#Its unreal how long ago this was

[ratatatastic]

"hes so mobile out there, has such a good stick and smooth skater and obviously its nice to have a swede as your partner 😀" another dman has come tottling in with good things to say about forsy while standing in front of his stall

in other news water is wet

nashville predators @ florida panthers doubleheader game 2 postgame interview | 9.22.24 (x)

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 5

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 2.6k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is not an idiot anymore. not descriptive sex but there’s sex. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​@ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear r , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy , @gyuguys , @brownbunnyb

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The opulent Grand Palais glittered under the Parisian night sky, its glass dome reflecting the stars above and the flashing cameras below. Paris Fashion Week was in full swing, and tonight's show was the most anticipated of the season. Mingyu adjusted his designer suit for the umpteenth time, still somewhat uncomfortable in the world of high fashion. But as the face of several luxury brands and with HHT's growing influence in the industry, his presence here was inevitable.

As he made his way down the red carpet, Mingyu couldn't help but feel a sense of unreality. Five years ago, he never would have imagined himself here, rubbing shoulders with the elite of the fashion world. The flashing lights and calls from photographers were familiar, but the context was all wrong. He was used to stages and concert venues, not runways and fashion shows.

"Mingyu! Over here!" "Kim Mingyu, who are you wearing tonight?" "Mingyu, is it true HHT is collaborating with Chanel for your next comeback?"

He answered the questions with practiced ease, his idol smile firmly in place. But inside, his stomach churned with anticipation. He knew she would be here tonight. Y/N. The woman he'd never quite gotten over, despite years of distance and silence.

As he entered the grand hall, Mingyu's eyes scanned the crowd. A mix of celebrities, designers, and industry insiders milled about, their chatter creating a low hum that filled the space. He nodded at a few familiar faces, exchanged pleasantries with a designer he'd worked with recently. But his attention was divided, always searching.

And then, he saw her.

Y/N stood across the room, and the sight of her knocked the breath from Mingyu's lungs. She was radiant in a sleek, black gown that shimmered with every movement, its high slit offering tantalizing glimpses of her leg. Her hair, longer than he remembered, was swept up in an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck. She was engaged in conversation with a group of admirers, her laugh carrying across the space. The sound made Mingyu's heart skip a beat, just as it had all those years ago.

For a moment, Mingyu forgot how to breathe. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, more poised, more confident. This wasn't the Y/N he'd known as HHT's manager. This was Y/N the successful entrepreneur, the fashion icon, the woman who had taken the beauty world by storm with her perfumes and skincare line.

As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up. Their eyes met across the crowded room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The chatter faded away, the flashing lights dimmed. There was only Y/N, her eyes wide with recognition, a small gasp escaping her perfectly painted lips.

Mingyu watched, his heart pounding, as Y/N excused herself from her group and made her way towards him. Each step she took seemed to last an eternity. He felt rooted to the spot, his pulse quickening with every click of her heels on the marble floor.

"Mingyu," she said, her voice soft but clear above the ambient chatter. "It's been a while."

Hearing her say his name again after so long sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Y/N," he breathed, drinking in the sight of her. "You look... amazing."

A slight blush colored her cheeks, and Mingyu was struck by how familiar that look was. For a moment, he saw a flash of the Y/N he used to know, the one who would get flustered when he complimented her backstage after a show.

"Thank you," she said, her composure quickly returning. "You're not looking too bad yourself. I see the fashion world has embraced you."

Mingyu chuckled, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "More like they've tolerated me. I still feel a bit out of place at these things."

"Could have fooled me," Y/N replied with a small smile. "You look like you belong here."

They fell into an awkward silence, years of unspoken words hanging between them. Mingyu's mind raced, trying to find the right thing to say. Should he mention her perfume? Ask about her business? Apologize for the years of distance?

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Congratulations on 'Solène.' It's... quite a name."

Y/N's eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. Was it sadness? Regret? Or was he just projecting his own feelings onto her? "Thank you," she said after a moment. "I heard 'Shadow' is topping charts worldwide. Seems we're both doing well for ourselves."

The tension was palpable. Mingyu was about to speak, to say something, anything to break through the wall of politeness between them, when a waiter approached with a tray of champagne. They both reached for a glass, their fingers brushing momentarily. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through them both, and Mingyu saw Y/N's eyes widen slightly at the contact.

"To success," Y/N said, raising her glass, her voice slightly breathless.

"To old friends," Mingyu countered, clinking his glass against hers. He held her gaze as they drank, searching for any sign that she felt the same turmoil he did.

As the night wore on, Mingyu found himself gravitating towards Y/N again and again. They made small talk with other guests, posed for photos, applauded the runway shows. But always, his eyes would seek her out in the crowd, and more often than not, he'd find her looking back.

One drink led to another, and soon they found themselves slipping away from the main event, seeking a quieter spot to catch up. They ended up in a secluded balcony overlooking the Parisian skyline, the Eiffel Tower glittering in the distance.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Y/N said, leaning against the railing. The soft breeze played with a few loose strands of her hair, and Mingyu had to resist the urge to tuck them behind her ear.

"Yeah," he agreed, though his eyes were fixed on her profile rather than the view. "Beautiful."

Y/N turned to him, a knowing smile on her lips. "You're not even looking at the skyline, are you?"

Caught, Mingyu felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Can you blame me? The view right here is much more captivating."

Y/N laughed, the sound sending warmth spreading through Mingyu's chest. "Still the smooth talker, I see. Some things never change."

"Some things do," Mingyu said softly. "You've changed. You seem... happier. More confident."

Y/N's smile softened. "I am. This life, this career... it's everything I ever wanted." She paused, her eyes searching his face. "What about you, Mingyu? Are you happy?"

The question caught him off guard. Was he happy? He had fame, fortune, adoring fans. HHT was more successful than ever. But standing here with Y/N, he realized there had always been something missing.

"I thought I was," he admitted. "But seeing you again... I'm not so sure anymore."

The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken emotions. Y/N took a step closer, close enough that Mingyu could smell her perfume – "Barely Yours," he realized with a start.

"Mingyu," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why did we let so much time pass? Why did we stop talking?"

Mingyu's heart raced. This was it, the moment he'd both longed for and dreaded. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I guess we both got caught up in our own worlds. It was easier to focus on work than to face... whatever this is between us."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I've missed this," she said softly. "I've missed you."

Those words broke something in Mingyu. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, cupping Y/N's face in his hands. "I've missed you too," he whispered. "So much."

Their lips met in a kiss that was five years in the making. It was soft at first, tentative, both of them unsure. But then Y/N's arms wound around Mingyu's neck, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepened. Years of pent-up emotion and desire poured out, leaving them both breathless and wanting more.

When they finally broke apart, Mingyu rested his forehead against Y/N's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment. "What are we doing?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/N's fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I don't want to stop."

Mingyu pulled back slightly, searching her eyes. "Y/N, I-"

But she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Not here," she said. "My hotel is just around the corner. We can... talk there."

The implication in her words was clear. Mingyu swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Are you sure?"

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady despite the flush on her cheeks. "I've never been more sure of anything."

The walk to Y/N's hotel was a blur. Mingyu was hyper-aware of her hand in his, of the way her dress shimmered under the streetlights, of the anticipation building with each step. They barely made it into the elevator before he was kissing her again, pressing her against the mirrored wall as her hands fumbled with his tie.

As the hotel room door closed behind them, Mingyu felt his heart racing. He couldn't believe he was here, with Y/N, after all this time. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across her features, making her look almost ethereal.

"Y/N," he breathed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure about this?"

In response, Y/N stepped closer, eliminating the space between them. She placed a hand on his chest, and Mingyu was sure she could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she whispered, echoing her words from earlier.

Their lips met in a kiss that was both familiar and thrillingly new. Mingyu's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, pulling her closer. The scent of her perfume enveloped him, igniting memories of stolen moments from years past.

As they made their way towards the bed, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of surreality. Here he was, with the woman he'd never quite gotten over, the one who had haunted his dreams and inspired countless songs. His fingers trembled slightly as he unzipped her dress, revealing smooth skin that he'd thought he'd never touch again.

"You're shaking," Y/N murmured, her eyes searching his.

Mingyu let out a shaky laugh. "I just... I can't believe this is real. That you're here, that we're..."

Y/N silenced him with another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. "It's real," she assured him between kisses. "We're real."

As clothing fell away and they tumbled onto the bed, Mingyu took a moment to simply look at Y/N. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, her body a canvas of soft curves and elegant lines. He traced a finger along her collarbone, marveling at the way she shivered at his touch.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed you so much."

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I've missed you too, Mingyu. More than you know."

What followed was a rediscovery of each other, a dance of passion and tenderness. Mingyu kissed every inch of skin he could reach, relearning the map of Y/N's body. Her sighs and soft moans were music to his ears, more beautiful than any song he'd ever written.

As they moved together, Mingyu felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions. This was more than just physical attraction; it was a reconnection of souls that had been apart for far too long. He poured years of longing, of regret, of unspoken love into every touch, every kiss.

"Y/N," he gasped as they neared their peak. "I lo-"

But she pressed a finger to his lips, shaking her head slightly. "Not now," she whispered. "Just feel."

And so he did, losing himself in the moment, in the warmth of Y/N's embrace, in the perfection of their bodies moving as one.

Afterwards, as they lay tangled in the sheets, Mingyu traced lazy patterns on Y/N's bare shoulder. The reality of what had just happened was starting to sink in, bringing with it a mix of elation and uncertainty.

"What happens now?" he asked softly, voicing the question that hung heavily in the air.

Y/N was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "But can we... can we just have this moment? Before the real world comes crashing back in?"

Mingyu nodded, pulling her closer. As Y/N's breathing evened out and she drifted off to sleep, Mingyu remained awake, his mind racing. He knew that morning would bring complications, questions, and possibly regrets. But for now, he allowed himself to simply be, holding the woman he loved in his arms, savoring a moment he'd thought would never come again.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the hotel room windows, rousing Mingyu from a deep sleep. For a moment, he was disoriented, but then the events of the previous night came rushing back. He turned to find Y/N still asleep beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow, her face peaceful in repose.

As he watched her sleep, a mix of emotions washed over him. Joy at their reunion, confusion about what this meant for their future, and a lingering fear that this might be nothing more than a one-night trip down memory lane. But underlying it all was a sense of rightness, as if a missing piece of himself had finally clicked back into place.

Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw Mingyu, a soft smile spread across her face. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," he replied, his heart swelling with affection.

They lay there in silence for a moment, the weight of their actions settling over them. There was no going back now. The question was, where did they go from here?

As the bustling sounds of Paris waking up filtered through the window, Mingyu knew they had a lot to talk about. The shadows of their past and the echoes of their promises hung in the air, waiting to be addressed. But looking at Y/N, seeing the warmth in her eyes and the soft curve of her smile, Mingyu felt a surge of hope.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever complications their night together might bring, Mingyu knew one thing for certain: he wasn't letting Y/N slip away again. They had been given a second chance, and this time, he was determined to get it right.

"Y/N," he said softly, reaching out to caress her cheek. "I think... I think we need to talk."

Y/N nodded, her expression turning serious. "I know. But first..." She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you for last night. For everything."

Mingyu loses his smile when Y/N seems to get ready to leave.

[siribaes]

WHO’S BETTER THAN ME?

RIO x blackfem!reader (oc - Angel)

“After their breakup a decade ago, Rio reunites with high school sweetheart making up for lost time—”

PARING: Exes to Lovers / Past High School Sweethearts

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Tu Principe by Daddy Yankee, What You Want by Ma$e & Total, Throwback by Usher & Jadakiss, Thugman by Tweet & Missy Elliott, Only U by Ashanti

CONTENTS: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, or*l (fem receiving), f*ngering, praise k*nk, slight possessive k*nk, Rio being a bedroom bully lol, some light use of Spanish, makeup s*x, cursing, etc. (UNEDITED/ NOT PROOF READ) / GIF CREDIT: @blackisblackisblack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was supposed to be a drabble but turned into a full-blown fic, but anyway LOL. so i did a lil AU for rio, essentially he pulled a griselda blanco moved operations to Long Beach (Rio is so west coast coded to me) but yeah, the backstory of these two is that they were childhood friends turned high school sweethearts (class of 2005 in my AU lore of these two, hints at the music choices, etc.) before they went separate ways yada yada, the oc’s face claim is danielle brooks 💖 as always enjoy y'all

Makeup sex shouldn’t be this good. Like this was too good, like ultimate dream-fantasy level type of makeup sex. It felt unreal, except this was very real. Very, very, real.

Angel never imagined that her night would've ended up like this, in the arms of her high school sweet-heart, or rather sitting on top of a very expensive, entry way console, as her high school-sweetheart-turned-ex, used his nimble hands to fondle at her luscious curves, and pillowy-soft lips to suck on the sensitive part of her neck. From how hard Rio sucked and kissed on her neck it was surely going to leave a hickey, which might've been on purpose on Rio's part.

Since they were young, Rio always had a slight possessiveness towards Angel, nothing that was too domineering or chauvinistic, but still a possessiveness that was rooted in a love and a true appreciation of her. This of course was expressed in a way that only a sixteen-year-old Rio could, buying Angel's favorite snacks for school, littering her neck with hickeys during make-out sessions, and even saving what little he had to buy a gold necklace with an angel shaped pendant. It was the subtle ways Rio showed how he felt. That in addition to the verbal ways, in true young-Rio, braggadocious fashion. Even then Angel knew, deep, deep, down, that there would be no one who could measure up, or as Rio so accurately foretold the night of their break-up, "Who else is like me, hm? Who's better than me?"

Angel of course buried that fact deep into her subconscious, well, not deep enough, because in each of her relationships since, it managed to rear its ugly head every single time. Most recently, with her ex-fiancé, Nathan. Nathan was great at first, good conversation, amazing dates, lavish gifts, he treated her like princess. But slowly, over time, Nathan stopped trying, it especially became bad after their engagement. They rarely talked, unless it was about work, or wedding plans, he neglected her, especially in the bedroom. Angel soon realized that despite Nathan's neglectfulness, she made no effort to confront him about it. She didn't care, not a single bit. In the end, Angel had to accept that her heart belonged to someone else. That Rio was the only man for her.

Which brings her too tonight, Angel's high school class's reunion. It was a big one, celebrating 20 years, and Angel thought it would be the perfect remedy to cheer her up. She could let loose, reunite with some old classmates, and celebrate with her friends she's had since then. Something that could put her mind at ease, pull her focus away from the abysmal ending to her engagement.

She was having a good time, truly, cutting up on the dance floor to a killer set of music from 04' and 05', with her besties, Clarissa, Benny, Keke, and Dre. Angel was having the time of her life, dancing to Lose My Breath by Destiny's Child, when her friends froze, their eyes all staring at the bar of the ballroom. Clarissa leaned and whispered.

"Rio's, here."

Angel's mind and heart went to full overdrive, as memories of their relationship flooded her mind. Apparently, while Angel and her friends were having the time of their lives, Rio showed up and instantly became the talk of the town. He had a few breezy conversations with old classmates, charming them of course, and when asked about what does for a living, he smoothly responded that he was an entrepreneur, that he's always been good with numbers. Which wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. Of course, none of their classmates were aware of Rio's true dealings, only Angel and her close circle were privy to that info.

Despite the nerves that bubbled in her stomach, Angel, knew that she had to face Rio at some point. She marched over and sat at the bar next to him. After some awkward pretense, more on Angel's part than Rio's, and shot of whiskey later, they talked. The conversation flowed and soon before they knew, it was like old times. They caught up and laughed about old memories. More and more Angel felt her heart swell in her chest, her latent feelings for Rio were bubbling to surface. But Rio surprised her, after sharing a couple dances to slow jams, a proposition slipped freely from his lips.

"Come home with me?"

From a safe distance, her friends watched the exchange, seeing the chemistry they still had after all this time, and despite some reservations, they encouraged to follow her heart, or as Keke put it, her pussy. When they were parting ways, Clarissa hugged her tight and encouraged her, whispering in her ear, "Just go with him, girl. Have some fun, we both now you deserve it after the shit you've been through."

So, here she was, whimpering and writhing underneath Rio's touch, while simultaneously admiring the backyard view. An ink-colored sky served as a gorgeous back drop, for the glowy lit infinity pool, in the distance was twinkling lights from buildings near the coastal beach. It was truly a sight to see. Angel snapped back to reality when she felt a firm hand, cradle her chin.

"Where'd you go?" Rio asked. His Coca-Cola colored eyes stared back at her. His head tipped to side, long eye lashes fluttering against the tops of cheeks as he blinked.

His gaze was heavy was lust, completely unrelenting. Its intensity caused Angel to squirm in her seated position. A warmth bloomed underneath her skin as she rubbed at the part of her neck Rio just was. It was still wet from his kisses.

"N-nowhere, baby," Angel stammered.

Slowly, Rio lips curled into a half smile.

"Good," Rio nodded his head as his gaze traveled down to Angel's chest, zeroing in on the exposed skin the peeked through her top, "now take this shit off. I wanna see them titties, Nena."

Completely under his spell, Angel quickly took of her top, leaving her in a lacy, cerulean colored bra, her mini skirt, and a pair of thoroughly soaked panties. Immediately Rio, hand's palmed at Angel's breasts, rubbing and squeezing them. A soft moan escaped her lips, as Rio's lips latched onto one of nipples.

"Yes, baby," Angel sighed, her hands cradled Rio's head close to her. His tongue alternated between soft flicks and harsh sucks at her left nipple. He released her nipple with a pop and went to the right nipple, repeating the same thing, "Fuck, baby, just like that. Shit!"

Angel could feel the wetness pool inside of her panties, as her clit began to throb. She needed Rio, real bad.

"Damn," Rio breathed out. He pulled away from Angel's chest, while his large hands rubbed at her ample thighs. His lips curled into a wicked smile as he admired his handywork. Angel's boobs glistened with sweat, as her hardened nipples stood at full attention, with spit dripping from them, "I missed them titties, girl. Fuck, I need to that pussy too. Lift up for me."

Angel obliged. Rio supported her with one hand, while with the other, slipping off her mini skirt and panties. He tossed the skirt to the floor, while he pocketed her panties. A storm swirled in his eyes, a thick haze of lust, as he admired Angel's, wet, glistening, pussy.

"I dunno if I can wait, mama," Rio rasped. He brought a finger to Angel's core, swiping at her wetness, and brought it back to his lips, sucking on it, "You taste good, mama. All this shit for me?"

Angel nodded. "Yes, it's all for you baby,"

Wordlessly, Rio plunged his fingers inside of Angel, who let out a yelp in response. He quickly fell back into old habits, fucking Angel with his fingers, just the way she liked it.

"Yeaaahhh, just like that," Rio rasped, he bent down and licked at her lips, "Be a good girl and fuck my fingers back," Angel whined loudly, following his instructions, lifting her hips slight and fucked his thick, fingers.

"Fuck! I'm close baby!"

"I gotchu, mama. Fuck, I feel you on my fingers. You gonna let me take care of you, huh? I'll give you anything you want mama, fuck, you being so good for me. Cum for me, darlin',"

And she did. Angel's eyes squeezed shut as she gushed over his fingers. A string of curses and pleases slipped from Angel's lips as Rio continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She could feel the cum slipping down her thighs.

"Mi alma, you look so good cummin' for me," Rio praised her. He captured her lips and kissed her sweetly. His tongue swirled around in her mouth as mimicking the move with his fingers. Angel pulled away from him, mewling.

"Riooooo, fuck, slow down baby,"

Rio landed a firm smack on Angel's ass. He cradled Angel's chin bringing her eyes towards him. His eyes hardened a bit, still holding its lustful haze, now a bit possessiveness broke through. Rio crooked his fingers, slowing down his pace just a tad, but driving into Angel's pussy much harsher and deeper.

"Fuck, I say about that shit," He growled.

"Shit! Baby, I-I'm s-sorry," Angel whimpered. Her mind flickered back to them making out in the car, he only to wanted to her his name, his real one, "Christopher, 's too much,"

A look of pure satisfaction bloomed across Rio's face. Got her.

"Just one more, mama. Be a good girl for me," Rio sunk down to knees, he slowly placed small kisses at Angel's inner thighs. He worshiped the plushness of her thighs, while Angel writhed and whined. He inched closer, spreading Angel's thighs further apart. He admired how she dripped around his fingers. "Fuck, mama I want you to cum on my tongue, 'k?"

Rio kept his eyes on Angel as he licked at her entrance, swirling his tongue around his fingers, continuing on until he reached her clit. Rio pressed a soft kiss to Angel's clit.

"Christopher!" Angel shouted.

Rio worked in tandem, his long fingers plunged in and out of Angel's, while his tongue swirled around her clit, flicking at the sensitive bud. Angel's hands rubbed at the soft hair of Rio's buzzcut, while the familiar thrumming of her orgasm quickly approached.

"Christopher, fuck, I'm soooo close,"

Rio pulled back, "Say it again,"

"Christopher,”

“Again,”

“Christopher, Christopher, Christopherrrrr, keep fuckin’ me, I’m so close,”

Rio grinned as he returned to her pussy. He latched onto her clit, sucking so harshly, Angel for sure believe that it was going to be bruised. His fingers fucked her even faster, as she clenched around them, as Rio French-kissed her pussy. He was completely relentless, wanting to see her cum, again, again, and again. With one last, harsh suck at her clit, Angel, exploded. She screamed in pleasure as she rode out her orgasm. Rio rose up, slowly pumping his fingers, before pulling out.

"Did so good for me," He mumbled against her cheek, holding her close as Angel rode out the aftershocks.

“I love you so much, baby,” Angel whispered in his ear.

Rio captured her lips again, kissing Angel. He licked at her mouth, allowing Angel to taste herself. Rio arms snaked around Angel's torso, and with ease, managed to throw her over his shoulder. Angel giggled and kicked her feet and Rio moved to the stairs.

"Baby! What are you doing?"

"It's time for the real show to start, Nena," Rio teased, he playfully smacked her ass, "You ready for me?"

"Always."

[bengals-barnesbabe]

FYS (Babe's Version)

Pair: FB! Joe Burrow x Black!Nurse Reader

Descr: Just the reader's view of the events in 'Fuck Your Status,' no major changes to the plot. But more insight on how she feels about their "relationship.” Also it doesn’t matter which one you read first :)

TW: MDNI 18+ | smut, protected sex, p-in-v, jealous and possessive traits, bratty behavior, drinking, self centered!Joe.

OG Version | Main Masterlist | SCS

WC: 1615

‿̩̥̩ ‿̩̩̥͙̽ ‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

You got Higgins’ text when you were sitting on the couch binge watching ‘Living Single’ with a glass bottle of wine. It was a simple, ‘come celebrate wit us’ text, but it meant so much more. It meant along with seeing one of your closest friends, Joe Burrow would be there. 

Ugh, just the thought of him made your core clench.

That name brought intense, lustful downright nasty flashbacks to your mind. It’s been a while since you hooked up, but all the memories are still there, engrained in your brain as some of the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. 

Walking into your closet, you knew there was only one choice for tonight. Joe’s already seen most of your party dresses, so the new lacy black skintight dress that you got at the mall last week was the winner. It fit like it was painted onto your body, and the low v-neck did wonders for your rack. You paired it with black red bottom pumps and a glossy red lip. Then rubbed some shimmery body butter into your skin. Spritzing yourself with a sweet musky Arabian perfume, you were smug looking at yourself in the floor-length mirror.

Your hair was already done, so you just took it down from the bun you had it in a few hours ago for work. Today was one of the rare days that your supervisor sent you home because of a scheduling error and you were not complaining. 

Since the dress you were wearing didn’t require a bra, you just switched out your boy shorts for a pair of lace panties that matched your dress. Not that they’d last very long.

Drinks plus you and Joe meant they wouldn’t stand a chance, they’d either get too wet or he’d tear them off. You didn’t mind either, he’d be paying for new ones if he wanted to keep this little arrangement up.

Since black was already the night’s theme, you picked out a cute little clutch to go with the fit- not forgetting to slip some protection in there as well. It’s that kind of night, there’s no shame whatsoever. It’s time to have some fun.

You beeline straight for the bar once you get past the bouncer. Being friends with the starters has its perks. 

Apparently, because they won a big game all the drinks were based on the Bengals. Which made sense, if you were into that type of thing, which you aren’t.

You asked the bartender for something fruity but strong, with a non-medicinal cherry flavor. You didn't need much after the half empty bottle of red wine you left at home. Your drink was delivered at the exact moment you locked eyes with him. It was like he was your prey, when by the end of the hour it’d definitely be the other way around. 

A flirty smirk pulled at your features and you held the drink up. He copied your gesture and knocked back the entire glass.

You took this time to admire his casual fit, like most guys here he keeps it simple. Dark jeans, plain white tee, a jacket and probably a nice pair of sneakers- maybe even Jordans. But the thing about Joe is it doesn’t matter what he walks in with, his aura is unreal. He always has a pair of glasses on, and his face card never declines- unless he’s mid throw.

Don’t get started about his legs, you could shiver just thinking about his meaty thighs and how good they feel rubbing against your pussy. He’s fucking different alright. If he took off the damn jacket you’d just drool at his arms all day and his fingers- its getting really hot in here. 

You left the bar and found an empty restroom that luckily only had one stall. Leaning your arms on the sink you chuckle at the mess you started, but have no desire to finish. 

Has it really been that damn long since he was inside you? Yes.

Are you about to lure him into this nasty ass bathroom? Hell yea.

You slide the lingerie down your legs and let out a sigh as the cool air blew over your wet folds. The crotch of the panties is soaked all the way through, you should feel ashamed for letting him affect you this strongly, but you don’t. 

Your close friends that aren’t Bengals, think you’re just using his fame to get free shit out of him. Sometimes you let them think that, because the truth is much worse.

You went from not needing a man for anything to needing him in order to relax. You were always the type of person that took their work home with them and after your last breakup, that work consumed you. Somehow hooking up with him allowed you to reach deep and lose yourself in the immense pleasure he was giving you. He could make you forget about all the horrors of nursing, being the first-born daughter, and all of the other anxieties you faced. It truly was some magical dick.

You swapped the panties for your phone and dropped the lace in your bag on the floor. Then shot him a quick text. 

To: JB🤤

Miss me

Like always, the short thread consisted of him being a dick and you teasing the shit outta him, actively trying to piss him off. By the end you give him your location and prepare to relinquish all control to him.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long, as soon as you heard that strong knock you pulled him in. You were very pleased to see he did in fact abandon the jacket, the veins on his arms presenting themselves beautifully on his ivory skin. Looking up you smirk at his inability to bring his usually cocky self back at the moment.

“I did not invite you here so you could just stare at me. That’s what Instagram’s for. I already know how fine I look, Higgins beat you to it.” 

The quarterback’s eyes finally meet yours and you feel flutters in your stomach as he stalks up to you. You bite your lip as he traps you between his body and the porcelain sink. His big hands clutch your waist and his mouth leans down to the shell of your ear. “If I hear his name come out of your mouth one more time, I’ll make you choke on it.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at his husky voice, knees threaten to lock up and give way to gravity if he didn't already have you in his grasp. Your hands clench on the sink as you begin to regret taking off your underwear so soon. All you can feel is the heat radiating from his body and the slick threatening to drip down your thighs.

A dark chuckle snaps your eyes open. “Not so talkative now are you? Now who’d you wear this dress for?” 

You take deep breaths to calm yourself. “No one- myself.” It doesn’t work.

He took a step back and tsked. “Yea I don’t think so.” Suddenly he’s manhandling you around to face the mirror. You stare at his reflection and his hands fondle your hips then drag your ass against his hard bulge. 

Not helping my own arousal at all. 

“Joey!” 

If only he’d just move his hands down.

He smirks at your complacent figure and palms your ass. Well it’s a start.

“Just tell me the truth, did you wear this-

His smirk turns into a clenched jaw as his eyes darken. You look up at him through your lashes in the mirror.

You let out a silent laugh as the dress is pushed up, now his breathing is getting harder. “Where are your damn panties?” He grumbles.

You lean over the side of the sink and retrieve the lace from your purse and wave them in his face. “You mean these? I got tired of them.” He caught them as you threw them at him and hesitated for a second before pocketing them.

“You’re just asking to be punished aren’t you?”

Yes, precisely.

“You must really want someone to find us here.”

Fuck public exhibition sounds hot as fuck.

“Wanna get caught fucking Cincinnati’s best quarterback?”

You scoff rolling your eyes and lift up your arms. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your damn status.”

Got me fucked up.

“Then why are you here?” He chuckles, shoving me back down. Rude. At least he’s starting to get rid of those jeans.

“So I could get fucked in the bathroom of a club by Cincinnati’s nerdiest white boy.” You say locking eyes with his reflection. “That’s your real status.”

The boy I see after getting fucking tens ways to Sunday. 

“Well you’re right about one thing.” He groans.

While your body covers most of his groin, you can tell he’s stroking himself by the way his veins flex and turn. You grab a condom from your bag and hold it out to him. Biting your lip to suppress the moan in your chest as he rips it open with his teeth.

“I’m always right.” You tease wiggling your ass as against his length.

He rolls his eyes and lays a smack against your cheek. “Ow!” You gasp in surprise. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He warns rubbing the tender muscle then kicks your legs apart. 

“Make me.” Mischief shines in your glare while repeating the motions with your hips, shaking the fat on him some more.

He humors you for a bit before halting your movements with a strong hand. “Gladly.” 

“Ahh.” You moan when his finger spreads your slick over your clit and cunt. Looking up at him, you feel him replace it with something much thicker. “Wait.”

His grip on your hips deepens as his cock impales you. “Fuck.”

So fucking worth it.

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

A/n: so which one did you prefer??

OG version or Babe’s Version

Edit: there were so many grammar errors in that, whoops.

[sundaycentric]

JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!

(I too am down horrendous for them)

(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader

content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff

note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!

NEUVILLETTE ★

He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.

Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.

Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.

Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.

It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.

It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.

For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.

Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.

He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.

He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something

Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..

He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.

Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.

Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)

JING YUAN ★

He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.

Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.

He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.

Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.

Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.

He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.

Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.

Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.

Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.

Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.

He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.

He is like a teddy bear. :)

He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.

Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.

Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.

[wreckedandpolemic]

thinkin’ lots about your mouth - matty healy

(mdni) in which your boyfriend (yes, boyfriend) has an oral fixation, and you give him exactly what he wants. part of the regret me universe and summer75 2024. 1446 words.

warnings: mild temperature play, handjob, gagging, praise, degradation

Matty, you’ve noticed, has something of an oral fixation. If his mouth isn’t moving a mile a minute, there’s something between his lips, whether it’s a cigarette, his lower lip or a necklace. Or, today, an ice lolly. He’s lounging by the pool, licking and sucking pornographically on it, lips stained red as a bead of juice trickles from his lip.

You’re sweating from something entirely besides the weather, watching him push the lolly as far down his throat as it’ll go and locking eyes with you. He pulls it out of his mouth and lifts it in a toast, grinning proudly and licking the juice off his lips. Heat prickles in your belly and you wander up to him, perching at the edge of his sun lounger and lifting your sunglasses to stare into his eyes. “Little show-off,” you tease, but it comes out soft, fond, a little fragile as you map the edges of your new dynamic with him.

After your little outburst the last night of tour, Matty had confronted you and begged for the two of you to make a real go of it; try an actual relationship after years of denying you felt anything for each other. Obviously, because neither of you are capable of being fucking normal about the other, letting a relationship develop naturally, you immediately moved in with him. It still holds an element of unreality, feels like a vacation, like one wrong move could shatter the tenderness blossoming between you. He finishes the lolly, smacks his lips obnoxiously and grins over at you.

“Always need that pretty mouth filled up, huh?” you smirk, nudging Matty forward so you can sit behind him, resting your head on his shoulder and pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. A gentle smile crosses his face as he tips his head back to bare his neck, curls brushing your bare shoulders. “You gonna be a good boy for me, baby?” you ask, trailing one hand down his stomach and feeling his muscles tense under your touch. He nods, grinning dopily like he can’t believe how gentle you’re being. “C’mon, darling, words,” you add, brushing over his cock through his shorts just to feel his hips jump.

“Yeah,” Matty gasps, a flush spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, m’a good boy. Your good boy, only f’you,” he promises, and your heart flutters a little. It’s hardly the first time he’s said those words, not even the first time he’s meant them, but it feels different now. Now that, after so long, he’s really, truly yours.

You press slow, lazy kisses along his neck, cupping his jaw with your free hand and turning it towards you. “All mine,” you grin, your words finally free of the bite that usually accompanies them, the bitter untruth finally dissolved into sweetness on your tongue. His lips are still cold when you kiss him, gloriously soothing in the summer heat with the sugary taste dripping into your mouth.

Leaning down, you reach into the cooler that sits on the floor next to you and pull out another ice lolly. Unwrapping it, you do the kind of disgustingly couple-y thing you never could have dreamed of even a month ago, licking slowly across its surface before lifting it to Matty’s lips. His tongue comes out eagerly, lapping at the treat as you palm his cock slowly. “Please,” he murmurs, low and reverent. “Feels good. Want more, want you to touch me,” he pleads, hissing when you press the ice against his neck.

“Such a sweet boy, askin’ so nicely. You gotta keep quiet, though, princess. We’re outside, anyone could hear those slutty little noises you make.” Matty shivers and you slowly trail the lolly down his chest, leaning down to lick the melted sugar off his neck. “Those are just for me now, right?”

Biting into the lolly, you let the ice melt on your tin for a moment as Matty whimpers, “Yeah. All f’you. M’yours.” You grin proudly, catching his lips and slowly pressing the ice into his mouth as you draw sticky, red circles across his chest.

Your cold lips meet his neck and you slide your hand under his waistband to free his cock, slowly stroking him and savouring the way he twitches helplessly. “So sweet,” you murmur. “S’okay, princess. Fuck my hand if you wanna.” His hips jolt, his cock drooling precum against your fingers as you kiss and bite at his neck.

“Thank you,” Matty gasps, instinctive and syrupy-sweet in your ear. You dig your nail into his slit in reward and he whines, a sweetly pathetic little sound that falls straight between your legs.

“Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet, remember?” you murmur. “S’okay, princess. Such a dumb little slut, can’t think about anything but how bad you want it, huh?” You kiss the corner of his mouth, just because you can, a little giddy with the feeling. “Let me help you, yeah?” You drop the ice lolly, letting it melt on the hot stone, and stroke across his flushed cheek.

Matty nods eagerly, and you slide two fingers into his mouth, drool pooling under his tongue, still cool from the ice. He moans softly around your fingers, sucking gently, almost absently, as you jerk him off. Hips stuttering, he gives a garbled whine that might be your name, the sound stoking fire between your legs.

Despite the gag, he seems determined to make as much noise as possible, whimpering pathetically as you stroke and squeeze just the way he likes. “God, just can’t help yourself, can you, darling? Sound so pretty, baby. You can take a little more, right?” Matty nods as best he can, and you press your fingers a little deeper. The obscene sound of his gag sends a pulse of heat washing over you, and you speed up your motions over his cock in reward.

“Such a good boy,” you croon softly; the sweetness of the words on your tongue is unfamiliar but far from unpleasant. Kissing his neck, you taste an intoxicating combination of sweat and sugar, licking eagerly over his damp skin. You can feel Matty getting closer, cock leaking precum stickily over your fingers as he fucks into your fist with abandon.

He’s moaning helplessly around your fingers, trembling at your touch and drooling messily under your fingers. “Aw, baby. You waitin’ for permission?” Matty nods frantically, something like Yeah, m’your good boy spilling from his lips, red and spit-slick. “God, so sweet. Trained you so well, haven’t I? My little slut.” You play with him a little longer, teasing his head and squeezing him gently. “So gorgeous. Go on, princess. Cum for me.”

At the last second, you slide your fingers free, wiping his spit against his chest an instant before his orgasm rips through him. A moan tears free from Matty’s throat, high and loud, cum splashing over your fingers as his body quivers with effort. Grabbing his jaw, you turn his head and kiss him as he comes, swallowing his moans as he comes over his stomach. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips, grinning dopily. “Felt s’good.”

“Made such a mess,” you croon, lifting your hand to his lips. Without even needing to be instructed, Matty takes your fingers in his mouth, cleaning them off with a greedy moan. “Dirty boy,” you giggle, getting to your feet and sliding back down into his lap. You grab his hand and slip it into your bikini, gasping as he finds your clit instinctively and brushes a slow circle. “See how wet you make me? I need you,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, his responding shudder endearingly pathetic.

“Lookin’ at me like you wanna eat me,” he groans, cock twitching between his legs as your smirk only grows.

Matty draws sloppy figure-eights on your clit, pleasure spiking in your core and dripping against his fingers. “Mhmm,” you moan. “Been such a good boy, Matty. Gonna let you fuck me, if you want.” He nods so hard you’d almost think his neck was going to snap. “So eager, princess. I don’t wanna do all the work again, though. Come fuck me into the mattress?”

It’s almost comical how fast Matty scrambles to his feet, tugging you inside by the hand and frantically pulling at your bikini. He slides home with a sweet little moan, and you tangle your hands in his hair and kiss him, hungry and content. You lose yourself in each other’s bodies, a tangle of limbs and hands and messy kisses. “That’s it, baby. Makin’ me feel so good. My good boy,” you moan against his lips.

“All yours, promise m’yours.”

[sabotage-on-mercury]

I've never been one for New Year's recaps, looking back at the year's achievements (which achievements asks the imposter syndrom) and highlights, mostly because it forces me to look back at the year's low points as well. I prefer to sort everything away, nice and tidy, in the back of my mind, put on a smile and pray through gritted teeth that next year will be better - not out of conviction, but because it simply has to be. 

A few days ago, I stumbled across some lines from a fic I wrote a few months ago, and it stirred something in me. At the time I wrote it, I didn't believe a single word of it.

“Well, stay curious. And brave. You're not stuck where you are forever. It might take you a month or another seventeen years, but you will find something that keeps your soul alive. And it will be worth every minute searching for it.”

Sure, I was clinging on to life with a grim conviction that one day it wouldn't be so painful just to be alive. But that life could actually be good? Hard to imagine. 

For many years I never dared to look back, but today I feel brave enough to do so. 

And I see one of the darkest periods of my life. I see all the tears and panic attacks and hopelessness and anger. I see the days when I was sure I wouldn't make it to today. I see the wounds and scars that this time has left on me that will probably take some time to heal completely, if ever.

But there is something else that I see even more clearly. Little moments that shine as bright and warm as stars in the night sky.

I see the conversations with the most amazing people over tags, DMs, texts, phone calls, video calls that have brightened my days - and then the absolute joy of meeting my friends in person, being invited into their lives, going on trips, spending a wonderful time together, and the prospect of so many more visits to come.

I see moments of being brave, silly and irresponsible - and being highly encouraged to do so - and how that has given me my spark back.

And yes, I also see Good Omens, the comfort it continues to provide in spite of everything. And, of course, the amazing fandom, with its wonderful creators and creations that bring so much beauty to the world. 

I see the hours I spend writing, the joy (and agony) of bringing a vision to life, and the pride of actually finishing something - and then having people take the time to read my stuff and actually like it (still feels unreal). I see myself getting excited about new ideas that may never see the light of day, but that I still love telling to people who are equally excited about them. 

I see the people who have come to me for support or encouragement, who have made me feel helpful, who have made me feel like a relevant part of their writing process and their lives, which still fills me with awe.

I see the journey of finding love, for people, for experiences, for things, and loving them deeply. 

I'm standing here and I can say with certainty: I feel loved. And I'm so grateful for the ways, big and small, that people show it to me again and again.

I see all these people holding my hand and waiting patiently with me until sun rose again and beyond. And I feel at peace. 

And I can look back and embrace it all. 

So is everything all right now? 

No. I still have bad days, I'm still bitter about the challenges behind me, and I see the challenges ahead, and I know I have a long way to go, to create a life I want.

But I'm here. 

I feel alive.

I'm so, so happy to be alive. 

I'm beaming with excitement for the beautiful moments to come, however few or small they may be.

And it's worth every minute, every year I've spent looking for something to make me feel that way. 

So to all of you: Thank you.

You matter, to me, to the world, to someone in your life. 

Happy New Year!

[babyflorencee]

Stockholm Syndrome

Part one: The shortcut

Links: MASTERLIST

Harry Styles x fem!Reader

I didn't plan to take the alleyway.

It's funny how you don't think about those small decisions—the ones that seem so inconsequential at the time, the ones that only later reveal their consequences, like ghosts you never saw until they begin to whisper in your ear.

But there I was, walking down a narrow alley, my pink dress fluttering behind me, as my gold heels click sharply against the wet pavement. The night had already unfolded into something softer, quieter. The city felt drunk on its own silence, like it was holding its breath for something it didn't want to acknowledge. I felt the silence press against me, as if the world was closing in, wrapping me up in a tight, suffocating, endless, embrace. Everything that felt familiar just hours ago now feels unreal, like a bad dream, the kind that stays with you even after you wake up.

It was 3:00 a.m., the kind of hour where everything feels both impossible and inevitable. 

I had been with my friends—loud and recklessly laughing like we didn't have a care in the world. And in that moment we didn't. Music blaring. Shots that burned a little too hot and a little too fast, but felt good none the less. A few good dances. But somewhere between the last tequila shot and my steps out the bar door, it stopped being fun. The laughter from my girls, the shrieks of excitement, now seemed so faint and hollow like the taste of the cheap wine that was sitting on my tongue. It had all seemed to blur into something unrecognizable. Like I had stepped off a cliff and found myself falling into a space that wasn't quite mine anymore.

I should've just taken the main road. 

I had told myself that. But my mind was clouded, the alcohol still tickling the back of my throat, making everything feel distant and unreal. I just wanted to go home. I missed the quietness of my apartment, the soft sheets of my bed, the soothing comfort of just being alone.

But the alleyway—it was a shortcut.

The air was heavy. Damp, even for a late-night breeze. It carried a smell of wet concrete mixed with something more metallic and old, almost like rust or iron. Or blood. It made my stomach churn a little, but I tried not to let it show. I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders, as if it would keep the night breeze from touching me.

My heels clicked with every step, in a sharp, staccato rhythm, like the sound of a clock ticking down the minutes. Each step echoing off the walls of buildings that loomed like silent witnesses, their windows staring down at me in judgment of my decisions. For a split second, I wondered if anyone else could hear it. If anyone else was listening.

But it was late. The streets were empty. And no one was around.

And I didn't look back. I didn't want to look back.

I had learned long ago that you don't look behind you when you're already walking forward. But that's when it starts, doesn't it? That prickling sensation, the one that creeps under your skin and tells you that you're not alone.

And I felt it.

Not like a passing thought, or like a fleeting worry that can be dismissed. No, this was something that weighed me down. Something that I was aware of, something just beyond the corner of my vision.

I slowed my pace, but only for a moment. There's something about the silence of the night that makes your senses sharper, makes you question everything around you. I glanced over my shoulder, just a quick look I thought, but yet, nothing.

Nothing but the stretch of empty asphalt and the walls of the alley.

I laughed to myself, it was a little shaky, a little hollow. But it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Nothing else.

"You're just being paranoid, y/n." The words came out dry, almost as if they were meant to convince myself that the street was indeed empty. "It's just the wine. That's all."

But the feeling didn't go away. It only deepened. 

And as I turned back, I could feel it again. That weird, heavy feeling. Something was wrong. I didn't know what, but I could feel someone's gaze on my skin, even if I couldn't see it. I knew it was there. I tried to ignore it.

But I couldn't. 

I couldn't ignore that uneasy feeling that was burning inside of me. My heart started to thud, slowly but heavily, like something was crawling under my skin. I took another step, then another. Then I began to walk faster. I wasn't in a hurry or anything, but something inside of me was screaming at me to get the hell out of there. The noise of my heels picking up, the sound growing louder and louder, as if I were trying to outrun the discomfort that was settling in my stomach. But no matter how fast I walked, no matter how hard I tried to push the feeling back, it followed me. 

And then—there it was again. A sound. Just one. A footstep. Light. Almost too soft to be real. But it was there, like someone was stepping on a twig, just behind me.

I froze.

I couldn't stop myself from looking behind me again.

There, just at the edge of my vision, a shape emerged—slight, but it was there. A man—I think— standing a few paces behind, walking with a slow, measured pace, almost like he was trying to give me space.

But space isn't comforting when you don't know who it is that's giving it to you.

The air between us felt thick, like something just waiting to be caught.

I quickened my steps again, trying to breathe past the tightness in my chest, trying to dismiss it. It was just someone on a late-night stroll. Or maybe it was a man wanting to go to the nearest pub to drown out his sorrows. Or maybe he was just heading in the same direction as me.

That's what I told myself. That's what I wanted to believe. 

But the footsteps behind me kept their rhythm, matching mine. Each step falling into sync with mine, like they were wired to keep pace.

It felt like I was being stalked by the darkness itself.

I reached the end of the alley, where the world opened up into the glow of streetlights. The security of the building was just ahead, the front door waiting for me.

Almost there. Just a few more steps. Just a little farther.

I could see the front door of my building from here, the lights beaming from the lobby just ahead. I was almost home. I was almost safe.

I reached for the door handle, the cold metal biting into my palm, and I shoved the door open with more force than I intended to. The building's lobby greeted me with its usual quiet— but safe, familiar feeling.

The security guard didn't even look up from his phone. Clearly unaware of my presence. Or maybe he was just ignoring it.

I'm fine now. I'm safe.

But I didn't feel fine. And I definitely didn't feel safe. And I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was still being watched. That something was still following me, even in here.

I made my way toward the elevator, running now, pressing the button so hard I thought the glass would crack. When the doors opened, I stepped inside, pressing myself into the corner, feeling the walls close in around me.

You're safe now. There's nothing to worry about.

But I couldn't make my body relax. It was like I was trapped in a place between sleep and waking, where things aren't quite real but they aren't exactly an illusion either.

The elevator hummed as it climbed, but the sound didn't soothe me. It just made the seconds stretch longer, feeling like minutes.

I tried to steady my breathing, but I felt like I couldn't. My chest was tight. My body was still too aware of that presence—his presence.

The doors slid open as I reached my floor, and I stepped out, walking quickly toward my apartment. I told myself it was over. I am home now. Safe. But if that's the case, then why do I feel so afraid?

I unlocked the door, stepping inside, and closing it behind me. Making sure that I locked both of the locks on my door. The normal, yet familiar quietness of my apartment surrounded me like a warm blanket. I dropped my purse on the counter, my shoes beside it, before walking towards my bedroom.

I should've felt relieved. But I didn't. I couldn't.

Just as I stepped into my room, something froze me in my place, a chill creeping over me as the blood drained from my face, leaving me pale as if I'd seen a ghost.

My balcony door.

It was wide open.

I don't remember leaving it open. In fact, I know I didn't. I always made sure to close it. I always made sure to double-check it before I left. Always. But tonight...I must've forgotten. I must've.

Or maybe it was the doing of the wind, just the draft that the air carried in.

But either way it was wide open now, the curtains billowing in the breeze.

But I didn't move. Not at first at least.

The night outside was still. The air thick, almost as if it had been holding its breath.

But as I stepped closer to the door, my body stiffened. The faintest sound came from the hallway behind me, the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

Getting closer, and closer, and closer.

My stomach dropped. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I just stood there, frozen, my body refusing to obey my mind.

I slowly turned around, my eyes scanning my surroundings. But nothing.

But as I turned back around, I heard it again. Closer this time.

My pulse quickened, my mouth going dry.

And that's when I heard it. A voice.

Low. Drawling. Barely above a whisper.

"I saw you earlier," it murmured. I didn't turn around, but I could feel the words. They slid down my spine like silk dipped in something more... dangerous. "With your friends. You looked stunning." he breathed out, his voice a slow, velvet drawl, heavy with something darker than desire itself.

I don't dare move.

I don't dare breathe.

As a chill spread through me, cold and deep, like something had reached into my chest and frozen the blood in my veins. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, like they could feel him before I could.

I couldn't make myself turn around. My body refused to obey me, even though I knew he was standing behind me. But then again, did I even want to?

"That dress," he went on, his voice curling around each word like it was secret for only my ears to hear, and maybe—probably— it was. "It makes you look like you're caught in the middle of a dream. A dream that's almost too perfect, too beautiful to be real."

He was standing close enough now that I could feel the heat of his body against my own, there was a darkness that clung to him, threading its way into the air between us.

 "It glitters on you like you're caught in the middle of some kind of spell. Makes you look like something ethereal, something more than just human. Like you're made of light, and y/n I'm drawn to it. Almost like a craving." he said, his words teasing, but with something darker beneath the surface.

I hadn't even told him my name. And the way he said it, almost in a possessive way. Like he owned that name. Or even that he owned me. 

The words curled around me like smoke, thick and suffocating, each one laced with an invitation that I didn't want to accept. His breath was warm against my neck, and the world shrank around me until all I could hear was the thud of my own heartbeat.

"I want you to be mine now, I need you to be mine," he whispered, his voice barely audible, almost like it was a promise and a warning, all in one breath.

The words fell heavy, but with a strange, unholy sweetness. They wrapped around me, tighter than anything I've ever felt. As if they were choking me with something that felt like hunger, something that pulls at me from the inside. I felt them sink into me, deeper than I ever wanted them to.  

And for the first time, I didn't know if I wanted to fight or give in.

Even after a moment, his breath still lingered on my neck, warm and thick, as if it were made to burn into me, to keep me from moving, from thinking, from fighting, from resisting.

My body was frozen, but my mind was scrambling, wild with thoughts I couldn't quite catch, like wisps of smoke that were slipping through my fingers. I couldn't tear my eyes from the door. The wide, open balcony door—just a few feet away from the outside. 

"I'm sorry, but I told you," he whispered, the words teasing now, as if we were no longer strangers. "I need you to be mine." His voice slithered around me, a soft, seductive pull. I couldn't help but wonder: was I already his? Was this what it meant to belong? To feel wanted? To be needed?

I couldn't breathe. The weight of the air pressed against my lungs, thick and unyielding, the walls of my apartment suddenly feeling so small, so claustrophobic.

And then I felt it—his hand, so cool against the back of my neck, his fingers brushing my hair away gently, almost tenderly, before he pressed something soft and cold against my face.

The scent hit me first—a sharp, chemical bitterness, like something that didn't belong in the world I knew. Something like medicine. Like poison.

 I tried to pull away, to scream, to fight, but the air around me went heavier, thicker. It wasn't just the rag anymore—it was the whole room, as if it were closing in on me, folding in on itself, suffocating me. The walls felt closer, the shadows darker, as if they were creeping toward me. My lungs burned. And I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to breathe. My chest felt too tight, too small for the panic that was filling it, and still, the world blurred at the edges, slipping out of focus. My heart thudded against my ribs, a frantic beat that didn't match the calmness laced in his voice.

I gasped, but it was a weak sound, a breath that barely made it past my throat. My limbs—why wouldn't they move? My body felt heavy, slow, like it was no longer mine to command. The rag pressed harder against my nose, the sickly bitter smell seeping into my lungs, coating my throat as a sharp scent coated my tongue. It tasted like metal, like something old and disgusting, and it clawed at my throat, begging to be released.

I tried to pull away once again, but my muscles betrayed me, refusing to answer the frantic commands my brain was sending. The rag was cold. But it wasn't just cold, it felt wrong, like something foreign invading my body, invading my thoughts. I couldn't think straight. The world was slipping—no, falling—away from me.

"You might not remember this, y/n," he murmured, almost soothingly, as his other hand gripped my shoulder, keeping me still, anchoring me put. "But you'll never forget me, I promise. And you're not going to want to."

What does that mean? What does he mean?

I don't know if I'm screaming anymore. I don't even know if I can. My head is spinning. My body is numb. My thoughts are a blur of fragmented images—of the alley, the streetlights, the man behind me, his touch, the rag, and... the door. My balcony door. It wasn't open when I came in. Was it? Was it?

The air feels colder, though. The chill from the night is creeping in around me, seeping through my clothes. But that's not what's cold. It's the feeling. The feeling that I'm no longer in control. The feeling that I'm slipping away from myself.

I struggled against him, against the weight of his arms, against the weight of the darkness pressing down on me, slowly trying to consume me. But my limbs felt numb. 

My mouth was dry. My head spun in lazy, uneven circles. My knees buckled, and I felt his arms catch me, steadying me with a strength that was too calm, too sure for someone who had no right to be near me. He held me close, and I could feel his body heat through my clothes—like fire, but not warmth. It was a dangerous kind of heat.

The air around me felt too suffocating, and I was drowning in it. The more I tried to fight, the more I felt my body betraying me. My vision was slipping—swirling, spinning—like the whole room had turned into liquid, everything blurring into a dream—no, a nightmare that I couldn't escape. No. Please, no. I wanted to scream, but the words stayed lodged in my throat, tangled with the darkness crawling over me.

The edges of the room blur, bend, distort. I know I should move, I should do something, but my body refuses to listen. My feet feel rooted to the floor, and the walls seem to press in around me, their sharp angles becoming soft curves, like the room itself is closing in, folding around me. The faintest sound, a creaking of the floorboards behind me, echoes in my skull, but everything is distant, muffled, like I'm underwater. His voice, still low and whispering in my ear, is the only thing that feels real.

"Just breathe, baby. Just breathe," he cooed, his voice wrapping around me like a soft, cruel lullaby that I didn't want to hear, its sweetness making my skin crawl. "You're safe now. You're mine now. And I won't let anything happen to you." The words were thick with something darker, something I couldn't quite name. He wanted me to breathe, wanted me to take in the poison that was slowly sinking into my lungs, and I could feel myself weakening with every ragged breath I tried to take.

I try to, but the air... it's wrong. Each breath feels like I'm drowning in it, filling my lungs with something dark, something toxic. I can taste it in the back of my throat. It coats my tongue, sticks to the roof of my mouth. My stomach churns, but I can't even make myself gag. My body won't respond.

I could hear him, but the words were now fading. The world was fading. Everything was stretching thin. The air tasted like it had turned to ash, and I couldn't tell if I was hearing him anymore or if it was just my mind echoing back his words to me. The room was now blurred, the edges of reality bleeding into one another like watercolor. 

"You're mine now," he whispered, his voice sinking deeper, darker, wrapping itself around me like a noose. "You're mine." It was a promise. It was a command. It was all I could hear.

I try to call out, try to say something—anything—but my voice is just a rasp, a faint whisper against the storm in my head. My body is betraying me. My limbs feel like they belong to someone else, someone I don't recognize. Who am I anymore?

I should fight. I know that. I should try to run, do anything to get away from him, but my body betrays me. I try to push him away, but my hands are sluggish, like I'm moving underwater. It's all happening too slowly. I can't make sense of it, of what's happening, of the way the world around me is sliding—no, melting—into something that feels like nothing at all. Like I'm falling, but there's nowhere to fall. Like I'm being swallowed by the night, by the silence, by this strange, suffocating fog that's stopping my thoughts.

And then there was nothing. The world stilled. The room went quiet.

But I didn't let myself drift. I couldn't. Not yet at least. Not until I knew what he'd do to me. What he wanted from me.

With the last bit of energy that I could muster up I fought against the heaviness in my limbs, against the pull of darkness closing in on me. But that was no use. Everything seemed to stop. As it had become too much—too much to hold on to. I was losing my grip. I knew I was.

It's too much. I can't breathe. I can't think. The world is fading, and I'm sinking into it, deeper and deeper, like I'm falling into a void.

And then, there's nothing.

Nothing but the dark. Nothing but his voice, his hands, his presence wrapping around me, smothering me, holding me down, until all I can feel is the weight of him,m the weight of surrendering.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice soothing, almost affectionate, but there's a something to it now, a finality. The words hang in the air almost like a trap. But I can't tell for sure.

I felt the unrelenting darkness take over, as the world slipped away entirely. A quiet, suffocating weight filled the space where reality had been, and I let go, not by choice, but because there was no other option. I didn't know where I ended and the darkness began.

I gave in.

"You're mine now," he whispers once again, and the words are an inevitability. A claim that is final, no matter what I do. It doesn't matter if I scream, if I fight, if I beg for help, for mercy. There is no escape.

 I give in. 

I have to.

[lbxbx]

Cockpit 12 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood, major toxic behavior, fluff.

taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie | @mantaecrolss | @busanbby-jjk | @bangtanxmegan | @nochelunaxx | @certified-lana-del-rey-lover

a/n: This is a subtle ending and tbh was a little hard for to actually mold up, there can't be a happy ending 100% and ya'll know that. i strongly believe that there are many drabbles that might come up that may show you different scenarios for this fic and possibly another end. Ily guys and i love cockpit that introduced me to so many of you guys <3 ps i hope i didn't disappoint with this update because i think i slightly did.

Previous | End.

It’s a cold cloudy day as the winter has already made its way finally, It was your favorite season throughout the entire year, and it’s usually the season you and your friends decide on doing outdoor activities, and of course it’s the holiday season where you actually how so many days off. You just got off your morning shift and picked up Hoseok from his office, his car is in maintenance and you need to get groceries for the week, so you offered to drive him and in return he’ll help you with groceries.

The windows are open in the car, he’s on his phone scrolling and you’re tapping on the steering wheel with your leg on the gas pedal, singing along whole heartedly to the song you started in your car.

I fantasize about it all the time, if you were mine.

I’d give this pussy to you, nine to five, five to nine.

Trying to behave but I’m feeling some type of way.

Even dancing to it, with one hand on the steering wheel now, Hoseok first seems unbothered, he’s used to you being like this, he’s too focused on his phone. But then it hits him and he stares at you suspiciously, and of course you’re too occupied on the song, but then he shuts off the stereo which leaves you singing awkwardly with your not so acceptable voice.

“Why would you do that?” You whine, you can’t look at him your eyes are on the road, but you feel his eyes on the side of you face. “What’s the matter?”

“With what?” You try to take a quick glance at him when he’s smirking. “How are things with Namjoon?”

“Oh, I kind of.. met his ex wife when I was staying there a while ago.”

“How did it go?”

You look her in the eye with your chest heaving dramatically.

This was something you were anticipating long time ago, you wanted her to know everything. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

Namjoon never felt this strong before, having you stand up for him even when he could stand up for himself the whole time. But still having you in front of her scratched an itch for him and he himself wanted this to happen too, he wanted her to see what he has in hand, and that even when she was after his money, he was after his freedom. She still didn’t get what she wanted but he did.

Everything is happening right in front of her own eyes, she clearly sees that her ex husband was actually cheating on her with someone.

Not anyone.

The doctor that she saw a couple of times one of them Namjoon was actually with her. She’s the woman that treated her own son long time ago, the woman who actually had the same perfume on that she smelled on her husband’s clothes so many times.

Gosh this was months ago, she feels betrayed more than she already is when she recalls that you pretended to help her with the fake medical report, you were actually defending him? This has to be serious between you and Namjoon then. Have you two been together for that long for you to actually help him?

She recalls the nights he stayed out, he must’ve been with you, the nights he went back home smelling like you, there were too many of them. It did make sense to her now.

And you finally get the chance to look her in the eye without having to hide and beat around the bush, the greediness inside you is increasing and you feel so desperate to show her that you stole her man.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your arms crossed to your chest while you eye her from head to toe, she glances at Namjoon and looks back at you before laughing. “Oh so it was you.”

You mirror her laugh and nod your head. “It has been me all along.”

She takes a step closer to you and actually takes a sniff, before looking at Namjoon. “No one, and I mean no one, can stand tolerating you like I did, Namjoon.”

Of course you weren’t going to believe anything she’s saying.

“And you’ll realize the mistake you’re making, perhaps not now, but you will eventually.” She takes another step towards you.

Even when you’re fuming and you genuinely hate the woman, you masked it so well as you chuckle and click your tongue, shaking your head left and right. “Is that what being broke and pathetic feels like? I feel so bad for you.”

“I will give him to you, I just hope you like leftovers.” The answer was on the tip of her tongue. “Who knows, you might end up like me.”

“Oh honey trust me, you and I are not alike.” You eye her again from head to toe, a visible cringe on your face when you look into her face. “You and I are totally different, and I think you know that very well.”

Her face changes and she clears her throat, she even looks back at Namjoon behind you, hoping that he’ll say something and tame you, or do anything to just silence you, but it’s the exact opposite. He wraps an arm around you and walks into the bedroom before turning his head towards her. “Take your trash and leave, and next time if you want anything send someone else. This house isn’t yours to barge in.” And he slams the bedroom door shut and locks it with the key

Your eyes meet for a second before you pull him in for a kiss, your lips pressed against his and your arms wrapped around him. You tried to convince yourself that nothing is different but it actually is.

He tastes sweeter in your mouth and it feels so fucking good to have him for yourself. For the first time ever when you’re in bed with him you feel like that and it feels good. Your friends were right, it was totally worth the suffer.

“That’s all.” You finally park your car near the grocery shop, Hoseok takes a long breath and exhales. “Y/N, this shouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t know what got into me, I just wanted her to know that he’s way better off without her.” You seriously have no idea where this toxic behavior is coming from, and what’s weirder is that you don’t regret thinking this way.

“Did he do anything?” Hoseok asks as you two get out of the car, he grabs a cart and starts pushing it inside, you’re a little distracted first when you see the advertisements for the products and the discounts around the place for the holiday season that’s coming up, the sound of background music mixed with kids running around, you’ve always enjoyed running errands and now you enjoy it more when you get to spend quality time with your best friend.

“Nope, it’s like he wanted this to happen too.” You grab the flyer. “Oh look, there’s a discount on short ribs.”

“You don’t eat short ribs.” He stops pushing the cart. “But you do, I’ll cook them for you.” You walk towards that aisle to put the short ribs into your cart.

“Someone is in a great mood today.” He chuckles and looks around the aisle for other kinds of meets. “Actually yeah, I’m supposed to meet his parents tonight for dinner.”

“Wow he must be pretty serious about you.” You hear a smirk on his face and when you look at him you find him in fact smirking. “Did you think he wasn’t?”

“No not at all.” He puts pork belly into the cart and continues pushing it. “I just didn’t see it happening so quickly.”

“Gosh, you have no idea how nervous I am about this.” Your hand sits onto your stomach. “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“Hey, you’re an incredible woman who usually leaves a great first impression—“ He doesn’t sound half convincing which makes you push him subtly. “Stop lying.”

“Okay, you don’t usually leave good first impressions, but hey does it matter?” He’s right.

Nothing’s going to change whether they like you or not, you and Namjoon want each other and that’s what matters. “Yeah, it doesn’t. But hey I still need to be careful.”

“Did you ask him about his folks?” He pushes the cart towards the produce aisle. “Yeah, multiple times, he said they were nice, but still they’re his parents, he can’t just tell me that they’re awful, right?”

“True.” You look around for grapes since it’s the season. “I wish I can cancel the whole thing, I’m not really good with strangers.”

“They’re not strangers they’re your in-laws.” He teases you which again makes you hit his shoulder. “Shut up.

“You know what, fuck it, just go, what’s the worst that could happen?” He says it so carelessly which makes you think you’re exaggerating, but you really weren’t.

You were standing in front of your full body mirror that holds so many memories for you now, zipping up your short burgundy dress. Honestly it was an entire debate for you whether you should choose this color or not, but the dress fitted you like a glove, respectful, yet revealing on some places and really flattering.

You grab your high heels and take a seat onto your bed to put them on. You needed the high heels because the man you’re going out with is tall and big, you need some height yourself.

You cannot deny your stomach was pinching you the entire time, you totally forgot that this moment had to come sometime you never even thought of it. Tonight was exceptionally cold but you were sweating. You weren’t anticipating this night what so ever.

Your door knocks a couple of times when you still had one of your heels on, so you get up on your feet and walk crookedly to your door to open it with the other pair of heels in your hand. “Hey big boy.” Your smile lingers on your face when you see him standing by your door wearing a casual suit, his long hair pushed back and smelling like a mix of his cologne and cigarettes, the smell you grew to love and find really warm.

“Look at you.” He takes a step inside your house and prints a soft kiss on your cheek. “You look incredible.”

“This is the dress I told you I was worried about.” You giggle and close the door. You were texting him the entire afternoon asking him what you should wear and he agreed with you on that burgundy dress.

He grabs your hand and twirls you once, his eyes scanning on your entire body and ass. “Baby you would look sexy in a potato sack.”

“Stop.” You hit his chest and let go of his hand. “Take a seat I’ll be ready in no time.” You point towards the living room with the hand that’s holding the shoe. He laughs and grabs the shoe away from you. “Let me help you with that.”

You both head to the living room and take a seat onto your couch, you put your leg up onto his lap and he helps you putting on your heels. “So..” You start talking, clearing your throat before you finish. “Any instructions? Should I be careful with anything?”

He rolls his eyes and looks at you. “Y/N, you don’t have to worry, they’re nice people I promise you’ll love them.”

“I’m not really good when it comes to meeting new people.” Your hand lands onto your stomach. “I wish I can back out.”

“Hey, they’re the ones who asked to see you in person, plus, I know they’ll like you too.” He shrugs, too occupied trying to figure out the straps on your heels. “You already met Jay and it wasn’t that bad, meeting my parents can’t be that bad too.”

He told his parents frankly that he was seeing someone, and they were really welcoming the idea generally, the entire story now makes sense to them and they can finally understand what their son went through and why he needs to be with you. Namjoon was absolutely glad that his parents were supporting his choices.

They’re flying over from Ilsan just to have dinner with you two, and you didn’t mind the idea generally and they must be really nice people, but you were simply not ready.

“Am I doing this right?” He asks, finally done with your heels, you nod your head and get up on your feet to tuck your dress down. “Thank you. What do you think?”

“Absolutely beautiful.” He flashes you a toothy smile, his dimple that makes your heart skip a beat digging onto his cheek. “Thank you, let’s get going.” You turn off the lights and make your way out with him to head towards the place he had reservations in.

The entire ride there your head was storming with every possible scenario, and no matter how hard Namjoon tried distracting you on your way there or comforting you, still, you just simply can’t relax.

You tried distracting yourself and actually googling topics the bring up during the dinner, but it wasn’t helping, your head was all over the place.

To them you’re probably the home wrecker that thanks to her their grandson will have to grow up with his parents separated. You’re the woman who accepted to be with a married man, which now you think was a little selfish, but you’ve grown to like the man.

The day you went back home with him after he got his divorce was when you actually felt your entire relationship with him suddenly grew tighter and stronger, you wanted to face his ex wife long time ago and what happened that night scratched an itch for you.

You snap out of your thoughts when he makes the last turn and parks his car in front of the restaurant, you take one last breath and unbuckle your seatbelt, you remember what Hob said and you hardly convinced yourself that no matter how tonight ends, nothing is going to change the fact that you want him and he wants you too.

He can’t help but to notice your legs shaking anxiously before you leave the car which immediately make him caress your knee and up your thigh. “Are you going to be okay?”

“It’s too late to ask that” You bite at him which makes him chuckle at you.

He feels a little guilty on the inside now, he would’ve never forced you on anything if he knew you’d be this anxious about meeting them. Even though he’s sure that there’s nothing to worry about, his parents are really nice. And to answer his question, You nod your head and he presses softly onto your knee. He’s here for you.

Your hand is locked in his, and the gentle squeeze of reassurance of his hand surrounds yours when you walk inside, slowly making your way to the reserved table that his parents are already seated on, a little younger than you thought they would be, and his mother who’s already in heels tip toes to wrap her arms around her son, pulling him in closer and kissing his cheek. “Gosh, I miss you so much.” She squeals.

“You must be Y/N.” His father stretches his hand out to shake yours, you force out a nervous smile and shake back his hand. “Mr. Kim, I’ve heard so much about you.” Well, you practically didn’t, but you were trying your best to break the ice.

“We’ve heard so much about you too.” He smiles back at you, at least his was genuine unlike yours. The dimples on his face were the ones that Namjoon and his son got. You shake his mother’s hand after she finally let go of her son, “Mrs. Kim, it’s good to see you.” And your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when she pulls you in for a hug and a little kiss on the cheek. You could swear you heard Namjoon giggling behind you.

“Please, just Soohyun.” She shrugs it off. “Take a seat.”

Namjoon’s behavior doesn’t get unnoticed by his parents of course, he’s whipped and they can easily admit that. He’s been married for three years and never has he ever pulled a chair for his wife for her to sit, the way he looked at you was totally different than the way he looked at his wife. He pulls you a chair to sit and helps you take off the little cardigan you put on, before getting you seated and pulling the chair next to you.

Of course they’re across the table from you two, but Namjoon’s hands were in yours the entire time, intertwined under the table, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and gently caressing your fingers. It was so hard for you to focus when his parents were trying to get to know you more.

“So what do you do?” His father takes a sip of his wine, you straighten your back on your chair and tell him about your job briefly, which he and his wife admire. “Do you love your job?”

“Of course I do, I enjoy it so much.” You nod. “It gets tiring sometimes and my schedule is all over the place, but I love it.”

His mother’s eyes were on her son the entire time, a grin lingering on her face when she sees her son ready to devour you. His glances towards you were warm and loving, he even looks proud of you when you talk about how you have medical students being trained under you. “That’s incredible.” His father speaks, “My friend teaches at your hospital, I’m pretty sure you know him.” And he mentions his friend who actually taught you too, which makes you bond with his father in a snap of a finger.

“And when did you and Joonie meet? His schedule is all over the place too.” Soohyun leans her elbows on the table. “You must’ve met him back when he was still married.”

She clearly didn’t mean no harm, but you find it hard to swallow even though it’s true, and since your hand that’s holding onto Namjoon’s is sitting onto his leg, you can feel him nudge his mother with his leg which makes you force a laugh, “Yes, we met around six months ago.”

“Actually I came onto her.” Namjoon looks at you, his eyes traveling down to your lips and his hands gripping tighter to yours. “And I was unfair to her when I didn’t let her know about my situation.”

“Are you happy?” His mother asks, one hand on her chest and the other reaching to grab Namjoon’s. He smiles and nods his head. “I am. I really am.” Which makes her heart full, she’s really proud of her son that he managed to not only go through this on his own, yet he got back on his feet really fast and is currently happy being with someone else.

At this point you’re totally numb, you could easily fold at what he’s saying but you’re still stiff in your seat. The things you do for this man.

His mother again bonds with you in seconds when she brings up Namjoon’s embarrassing childhood which makes you laugh your heart out, she can easily tell that you’re nervous which makes her a little glad that you actually care what they think of you, which by the way they adore you.

The conversation was about to go downhill a couple of times when his mom mentioning that it’s so hard to raise your first child, she clearly said that you’ll understand what she’s talking about when you and Namjoon have kids. Namjoon was sulking in his seat totally embarrassed and you trying to avoid the topic with dumb ways.

-

“It was really nice to see you.” You shake their hands one last time before hugging your cardigan tighter around your chest, it was just starting to rain and the weather is starting to get really windy during the night time. “You two should totally come over to Ilsan this upcoming weekend, we have to show you around the town.” His father suggests, his relationship with Namjoon’s ex partner was really shallow and they barely spoke, he was generally excited to have you over and show you around their town after you two had mentioned something about the bike path around the lake park.

“Do you wanna go?” Namjoon puts one hand in his pocket and wraps the other one around you, you nod your head aggressively. “Absolutely, I would love to.”

“We’ll see you next weekend.” They finally bid their goodbyes and head back to their rented car, and you and Namjoon hit the road back to his place.  “So how was it?” He barely glances towards you when he’s driving. You lean your head back and sigh. “I need to lay down.”

Your social battery was running low, you spent the entire evening in an uncomfortable dress while having to keep talking, and sometimes even forcing out a laugh or anything. You couldn’t wait to go back home because you have a shift to cover the next morning. “I can’t think with this dress on, and I need to take my heels off like right now.”

“My place or yours?” He asks, and you answer right away. “Mine, I have to work tomorrow.”

As you two get into your place, you rush to take your heels off and run over to your bedroom, you plop down onto your bed face first and hug onto your pillows. “It feels good to be home.”

He laughs when he makes his way towards your bed and plop down on his back right next to you. “Are you okay?”

You nod and turn to face him. “Yeah, it was okay. Although I think we should’ve took things a tad slower.”

“Slower?” He sits on his elbows, his face tilted towards you, and you continue. “To them I’m still a stranger who’s going out with their son, and they probably think I was the reason you really got the divorce.”

“But you were.” He shrugs. Your eyes meet and right when you’re about to ask him to elaborate he continues. “Y/N, when I met you I realized that my life would be a waste of time if it wasn’t with you.”

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes. “You got that from meeting me when I was drunk in a bar? Come on Joon.”

He nudges you with his elbow and chuckles. “I did. I went back home that night thinking about you. Maybe it was physical to begin with and maybe it was a little selfish to not let you know that I was involved in a relationship, deep down I missed the feeling of being loved and touched by someone who actually craves me and wants me for me. And you gave me everything I needed which made me hold on to you.”

You giggle and nudge him back. “It was a little selfish, but we need to stop bringing this up, it’s the past now.”

“You’re right. But you’re more than that to me, you’re incredibly beautiful and really smart, and not to sound so desperate but I want to be around you the entire time.” He whispers.

“I did get the divorce because I wanted you instead.” He inches closer to print the softest kiss to your forehead, you can’t remember if you were ever kissed there but it feels different on so many levels. It’s nothing like the kiss on the lips that you’re used to, and it’s totally different from the kisses and pecks you get on your cheeks from people around you.

It feels warmer and a lot more.. Loving.

Your eyes meets his, it feels like it’s your first time seeing this side from him and it probably is. He even smiles which makes you totally lost in his features, your stomach suddenly pinches you and is this what actual butterflies feel like?

Your face heats up and you clear your throat, your gaze never leaving his, he tucks your hair behind your ear and inches closer to press his lips against yours softly, printing the softest most loving kiss you’ve ever felt.

Forget the butterflies, is this what actual feelings feel like? It suddenly hits you, you’re not unsure anymore. You know exactly what you want with him.

“I really wanted this to be special, but I can’t hold it back any longer.” He covers his face and throws his head back onto your bed, laughing and curling in his spot. “Just say it Namjoon.” You laugh and hit his chest.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He finally gathers up enough courage to spit it out, which makes you laugh your heart out. “This is not middle school Joon. You’re thirty and I’m like twenty something.”

“Come on, just say yes.” He bites on his bottom lip, you decide on teasing him so you lean your chin onto your palm and hum. “Give me some time to think.” Of course you were going to say yes, but you enjoyed seeing him like this. “Make me say yes.”

He grabs your head closer to press his lips against yours, adrenaline rushes through both your bodies and you climb on top of him, leaning your body against his, his hands grab onto your hips before he fully wraps his arms around your waist to hug you towards him, his lips melting with yours into a deep kiss, his teeth grazing over your lower lip to bite into it softly and tugging it. “Alright.” You lean your forehead against his with your eyes half open.

His hands caress your cheeks and he pulls you in for a quick peck. “Is that a yes?” A grin fighting the urge to appear on his lips, you nod your head and nuzzle your nose against his. “Yes.”

-

“Oh, rest in peace to the Namjoon that escorted me to my seat.” You raise an eyebrow at him while taking a sip of your coffee. “Typical male behavior, you’re always too nice in the beginning—“

“I would kiss you to shut you up really, but I’m working.” He interrupts you.

It’s the weekend already and you two are finally flying to Ilsan to stay at his parents, he kept insisting that he wants to be alone and away and even tried to convince you to forget about Ilsan and fly to Jeju or something but of course you had to say no, you promised his parents after all. Although you felt bad for the man who’s been working nonstop this week, so this is like a little vacation for you two.

Of course he’s flying the plane and he gifted you your tickets, and of course you would agree, because come on.

Who wouldn’t fly for free?

You two are sitting near the gate and the cabin crew started boarding, and when he stands up and collects his phone and coffee you rolled your eyes, he once escorted you to your seat and now he’s going ahead of you.

“Even if you weren’t working, I wasn’t going to allow you to kiss me.” You shrug your shoulders carelessly, taking another sip of your coffee which makes him roll his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, come here.” He leans one of his palms against the coffee table and bends down to cup your cheek and kiss you on the lips. “I’ll see you on board baby, okay?”

“Fine.” The little smirk you were trying to hide finally shows on your face when your lip curves up a little.

Namjoon boards the plane, and not too long after you get on board and you finally get seated, you buckle up, put your important documents back in your bag and look through the window, the cabin crew serves you champagne which you are more than glad to have, you needed something to relax you since you were already nervous at the fact of having to not only meet his parents again, this time you’re staying with them for the whole weekend.

You took the champagne because you wouldn’t mind some pampering after all.

Namjoon makes his way out from the cockpit and makes small talk with the flight attendants, and damn it  you wish he didn’t look that good when he’s talking to other women.

You curse on the inside at the birth control you’re on because it makes you very hormonal, not in an emotional way, but in a physical way, your body is on fire the whole time. So when you see him in his uniform, his shirt so tight around his arm and his chest, his fingers go through his dark long hair before he looks around trying to locate you, and when your eyes meets he flashes you a smile that melts your heart in a second.

He makes his way towards you and leans down and puts his hands on your legs. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hey captain.” You play with the badges on his shoulder and lean forward. “You look like a snack.”

“A snack?” He teases and his eyes land on your lips, you nod and continue. “And I would love a snack right now.”

“Careful what you wish for baby.” He whispers and visibly swallows. “Just give me a sign and I will fuck you right here, and they can hear, or watch I don’t care.”

“Oh so it’s okay to fuck me on the plane, but it’s not okay to kiss me in the airport?” You scoff. “Captain, we’re ready for the takeoff announcement.” The flight attendant nudges his shoulder from behind and cuts through the sexual tension that was increasing by the second between the two of you, he stands up in front of you and your eyes level with his covered boner.

You could swear if passengers took their time and squint really hard they would notice.

He puts his hands in his pockets to loosen the tightness, and he can clearly see your eyes locked onto his erection. “It’s all for you.”

“Mister Kim?” The flight attendant calls for him again and he turns to walk to the front of the plane.

He grabs the speaker phone and turns to face the passengers.

“Good evening passengers, this is your captain Kim Namjoon speaking.” And fuck you can’t control yourself anymore.

“First I’d like to welcome you on Korean airlines flight number KA87 heading to Ilsan, we are currently third in line for takeoff.” He looks at his watch. “We are expected to be in the air in approximately eleven minutes, we’ll be up to a cruising altitude of 35 thousand feet, flight time will be one hour, if the seat belt sign is turned please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened.”

He looks at you in the eyes with one of his eyebrows shooting up. “In about ten minutes after departure the cabin crew will be coming around to offer you a light snack and a beverage, until then, sit back, relax and enjoy your flight, thank you.”

He closes the speaker phone and gives you one last look before he turns and heads back inside the cockpit.

You feel extremely impatient and you cannot wait for the second you land there, you have to let it out of your system and you don’t a single damn about his parents at this moment.

Almost 20 minutes into the flight, you’re leaning your head back and looking through the window, a second away from closing your eyes and taking a nap before you hear one of the flight attendants come out from the cockpit, you can’t take your eyes off of her especially when she’s walking towards you.

“Ma’am?” She leans forward to whisper. “We have the lavatory ready for you if you want to.”

You stare at her totally clueless of what she’s talking about, you even look behind you to make sure that she’s talking to you. “Huh?”

She turns her head to look towards the cockpit and you follow her eyesight, and you can see Namjoon waiting near the door with his hands in his pockets, eyes locked onto you.

He’s been waiting for this moment since forever. All his colleagues experienced the mile high club, and back when he was with his ex wife, they suggested that Namjoon should bring her along so he can have that experience too, but of course, they were never there together, they never even had a spark.

And finally, today Namjoon asked the cabin crew to empty out the lavatory throughout the entire flight so he can fulfill one of his long awaited wishes.

You and Namjoon had never done things publicly and you find it a little risky, the plane was too small and you’re not sure if you can control yourself.

You unbuckle your belt and watch Namjoon go inside the bathroom, you nod your head thank you to the flight attendant and follow Namjoon in there, your stomach drops at the excitement and thrill of this idea.

You lock the door behind you and look up at him. “Namjoon we can’t do anything here.”

He rolls his eyes and leans his arm on the door behind you to corner you in the little tiny lavatory that barely leaves you space to get away. “It won’t take ten minutes, come on.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent before peppering you with little wet kisses on your skin that’s slowly heating up.

“Out of all places you want to have sex here?” Your eyes feel heavy when he sends goosebumps all over your body with his hot breath, he even whispers. “I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long.” An audible smirk in his voice. “I want you to cum and I need to watch you trying to stay quiet.”

“They’ll hear us.” You hardly make the effort to push him because you want it too. And the thrill of being heard or caught makes your heart skip a beat and your thighs are already pressed together.

He prints one last kiss onto your jaw and leans his forehead against yours, his fingers wrapping around your neck not too tight. “You know, I kind of want them to hear us, or probably see you with my cum all over that beautiful face of yours.”

Your breath hitches when he tightens the grip around your neck and presses his body against yours, you can feel every inch of him against you including his angry cock that’s buried into his tight pant and begging to be let out.

He steals one kiss from your lips and goes down on his knees, lifting your shirt up to kiss your belly button and move further down to unzip your pants and pull them down with your panties to your ankles. His smirk doesn’t wash away when he sees how wet you already are when he barely touched you, and even when you two have been together for a while now this still boosts up his ego. “Look at you.”

“Shut up.” You whine and lean your head back against the door, your stomach dropping in anticipation at the thought of him touching you, at the thought of his mouth coming in contact to your wet folds.

His gaze meets yours for a split second, you feel your heart racing and you immediately look away, your face and body heating up, you’re slowly getting impatient, and he knows exactly how to tease you. Your body flinches and you immediately grab onto his hair when his plump lips finally landing onto your cunt, his tongue collecting the wetness that already escaped you and finally landing onto your clit before pulling back. He catches the string of your wetness that’s still attached to his lips with his finger and sucks on it. “Mmm.”

A rush of adrenaline combs your entire body that makes you grab tighter onto his hair and pull him towards you, of course he saw it coming and he’s been wanting to lick you clean, both his hands hug your thighs and he dives in, sucking onto your little throbbing bean and flicking his tongue against it, the taste of you sits on his mouth and you taste like absolute candy to him.

“Oh my god.” You find it hard to keep quiet when you feel your body slowly being drugged with pleasure, the man knows what to do with his hands and he slowly teases your entrance and pushes his middle and ring finger inside your clenching vagina making you gasp. He gets up onto his feet to whisper. “Fuck, I knew I’d enjoy watching you suffer to stay quiet.”

His cock is already bulging through his pants when he speaks, you move your knee up to rub it against his clothed boner, he bites onto his bottom lip as his hands work to his neck as he removes his neck tie quickly and grabs your hands together tying them up tightly, he grabs you by your shoulder and pushes you down on the bathroom floor, your head pressed against the door as he unzips his pants and takes out his dick to stroke it a couple of times before pointing it to your lips. “Open.”

You look him up in the eyes and bite onto your lips, he wraps his fingers around your neck and bends down to whisper while biting on his own teeth. “I said open.” And you obey immediately, opening your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate once before spitting on his palm and stroking his cock and shoving it into your mouth, tugging tightly on your hair and fucking your face.

You choke on him with your spit drooling down your chin and top, the tip of his cock repeatedly rubbing down your tonsils, subtle gags escape your mouth while you dig your nails into his thighs trying to slow him down but it was kind of useless. He throws his head back and his jaw falls down when he feels your throat tightening around every curve of his cock.

Your thighs are pressed against each other at the thrill of the situation, your body is acting up on it and you’re even turned on more at the thought of being caught or heard in the bathroom. Although Namjoon on the other side doesn’t care at all, he is willing to pound into you and he won’t care if you were caught or heard. His uncontrollable thrusts down your throat finally halt down when you push him strong enough to catch a breath, you look up at him and wipe your mouth with the back of your tied up hands while you’re panting. “Are you okay princess?” He leans forward towards you while he grazes his thumb on your bottom lip and jaw. Your innocent nods with your doe eyes locked onto his drives him insane. He’s even more impatient to fuck you senseless right now.

He helps you rise up on your feet and presses you against the door again to kiss you harder than before, you grab onto his cock to palm it slowly, you pull back from the kiss and bury your face in the crook of his neck to inhale his scent and kiss him, licking your way up to his ear. “Where do you want me to cum?” He barely speaks when he’s already out of breath.

You look into his eyes worried and confused for a second, he chuckles and turns you to face the lavatory door and whispers into your ear. “After I fuck you of course.” His hands already working to pull down your jeans and panties to your ankles, the view of your wet folds right in front of him makes him go feral and as much as he wants to eat you out again right now but he can’t leave the cockpit empty for too long.

“I can’t let you cum on my face when we’re less than an hour away from meeting your parents.” You look at him over your shoulder, he delivers a loud spank onto your ass and grabs his cock to rub your folds with the tip, smearing your wetness all over your pussy that’s already clenching and asking for attention. “Mmm.” Escapes your lips that you’re biting on when he presses against your entrance.

“Although it’s quite tempting to cum on that beautiful face of yours.” He pushes the tip of his cock into you making you hold your breath and clench onto your fists, the stretch is incredible and it’s already making you see stars. “I think it’s picture worthy.” He smirks and pulls out of you before spitting onto his fingers and rubbing your entrance and pushing back again slowly, this time pushing further inside you and the angle is driving you insane.

“Holy fuck.” You can’t seem to swallow your whimpers, he bites onto your earlobe before whispering. “That little slutty cunt of yours takes me so well baby, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.” You agree right away and your eyes shut tight when he pushes his cock balls deep into you forcing a breath out of your lungs. His pulsating cock inside you feels so good when it hits all the right spots, and he doesn’t waste the chance to make you feel so good with his fingers when he uses two fingers to rub your clit slowly, your hips grind down on him and he takes at a sign to go when he feels your wet cunt relax around him.

 As he finally prepares to pound into you, he wraps one arm around your waist to pin you against him, and the other hand moves to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it and adding the perfect amount of pressure to make it feel better.

Slowly he starts moving his hips up against yours, the friction inside you is incredible and with each thrust the tip hits your spot making the pressure inside your stomach increase and you feel your body tensing. You cover your own mouth with your hand because you’re only seconds away from screaming out his name when he starts slamming inside you.

You look at him over your shoulder to meet his gaze, his eyes are lost between yours and the view of his cock disappearing in and out of you. And in his head he’s totally glad that condoms are officially off the table and no longer an option.

He feels your cunt relax around him before clenching again, he knows your body so well and he’s totally aware that you came surprisingly fast. Your eyes shut and your body shudders in front of him, your legs barely holding the weight of your body and you feel them shaking even.

Your chest rises to catch a breath and only one little whimper makes it out of your lips, your entire back relaxes and you grind your hips against his through your orgasm and he makes sure to pound into you faster through it too. You didn’t know it was physically possible but you feel yourself chasing after another orgasm even when you’re already over stimulated.

Right outside the door you’re leaned against is the flight attendant guarding the door, and she can clearly hear the sounds of your body meeting his which makes her rummage through the glasses to make any sort of noise for the passengers not to hear.

And Namjoon couldn’t give a single care whether people heard or even saw, his fogged up brain can’t comprehend anything but the fact that he’s fucking the woman he’s head over heels for raw which drives him feral and he even pounds harder inside you that you lose your gate and you can’t stand on your feet anymore.

He turns you to face him and lifts you up against the door to wrap your legs around him, and in less than a second he slams harder than before inside you. And you’re fucked already. Your hair is frizzy and your face is flushed red and sweaty, your heart is racing when you feel your next orgasm, and this time you feel it building in your shoulders and your lower back, it feels fucking insane that your tears roll down your cheeks, you cry out his name over and over with each bounce on him. It’s heavier than an orgasm and you know it, he knows it too.. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me baby, good girl.” He delivers a loud spank to your ass cheek that you instantly feel it heating up, and you can’t see it but it totally left a print there.

He grabs onto you tighter and seconds after fucking your breaths out of you, you’re squirting on him hard enough to push his cock out of you and he’s so aroused by what he’s seeing. You cry his name out again with your hand reaching down to your pussy to rub it while you’re squirting, his motion halting and slowly coming to an end when he feels your body calming down slowly.

He presses his forehead against yours and devours into your lips, you’re barely keeping  up with him when you’re trying to catch a breath, he puts you down onto your feet and turns you again to face the door, he needs to cum on the view of your ass spread onto his cock all fucked up by his dick, your squirt soaked him so wet. He reaches his hand for his cock and starts stroking it with his other hand onto your ass, his grip tightens around the head and he jerks himself off to the view of your swollen pink pussy. “Shit—“ He starts releasing his seed onto your ass and cunt, his body tenses with each release before finally relaxing and shooting the last drop near your entrance.

You reach your hand down to rub your clit with that drop, smearing it all over your pussy before putting your fingers into your mouth to taste him, your gaze meets his over your shoulder and you laughs lazily before reaching your hand down to his cock stroking it slowly, “Your pull out game is excellent.”

“I was forced out.” He mirrors your laugh and spanks your ass again making you giggle, you take a step forward and walk towards the mirror, turning to see your ass. “Great art work too.”

“Next time I’ll do the same art work on your face.” He shrugs. “No excuses then, I’m taking pictures of it.” He grabs the toilet paper and rips some.

“Then do it.” You look at him, blinking your eyes a couple of times and he laughs, thinking that you might be joking but you’re not, and he realizes that when you don’t laugh. “You’re kidding.”

And to prove that you’re not, you see his phone in his pocket so you pick it out and slide to the left to open the camera app and hand it to him. “I think this is picture worthy too. Unless you think otherwise.”

It takes him a couple of seconds to take the phone from your hand and get ready to take the shot. “Turn around.” And you don’t think twice, turning around and leaning forward a little to reveal the art work.

He proceeds to take the picture of your lovely ass painted with his cum, the head of his dick positioned against your butt cheek which makes the photos eve spicier. He doesn’t get enough as he kneels down and snaps a couple more pictures, examining them and snapping a couple more again, before getting up and handing you the phone, and if he had the time he would’ve licked you clean and made you cum one more time.

You grab his phone and scroll through the pictures before looking up at him. “Joonie do you think they heard us?”

He grabs the scrunched up toilet paper and runs it under warm water before cleaning you up. “I think so, yeah. So what? Who cares if they heard or not.”

“Oh my god. Of course you don’t care you’re going back to the cockpit but I have to get back to my seat.” You put your pants on. “Can I stay here for the rest of the flight?”

He chuckles before pressing one last kiss onto your lips. “I’ll walk out first if it makes you feel better.” He puts his boxers back on and zips his pants. “I’ll see you later.”

-

The sun was setting near the lake, you and his father rented a couple bikes and drove around the lake while chatting and even racing. Your stomach was starting to hurt from all the laughing and goofing around, the man was incredible and really sweet to you and he was enjoying the bike ride  more than you are. He does activities like that with his daughter but if felt really warm to the heart to be able to do this kind of activities with someone new.

Namjoon was watching you from afar with his mother, both carrying their hot drinks and walking around the lake, it was cold enough to put on heavy jackets and scarves, smokes of condensation rising up from their mouths as they speak. “Your father is having way more fun than I thought.”

Namjoon laughs and bobs his head. “Y/N is  a really nice person and it’s so easy being around her, it just feels normal.”

“Yeah, this afternoon your  father kept blabbering about her nonstop, she’s like a friend he never had.” She crosses her arms and sits on the nearest bench. “He loves her.”

“And you?”

“She makes my son happy, of course I love her.” She leans her head onto his shoulder. “And you?”

“Yes.” He very clearly answers, not beating around the bush. “I’m in love with her.”

He doesn’t even think before speaking as words just flow out of his mouth. “And I don’t think I’ve loved anyone this way before, I haven’t been completely honest with anyone about this yet, but I can easily see myself spending the rest of my life with her.”

“Joonie, honey you need to take things slower.” She worriedly speaks, her hand landing on his knee for reassurance. “I want you to choose her when you’re really sure that she’s the one.”

“I know she’s the one.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder and exhales, a large cloud escaping his mouth. “Do you think she feels the same way?”

“Otherwise she wouldn’t have agreed to spend the weekend with your old parents, and trust me she would’ve backed out on hanging out with your father.” Namjoon and his mother both look up at you and his father laughing your hearts out at how you almost fell into the lake after your last race.

“You’re  right.” He bites onto his lip when he sees you putting the bike down and sitting onto the floor near the lake, totally pooped out and exhausted. “I need to rest.” You even cough and put your hand on your stomach. You needed to catch a breath.

“Look at your father.” His mother laughs when she sees her husband put his bike down and land onto the floor next to you. “I’ve been trying to convince him for ages to come here and ride our bikes but it takes your girlfriend one dinner.”

“Should I be worried? Is he going to try and steal her away from me?” Namjoon jokes and rubs her shoulder. “Mom are you jealous?”

“Of course I’m not.” She straightens her back and takes a look at her husband who quickly rises on his feet when you do, you make your way towards a bunch of children skateboarding and ask to join them even when you never did it before. “Okay maybe I am, but just a little.” And Namjoon laughs at his mother while he’s anxiously looking at you worried you’d hurt yourself.

The moment he realized how he actually felt towards you, there’s this instinct that built inside him and he feels the need to protect you at all costs, and he needs to keep you safe, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt or upset. It may be a father instinct but not in a creepy way or anything because he feels the same way towards Jay. He’s always on standby when you’re away from him, ready to help you and pick you up if you fall.

“Is your father actually going to ride the skateboard? … Oh no he is.”

You’re holding his father’s hands while he’s trying to balance on the skateboard, and you’re laughing your heart out at him when he’s stiff and trying his best not to fall, and he’s bickering at you and biting onto his own teeth trying to hold a laugh.

Not only Namjoon and his mother are watching you.

There’s another set of eyes staring at you from far way wondering what you and Namjoon did to actually deserve being happy, because this person simply thinks you don’t.

She thinks that all the misery she’s currently going through is all because of him, she wasted her life being with him and she wasn’t even half happy, she never wanted him nor loved him.

Back when he tutored her when they were in high school she never thought of him more than a friend  or even a classmate, her parents never forced her neither, they simply manipulated her and made her think that he’s going to be her partner for the rest of her life.

They dated not because they wanted to, they simply dated because they were around each other the entire time, and if she recalls correctly, she never told him that she loved him because she never did, and she didn’t hate him neither back then.

Her entire life growing up was a literal struggle when her parents kept comparing her to him. Namjoon is better at this, Namjoon got a higher grade, Namjoon is smarter, Namjoon this Namjoon that.

Okay scratch the fact that she didn’t hate him, she does, and more than ever.

She hates the way he always looked at her, she hates the way he talks and even the voice tone he argued with, she couldn’t stand his touch, the way his hand felt on her skin was unbearable.

The nights she cried herself to sleep were countless, she thinks he doesn’t deserve this happy ending and he simply just can’t have it.

What made things even worse was in fact Jay, she can’t stand the man and now she has a piece of him lying around her and actually calling her mom, and by then she knowss she reached rock bottom.

And to be fair she wasn’t quite disappointed when she found out that he’s seeing someone, she thought it could be her only way out and it actually was. But Namjoon does not deserve to be this happy.

Seeing you with his family around the lake scratched something inside her and made her insist on fucking up your lives even more. She needs to take her revenge even when she can easily admit that it was equally her fault and he feels the same way towards her.

And what better way is there to hurt Namjoon than to hurt the person he loves the most?

Namjoon gets up on his feet quickly and rushes towards you when you fall to the floor while you were trying to balance on the skateboard. Your ankle hurts and you scraped your knee until it was actually bleeding. “It’s okay, you’re okay, right?” He gets down onto his knees to help you, you gasp when his hand hovers above your knee barely touching it. “It hurts.”

“You should’ve thought about this earlier when you decided getting on the skateboard.” Namjoon carries you up and puts you down on the nearest bench before looking around trying to figure out  a way to help you. “We’ll return the bikes, you can take her home.” His father suggests before Soohyun hits his shoulder. “You’re equally guilty.”

The man argues with his wife and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I’ll take Y/N home.” And he proceeds to carry you up again and walk towards his car that wasn’t parked very far away before he takes you home.

“I’m sorry I probably ruined the night.” You land on his bed before he kneels down to wipe the blood on your knees with an alcohol swab. “Of course you didn’t, don’t say that, you were having fun.”

“I saw you talking to your mom.” You clench your fists into the bed sheets when the alcohol starts burning your wound, “I’m almost done. Yeah we were chatting.”

“Mhm.” You nod, then the room turns quiet for nearly a minute, you look at his lips twitching as if there’s something to say and he’s been hiding something. Before he finally speaks. “I’m in love with you Y/N.”

Your heart races because you didn’t see that coming, you knew it already but it felt different to actually hear it.

Your gaze shifts to his  eyes as he reciprocates, he clears his throat and exhales. “I’ve been wanting to tell you a couple nights before I got the divorce, I just didn’t want to scare you or something.. Which seems.. That you are.. right now?”

“N-no. I’m not scared, there’s nothing to be scared about.” You shrug nonchalantly, trying hard to keep a straight face, “I just… Didn’t see it coming like right now.”

“Right now?” He asks.

“I figured I’d be dressed up when you actually  say it, but right now I smell like blood and actually need a shower.”

He tilts his face as his eyes are still locked onto yours, before he leans in and presses the softest kiss to your cheek. “I don’t care.”

You find it very hard to say it back even when you feel the same way, it’s just that you never did this before, you never told anyone that you were in love with them too. “Okay.”

Honestly no answer was better than this answer. That was so stupid.

“Okay?” He laughs, this could usually set any guy off and it could easily mean that you don’t love him back. But Namjoon knows  you very well like the back of his hand and he knows you feel the same way. And he feels so relieved that he finally said it to you.

“Okay.” You giggle. He cups your cheek and kisses your cheek once more before saying. “Okay.” And nodding his head.

No matter how hard his ex wife tried to hurt you, Namjoon was always one step ahead of her, he’s been living with that woman for three years he knows how she thinks.

Her thought process was impaired and she was blinded by hate, he knew she’s onto something but he can’t tell you, and he’ll try his best to handle everything without you knowing and having to be worried or scared.

He was always there for you and he can’t let you get hurt.

[leviscolwill]

drive me crazy ! (smau)

pairing: bsf!mason mount x reader (+ minimal jadon sancho x reader)

summary: you and mason are just friends, he's just not into sharing you with his teammates ! (face claim: jorja douglas)

note: forgive me for this contains profanities and suggestiveness 😞✋

now playing drive ME crazy ! by lil yachty...

yn.jpg

liked by sanchooo10, masonmount and 4,814 others

yn.jgp searching 'how to start a conversation' on a website

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user92 fittest girl around

masonmount your antisocial ass should've done that a long time ago

yn.jpg i don't need to start any conversation when you're being sociable enough for the two of us 😇

sanchooo10 idk it seems you can hold a conversation pretty well to me

yn.jpg it's all chatgpt's work

sanchooo10 that's what i thought

masonmount

what's going on ?

yn.jpg

wdym

masonmount

jadon ?

really ?

yn.jpg

what you asking for tho 🤨🤨

there's nothing going onnnn

yet 🤭

masonmount

shut up.

you said you'd never date a footballer

or am i the only one getting this treatment 😞

yn.jpg

stop spreading misinformation ‼️

i'm not dating him

masonmount

if you wanted to fuck a footballer you should've just asked me smh

yn.jpg

are you saying i'm ran through sir ?

bold coming from you

he's the one who dmed me anyways 🙄

and you wouldn't have given me his number

gatekeeper

masonmount

yeah ur right

yn.jpg

liked by masonmount, benchilwell and 17,201 others

yn.jpg passenger princessed [tagged: sanchooo10]

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masonmount you really ditched me for this guy ? [this comment has been deleted by its author]

sanchooo10 ur unreal

sanchooo10 u can be my passenger princess anytime you want 🫶

masonmount i'm still her favourite driver bro 😹😹 [this comment has been deleted by its author]

masonmount beautiful ❤️

yn.jpg thank you my masey mase 🫶🫶

masonmount

liked by reecejames, judebellingham and 1,013,816 others

masonmount καλωσήρθατε (welcome)

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madders okay slim shady

yn.jpg do blondes really have more fun ?

masonmount not when you're here

yn.jpg stop lying you're so happy i came here

masonmount you what here 😧

yn.jpg who dyed your hair ?? she did such a good job 😻

masonmount idk but she kept hitting on me i think i'm gna block her

yn.jpg and i think you're delusional

yn.jpg

liked by pasabist, wolfiecindy and 34,197 others

yn.jpg been a hot minute

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sanchooo10 very hot indeed

yn.jpg thank uuu

masonmount more delusional than me [this comment has been deleted by its author]

masonmount i am no better than a man 😞

yn.jpg idk how to tell u this...

masonmount i look so good on this pic

yn.jpg i should have thrown you off the ship when i had the opportunity 😪

masonmount

liked by ur.bsf, declanrice and 1,498,627 others

masonmount my girl my girl my girl

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declanrice finally

judebellingham finally

benchilwell finally

ur.bsf finally

ur.bsf took you long enough 🙄

masonmount took ME long enough ?????

yn.jpg i thought i was gna get my driver's license before it happened ngl

masonmount @yn.jpg AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT HUH ?

yn.jpg always keep your football playing best friends close 🤩🤞

masonmount acting like you didn't reject me a hundred times over 10 years

yn.jpg i'm not sure that's something u wanna say on beyonce's internet bae

yn.jpg oh how much i love you

masonmount idk i thought you liked a certain someone more than me tho

yn.jpg that's cause jealousy looks good on you 🤭

[corviiids]

customary sparknotes for chapter 10

nobody asked this time i just got shit to say. don't read this post unless you've read chapter 10 of my akechi palace au fic "as you like it" because it will make 0 sense forever. here we go

the code for this part took way longer than i want to admit for it being so simple because it just kept breaking in really stupid ways and then it didn't work on mobile. it's fine. it's fine now. tell me if it's broken. don't tell me

i had this dream sequence part drafted back when i posted chapter 9. the thing that took so long was the action sequence, which is ALWAYS the thing that takes so long. i finished my first draft of this chapter about a month ago sitting in a hotel bar, and i got it to where it is now a few days ago sitting in the same hotel bar, so, thanks to that hotel bar and its fantastic jalapeno cocktail and very patient staff for sponsoring this chapter. not sponsoring actually the cocktails are expensive i sponsored myself. anyway

end of dumb preamble? beginning of dumb amble

this first bit takes place in ren's mind as a dream sequence after he gets hit with the sleep effect, basically. parts of it are laid out in a sort of mockup of a stageplay script, although obviously this isn't how you'd write a real script haha. i wanted to play with, like... akechi's palace is a theatre, but he and ren have a lot in common. in his own way, ren is a performer, too.

the scenes with the phantom thieves are all in past tense, which is how the flashbacks in this fic have been written. the recurring motif is how the phantom thieves interact with ren, mostly via his glasses, generally along the theme of how they see him. i didn't really make this explicit, but in all of these scenes, none of the thieves look him directly in the eye.

in the game, ren usually has two or three dialogue options. his narration in this moments are the options he didn't choose. he always chooses the one which is the least direct and the most deflective, because in these moments he is feeling vulnerable and being honest is too overwhelming. by the way, "don't look at me like that" is text that appears in one of p5's menus:

which i just find interesting.

the scenes with akechi, by contrast, are told in present tense. they're also rife with unreality. the setting changes as though it's a dream, which of course it is. it's unclear whether these scenes are an amalgam of things that happened that ren is mixing and remembering oddly, or if he's conjured them.

ok let's look at the script scenes as well. they're basically all retellings of ren's run-in with shido.

the idea is that in tokyo, ren spends a lot of time lying in bed replaying those moments in his head, wondering how else it could have gone. no matter how many times he plays it out, no matter how he thinks about regretting what he did, walking away, making a different call,

he always makes the same choice.

do you ever think about how disproportionate that trumped up assault charge was? ren, frustrated and bitter, has to wonder - if he was just going to get pulled up on assault anyway, what difference would it have made if he'd actually just fucking done it? at least gotten to do the thing he got busted for. for catharsis, or whatever.

unlike the phantom thieves, akechi DOES look ren in the eye

he doesn't let ren get away with dodging his questions, and he repeatedly asks ren what he actually thinks

and with akechi, ren is able to say what he's really thinking.

ok now the rest of the amble

i love writing a fic which has akechi's name plastered all over it and then repeatedly going SURPRISE! this is about ren. it's about ren.

ren's been really struggling with this whole hero thing a lot. i think this battle is where it really comes to a head, because all the shit akechi was giving him in the last chapter about the ethics of stealing a heart is really getting to him. he's wondering whether he's really doing this for akechi or if it's for his own satisfaction, plus the burden of being the leader of the phantom thieves weighs heavier and heavier because if he's not doing this for akechi then that means he's doing it for himself, which means he can't play this as self-sacrificial or selfless, which means his team is putting themselves at risk for him. he's disoriented and he gets put out of commission for his trouble, which just puts his team further at risk while he spirals and tries to do right by everyone. it's a chance for the phantom thieves to step up and save him - as their friend, not their leader. i love the phantom thieves and their dorky power of friendship.

i also really liked coming up with cognitive joker. the idea of the VIP Box being inhabited solely by shido and joker was super fun to me. shido is gone from akechi's cognition, which begs the question of why the box still exists if it was allegedly only there to seat the VIP, the person at the centre of akechi's struggles - obviously it's because the distortion has grown far beyond shido, who is no longer the only person akechi performs for. joker isn't there as a guest. he broke in, and he's unkillable. by the way, his hair is based on the persona super live key art from 2019:

look at his swoopy hair. isn't he cute? i wanna squish his cheeks.

how about that awakening

okay, here's a fun fact about the fucking awakening. here's a FEW fun facts.

1. i came up with the idea of fusing robin hood and loki into a third persona before i had even published chapter 1 (way back in 2019), which means i had that idea long before persona 5 royal was ever announced.

when p5r's marketing started up and was like "we're gonna fuse everyone's first and second personae for a third persona!" i was like (throws a chair at the wall)

2. my first idea for the third persona, back at that point, was for akechi's third persona to be adraestia. she was a greek goddess who later became identified with nemesis/rhamnousia, the goddess of retribution for hubris.

then fire emblem three houses came out, and i realised adraestia was only going to call to mind the black eagles. lol. i was like ok, that's fine, it doesn't really matter, and if it bothers me a lot, i can switch to naming her rhamnousia or something.

then THIS YEAR, i decided to check whether nemesis/rhamnousia existed in smt lore as a shadow already. and as it turns OUT, i had forgotten a VERY KEY FACT ABOUT PERSONA 3.

SHE'S TAKEN. BY A DIFFERENT JUSTICE KID. so i had to change tacks again.

this really left me floundering for a second i gotta say. and then i remembered that last year, i'd written a scene in a fit of pure self-indulgence in which akechi starts telling ren all about the iliad. (this scene appears in chapter 8.) when i wrote that scene, i hadn't really been thinking that hard about how it was going to affect the plot. i just thought achilles and akechi had some interesting similarities, and also, i wanted to talk about the iliad, so i wrote the scene and figured i could cut it if it stuck out too much. anyway, i remembered that scene and was like, holy shit hang on, i have an entire thing already set up for a mythological figure who represents akechi's soul. and it actually works way better than rhamnousia, whose connection with akechi's struggle here is pretty surface-level in comparison. here's a line from my planning doc:

pretty cool how in royal he literally does have twin fates: short and blazing or long and unremarkable

so that's how akhilleus became akechi's third persona. wow! what a happy accident! i mean im a genius and it was all planned from the start obviously. it just goes to show that sometimes you go on a stupid little infodump and it ends up solving a plot problem you didn't foresee an entire year later. fixation works.

akhilleus himself is really cool to me. if i had a persona, achilles would be mine, so i hope akechi fucking appreciates that i've donated him to the goro akechi cause. idk if any artists are keen on doing character designs for personae but of the suite of art i daydream about commissioning for this fic, key art for akhilleus is definitely up there. the woman hovering behind him is his mother, obviously - and akechi's.

this other thing

i also just wanted to mention this

i usually don't outline or plan fics very well, as you can probably fucking tell from the above. im just really short sighted when it comes to outlines and i usually can't see more than a few chapters in advance except for either vague shapes or VERY SPECIFIC SCENES, so doing this kind of intricate planning is a real challenge for me.

the goho-m thing is such a small detail, but im really pleased with it just because it is one of the things i actually did very deliberately plan and set up in advance. it first appears in chapter 6 when ren and makoto go to the zoo - ren gives all his goho-ms to makoto as a show of trust, to demonstrate that he trusts her to get him and their friends home safely after they resolve his fear and resentment for her plan almost getting him killed. i did that to wrap makoto's arc, but it also served a very important plot purpose in chapter 8: ren is stranded in the courtyard with akechi's "shadow" self, and he has no easy way of getting out of the palace because he gave all of his goho-ms to queen. oh no, ren trusted his friends so much it's gonna get him killed. unless?

(this is a plot hole p5 the game just never bothers to fill or else they wouldn't get dramatic anime scenes of the phantom thieves sprinting out of the palaces as they explode and im at peace with that but i still think it's funny and also i wanted to fill the plot hole myself.)

so then it finally gets to come back in chapter 10, when ren finally falls from being their fearless heroic leader and gives his friends a chance to step up and save him for once. makoto still has the goho-ms, and when ren is occupied and out of commission, she steps up and saves them like he trusted her to do. guys! i planned something that spanned five whole chapters. wow! wow i did it.

LONG POST. VERy LONG POST. god. HEY this is it the palace is destroyed. there are still two chapters to go and a lot left to get through, but palace-wise this was the climax, which is why it took so god damn long because it's terrifying to write something so pivotal. but thank you so much for reading the fic! and this if you read it! i wrote this mostly for me again. but if you read it i love you.

[funky-fox-fics]

Jellie gasps awake, trembling slightly, eyes wide. The world is bright. The world was--so dark a moment ago, dark and gold and gone, and now--now it's here again. She flattens her fur.

Stars dance at her paws.

She gets to her feet slowly, swaying slightly, and takes a moment to recuperate. Around her is pollen and stardust, intermingling like brothers. A butterfly lands on her nose, its wings glittering orange. No, she doesn't need to breathe, she realizes, not anymore.

Her first step is tentative, and then the next is confident, and then she walks through this wonderland. The grass is a healthy green below her paws. The sky is bright but filled with stars, and purples--pinks--blues bleed into the horizon before her. She bats at a bug, and it buzzes off.

She's walking for a long time, never tiring, and her mind wanders to her owner--Scar. He was--she loved him, is the thing. She loves him, and now he's--no, she's gone. Not him. Never him. A wail rises from her throat, mourning and hollow, and it tears through the pleasantness of the deserted meadow and takes it over.

She's never going to see him again.

Never.

Jellie crouches low to the ground, and begins to howl her woes into the damp soil, when she hears pawsteps.

She freezes, and turns around.

Three cats - a ginger tabby, a pure white, and a brown tabby with a white chest - stand before her, expressions sympathetic.

"Who are you?" she asks, voice breaking.

"I'm Jake," the ginger meows. "These are Tiger--" he flicks his tail to the brown, "and Angel." He flicks his tail to the white. "You're dead."

"I can tell," she snarls. "I'm never going to see Scar again!"

"That was your owner, yes?" Angel asks, tilting his head.

"Yes."

"Then come with me." Angel whisks his tail. "I watch over my owner too, many a day--you'll be able to see them again too."

Despite her better judgement, she follows them. It seems barely a minute before the grass gives way to translucent mist, which gives way to wind. She can feel the chill of it, hear its whistle below her.

"Look down," Tiger says, dipping his head. "You know where you died; that's how we'll find him."

Jellie flicks her gaze down to her paws, then to the wind. The wind parts, and then she's staring at Scar's room--at her corpse--at her corpse, at her corpse, at her corpse--at Scar. At wonderful, joyful Scar.

Without thinking, she reaches a paw out to him, and suddenly she's down on earth with him, floating just above his head, combing her paw through his hair.

She yanks back, and then she's back in the stars, Tiger staring at her expectantly. "Go on," he meows, tilting his head. "Come back when you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready?"

"You will be." Jake pads forward and noses her shoulder. "Go on down there, and give him a proper send-off. Let him know you're still here."

She nods, brisk and sharp, and goes back down with an outstretched paw.

Scar shivers at her touch--he's still here with his brother, and the nurse. She talks, and Scar occasionally interjects something in a wobbly voice, and Scar's brother is quiet.

She circles her own body, and it's so limp and lifeless that it makes her shudder. She doesn't know how to possess herself, though she wishes she did.

After a few moments of that, she turns back to Scar. Something flutters in her chest--a heartbeat, almost--and for a half-second she and Scar lock eyes and she breathes and she is almost corporeal, almost, almost, and she begins to purr, a rich and deep thing that comes like an engine's hum.

And the moment passes, and Scar's gaze wavers, and he begins to sob, loud and genuine (like he always is). Jellie's purr turns to a caterwaul, and she knows no one can hear it, it's not of the same fullness as her purr, too unreal, too high.

She swims through the air and lands on his lap. She rubs up against him and nearly falls through, but she jerks back with a startled mew. She tentatively leans into his chest, and when she thinks his chest is an obstacle it becomes one, and she mourns in a long meeeeow to the world while Scar leans into her ghostly pelt unknowingly.

She wants to become real again, if only to lick a tear from his chin and taste its salty sweetness.

A flutter in her chest--

She reaches up and licks his chin, and while she's still invisible, Scar cracks open an eye to look at her. His breath is short and quick.

I love you so much, Jellie thinks, turning back into starlight. I hope you never forget me. Please don't ever forget me. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Reluctantly, she lets go of mortality, and joins death in its eternal harmony.

RIP Jellie. You will be missed.

[admiringlove]

perfect. the tenth part of @angstober on my profile. unfortunately this is like really late because i had exams and assignment submissions and there's a few more coming after this as well 😭 masterlist of the event can be found here.

it’s tiring.

the same thing over and over again for the past god knows how long. you wake up in the morning to an empty bed, tangled sheets like a ghost of his presence that faded long ago. the room feels suffocating, every corner heavy with memories that linger like cobwebs you’re too afraid to clear away. you leave for class, for work, dragging yourself through the motions, only to return to an empty home every night.

it’s almost cruel, the way the little things still scream his name. a coffee cup, abandoned on the counter with a faint ring of dried liquid. a hoodie slung over the back of a chair, forgotten in haste. the faintest scent of his cologne clinging to the hallway like a cruel trick of your senses. proof he’s been here. proof he still exists. but proof, also, that he’s always just out of reach.

you reckon it’s been months since you last saw him—really saw him. the kind of eye contact that lingers, the kind of words that carry weight. now, even your memories of his voice feel hollow, like echoes in an empty room. maybe he doesn’t even remember you exist.

and maybe the worst part is that you can’t decide which would hurt more: knowing he’s forgotten, or knowing he hasn’t.

because geto suguru wasn’t just your best friend. he was everything.

your rock. your family. your closest companion. the one who held your face in his hands like it was precious, tilting you toward a stream of sunlight filtering through linen curtains while you lay tangled in bed, laughing at nothing at all. the one who shared late-night whispers about dreams and fears and things too small and fragile to survive in daylight. together, you built a world that belonged only to you; a space where time stretched soft and unhurried, and the rest of the universe spun on an axis entirely separate from your own.

you’d thought it would always be that way, that no matter what storms came, he’d be there to pull you into the eye of it, where it was safe and quiet. but he hadn’t called upon you in so long, and the silence was deafening.

you didn’t feel like you existed until he called upon you. and that was a dangerous thing. because now, without him, you weren’t living. you were surviving. floating through days like a ghost, hollow and heavy all at once.

and the hardest part wasn’t the absence itself, but the memories that kept replaying in its place. the laughter, the quiet, the light. remnants of a world you once believed would never fade.

it’s only when it’s 2 in the morning, and you’re nursing a glass of room-temperature coffee you probably should’ve thrown away hours ago, that you hear the keys turn in the lock.

the sound is foreign, almost unsettling. your chest tightens with the weight of it, like you’ve been caught somewhere you don’t belong—even though this is your home. the mug trembles faintly in your hands as you stare down at the lukewarm liquid, your gaze fixed on the faint swirl of cream that never quite mixed in. the bitter taste on your tongue curdles into something sharp, something sour.

you hear the door creak open, and then his voice—soft, quiet, as if the word itself is apologizing. “tadaima.”

you freeze. it feels unreal, like you’ve conjured him from the depths of your exhaustion. and when your eyes lift to meet his, the air between you feels charged, a fragile thread stretched thin enough to snap. his expression mirrors yours too perfectly—wide eyes, lips parted as if mid-thought, his body stiff and unmoving in the doorway.

you think of all the times you waited for that voice, for that face. of all the mornings you woke to sunlight and a presence that made this house feel alive. now, the room feels suffocating, while he looks like a stranger standing in the place of someone you once knew.

and you don’t know what to do.

“h-hi,” is what you manage to croak out, the word barely audible over the lump lodged in your throat. you instantly curse yourself, fumbling to add, “okaeri.”

“y-yes, hi,” he replies, his voice just as uncertain, as if the sight of you has thrown him off balance. he shrugs off his coat with stiff movements, scratching the back of his neck like he’s searching for something, anything, to say.

the air feels cold despite the fuzzy socks hugging your feet, and it settles thick in your chest, pressing down harder with every passing second. you can’t help but stare. he looks different. had he gotten a haircut? when had he gotten those boots? details like these feel absurd to notice now, but they gnaw at you, tiny reminders of how much time has slipped through your fingers.

he clears his throat when he feels your gaze lingering, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “i didn’t think you’d be up.”

you want to tell him that you’re always up, that sleep has been a stranger to you for weeks. but the words don’t come. instead, you grip the mug tighter, the ceramic cooling rapidly in your hands. something unspoken hangs in the air, heavy and brittle, and you wonder which of you will break first. but you mentally prepare yourself. because if not now, then when? you take a breath, your hands trembling slightly as you set the mug down. “is that why you came home late?”

wait, no. that’s not how that was supposed to come out. the question hangs in the air, sharp and brittle, and you instantly regret it. it feels too much like an accusation. too pointed. too… desperate.

suguru blinks at you, those familiar eyes widening in surprise, a flash of guilt crossing his face like a fleeting shadow. it’s almost too much. too real. his expression reminds you of something fragile, something you could break with just a word. and in that moment, you feel the heat creep up your neck, your cheeks flushing as the weight of your own vulnerability presses down on you.

“i—uh,” he stammers, his gaze flickering nervously, as if unsure what to say next. but instead of defending himself, he just stands there, a few feet away, the space between you feeling insurmountable now. “i think so. yeah. ‘m sorry.”

“is that all you have to say to me?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper, the question hanging in the air like an accusation you never meant to make. your hand trembles a little. but you smooth it out. again and again. you play with the ring he’d given you years ago, a promise of what your lives would look like. a promise that now feels like a distant memory, a fantasy you once believed in.

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you—really looks at you—and his face softens in a way that almost hurts. his eyes are solemn, regretful. he pulls his boots off, the sound of them hitting the floor like a dull echo in the quiet room, and without another word, he steps into the kitchen.

he moves like he’s unsure of his place here anymore. like he’s not sure if he has a place here at all.

he stands next to you, silent, as he grabs the mug of shitty coffee from the counter, its warmth long faded, and dumps it into the sink with a swift motion. “don’t drink that. i made it yesterday.”

you blink, surprised at the sudden shift in his actions. it’s a strange kind of intimacy. caring, but hollow, like he’s trying to make up for something without knowing how. you want to say something but the words are tangled in your throat, too heavy to speak. “suguru-”

“i know,” he sighs, his voice like gravel, weighed down with exhaustion. “i know. ‘m sorry.”

it’s like he can see it coming. like he’s already mapped out the destruction, the way every little thing you’ve built together is going to burn to the ground. he knows that in a matter of moments, everything—everything—you thought you had will be reduced to ash. the memories, the soft laughter in the early mornings, the way his hands fit into yours so perfectly, the small, meaningless things that once kept you tethered to him, all of it will crumble. all of it will vanish.

you both know, even as the words hang in the air, that this is the end. the end of your teenage years spent sharing a bedroom, whispering into the night about everything and nothing. the end of the mornings spent in the kitchen, dancing barefoot to jazz while cooking the shittiest meals. the end of the soft touches, the warmth, the feeling of him pulling a blanket over your sleeping body when you passed out on the couch after too many late nights. the end of the mornings where you’d wake up to the smell of his cologne and a cup of coffee waiting for you.

and all that remains now is the realization that you won’t exist in his world anymore. not the way you used to. not the way you needed to. you won’t be the one he turns to when the world is too much, and you won’t be the one he calls out to when he’s lonely because he won’t fucking call upon you anymore—

you feel it, right there, in the pit of your stomach. the quiet, suffocating weight of it, pressing down on your chest, stealing your breath. the calm before the storm. the stillness that comes just before your world shatters.

and then it breaks. right there, in the quiet of the kitchen, the silence between you two suffocating, and you finally feel it—your throat closes up, the tears burning at the edges of your eyes. you try to hold it in, try to stop the sob that threatens to escape, but it’s impossible. the pain is too much, too sharp, and it tears through you like a jagged knife.

you break. your hands tremble, the sharp edges of your nails biting into the soft skin of your palm as you try to steady yourself. you try not to sob, but it’s too much. you’re suffocating. you can’t breathe. you can’t stop the tears, the heat rising to your face, burning your skin with the weight of it all.

not a single sound escapes you. you don’t want him to hear you break. you don’t want him to know how badly he’s destroyed you. but you can’t help it. it’s like all the years, all the moments, everything that’s been weighing on you for months suddenly crashes down in one brutal wave, and there’s no stopping it. you feel your soul fracture, a million tiny pieces scattering across the floor.

“what went wrong?” you whisper, voice trembling, barely audible through the thick, suffocating weight of the room. your breath hitches between soft sobs. “did i do something? i don’t- i don’t understand.”

your words trail off into a broken silence, and for a moment, you can’t look at him. you’re terrified of what his face might tell you. but then he sighs, low and heavy, like he’s carrying the weight of a thousand regrets.

and somehow, you put it all together.

it’s a fucked-up kind of understanding, jagged and bitter, but it settles into the pit of your stomach all the same. everything—everything—you’d envisioned, all the years you’d mapped out together, all the promises whispered in dark rooms, now stood in front of you, shattered into pieces too small to put back together.

suguru and you were supposed to make it to the end of the line. that’s how it was supposed to go. you imagined it that way, planned it that way—he did too. or at least, you thought he did. you felt he did. you can still picture it so vividly it hurts, like pressing on a bruise that won’t heal.

the day you moved into this apartment flashes behind your eyes. sitting on the cot together, surrounded by fluffy blankets you hadn’t yet unpacked, scrolling through pinterest on your phone. picking out homes, marveling at the way your futures lined up so perfectly. talking about how many children you’d have. dreaming about the life you’d lead, the life you’d build together. growing old, side by side.

but now, all those dreams are scattered across the cold tiles of this kitchen, broken and sharp, as if they’d never meant anything at all.

you look up at him, your vision blurred with tears, and it hurts—god, it hurts—because his face doesn’t look like the suguru you built those dreams with. he looks tired. distant. and even now, standing just a few feet away from you, he feels impossibly far.

and you know it. it’s all over. everything has been lost.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[fujimomozane]

"A Star Reborn" Part 1 & 2

Summary: Magister Merlin reappears after being gone for a decade, and is immedtely thrust into a task- to put out the fire in Ryeham and find the arsonist at fault. Coupled with memory loss, fainting, and a sickening sense of deja vu, it's no easy task!

Note: This an intro to my version of Merlin before I post other stuff. This is also available to read on AO3, I have the exact same username as here! It might be easier to read there.

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Part 1- You're Finally Awake! (2700 words)

  It was the third time that Magister Merlin had vanished for years and then reappeared in the Mystical House.

  It had happened in the early morning. Dolly was only waking up, while Hammie had been studying locating spells all night and was busy finalizing one. Chippy had gone off into Ryeham.

  Hammie went into the Magister's room every so often to retrieve his research, but at times, she went in just to sit on his bed and stare at the wall. Some nights she thought she heard his voice.

  For the past ten years, she had hoped Magister Merlin would return after having vanished for the fourth time. 

  Twenty years ago he had left Ryeham to travel all over the world. 

  Thirty, he had woken up for the third time thirty years ago, after disappearing for even more than... how long? Hammie couldn't quite remember. It must've been decades. 

  She had a hard time keeping up with the dates. Keeping a journal helped with that. 

  All she knew for certain was that she missed Merlin to a degree she hadn't thought possible. It never got easier waiting for him. It was like a constant state of withdrawal.

  But when a thud came from Merlin's room, no one was in it.

  Dolly and Hammie entered it with broom and staff raised. Red flashed in the dark, and a burning smell lingered in the room; it was warm and deep like a wildfire. 

  And on the table, Merlin laid his head, his glasses askew and his horns not poking out from his hair. He was dressed suspiciously plainly, there was no way he would've dawned something like that on his own. He had a penchant for eccentric fashion.

  His iconic hat, which originated the tradition of mage hats, sat next to him. The branch sprouting from its top and most of the tassels that once hung off of it were missing, leaving three red tassels behind, and three Esperian coins on the other side, each hanging by a red thread. Red thread was a charm and warded off evil. 

  The lack of embellishments on the hat left it puny, and the warm magic that the Magister radiated was weak. 

  At least Hammie wouldn't need that locating spell anymore. Instead, she'd begin working on a memory recovery spell the next night...

  Hammie rushed to him, checking for any injuries, and finding none, she sighed in relief. Her sigh made Merlin stir. His hair, once floor-length, ended at his waist. Hammie would need time to get used to his new look.

  "Magister Merlin? Magister, please wake up," Dolly called, hovering over the Magister like a lamp over a book. 

  "Mirael... be quiet, my dear, I am rather busy," he mumbled. Dolly blanched. Besides having red hair, Dolly was not Mirael or anything like her. Mirael was Merlin's student in the past. Hammie wasn't much fond of her. The girl was troublesome.

  Merlin raised his head, his lips downturned and brows drawn into a knot above his barely-ajar eyes. His voice, that strange androgynous tenor, was raspy and stilted from sleep. "Did I not tell you... to stop playing with fire?"

  Hammie was awestruck. She knew she'd see her Magister again. Yet, it felt unreal, like the being before her was not the Magister, but a mirage, an oasis in the desert she'd been treading for a decade. 

  She didn't expect to see the Magister like this, depleted, perplexed, and mumbling to himself like an old man. She should've expected it. 

  "Hey, Magister. You're finally awake!" Hammie squealed, reaching up to grab Merlin's arm. 

  The only thing that mattered was that her favorite person in the world was finally back. 

  Where the fuck am I?   Was not a graceful thought to have upon waking up from what felt like being murdered. 

  Looking around, he was met with a dim, warm room made largely of dark wood and furnished with it. Everything oozed luxury. 

  The second thing he thought was Who are you? as a white hamster pulled on his arm. Some redhead, perhaps a maid, was gawking at him. 

  "Do I know you?" he said, creaky as an old door. He hadn't spoken in ages. 

  "Magister Merlin, it's me, your familiar, Hammie! Your second familiar, Chippy, went to Ryeham. And that's Dolly. She takes care of the Mystical House," said the hamster. 

  A talking hamster seemed entirely normal to him. 

  "I am Magister Merlin?"    

  "You're Magister Merlin Starhawk, a renowned mage known across the world! Everyone knows who you are." The hamster, Hammie, stepped back, her eyes, like two blueberries, looking up at him with much hope. 

  It hit him who he was. Yes, he was a mage, and a good one at that, and his name was Merlin, and Magister was a magely, esteemed title. Starhawk was a surname. 

  With each new trigger, a memory hit him. Hammie and Chippy were his familiars that he created, Hammie a mage, Chippy a knight.  He didn't know how exactly he got them but Merlin had had them for... forever. 

  Dolly had been in the Mystical House for a while, too, and the House itself could move on account of being an enchanted house sitting upon... some creature. 

  "Why does it seem like this has happened before?" Merlin pressed his fingers into his forehead in an attempt to wring the headache out of his skull. 

  "Because it has. We can explain things later- do you need anything? Water, perhaps?" 

Merlin nodded. Dolly scuttered off. 

  Hammie walked to the window, her walk a little funny on account of her small legs. She gasped. Anxiety sparked in Merlin's chest, cold and common; he was anxious often. 

  "There's smoke coming from Ryeham! And you know what they say about smoke," Hammie said. 

  "Where there is smoke there is a fool smoking a pipe inside my house?" Merlin joked, not thinking before speaking. His body didn't feel entirely his. The joke felt oddly personal- someone had done that more than once, but he couldn't remember who. 

  "... You certainly have a way with words, Magister. I'm just glad you're here. But no, where there's smoke, there's fire! Chippy might be there. We should check on him." 

  Merlin rose from his chair and immediately dropped as fuzz overtook his vision and hearing. It sounded like he was underwater. 

  For a moment, his every sense was shut off. Dolly caught him, and he had not felt the impact of hitting the floor, which he certainly had. Pain radiated in his legs.

  "I think I fainted," Merlin muttered. His head was ready to burst from pressure. When he was sitting, the pressure and fuzz ebbed enough for him to be coherent. 

  Deja vu prickled at his fingertips and permeated the air. Everything from the way he fell to the way Hammie rushed to him felt like it had happened before. It left his stomach hollow, saddling him with the strangest sensations he couldn't pinpoint, not in his body or mind.

  "You've had issues with fainting before. It has never been this bad." Hammie tipped her little head up at him.

  Dolly brought water just in time. 

  "Let me get ready, and then we can retrieve Chippy." 

  Merlin stared at his face reflected in the mirror in the bathroom attached to his bedroom. 

  He was gaunt in the cheeks, his face passing for thirty or so, with not many scars or wrinkles. His face had a few off-colored marks. He picked his skin, didn't he? 

  His eyes were yellow like a hawk's. Was that the reason for his name? 

  His eyes were harrowingly tired, the stark black brows above nothing like his silver hair, and his silver hair nothing like his relatively youthful appearance. When pulled and released it it bounced back into a loose curl. Such a texture was bothersome to upkeep and often ended up nest-like. 

  That explained the endless bottles on the wall-mounted shelves and stained bathtub. Alchemical and potion knowledge often translated to chemical knowledge. The number of potions and ingredients in his bathroom would impress any alchemist.

  Not much about himself bothered Merlin. His shorter height, marked as "165" centimeters on the wall (did he leave that in case he forgot?), was advantageous, and his lean build was surprisingly muscular for a mage, acquired from years of carrying the world on his back. 

  And carrying oversized hamsters. 

  The only things besides his magically bound chest that he found disagreeable were his ears, as short as a human's and pointed. He ran a finger along them and down to his three earrings. He could move his ears well. On his forehead were two imperceptible bumps where horns would eventually grow. 

  What was he? Some sort of... 

  Hammie knocked on the door, and he asked her what he was. 

  A treesprite and a human, apparently. He couldn't for the life of him recall his parents despite Hammie's words. It seemed that not all of his memory fell into place so easily.

  Merlin concluded that he was a strange creature in every way possible and impossible. 

  He put on a glamor to hide his ears and horns. He knew that these traits of his must be hidden from others. 

  And while he was on it, he threw in a disguise. Being the most known mage in the world must have meant that everyone would recognize him. 

  That would be a bother, wouldn't it? He put on some actual clothes that weren't the pitiful tunic he woke up in, putting on some robe that was magely enough. 

  He put on his hat, and the final addition to his outfit was to change his eyes to an ocean blue, and his long, grey hair to be short and pink. The two gold bands on his hair didn't want to budge, so he was forced to leave them.

  The only thing of his that remained was his hat and the wiseness in his eyes. 

  Ryeham was gorgeous...

  Except for the putrid smog. 

  Finding a hamster familiar wasn't that hard. He was the only non-human around, the cream plume on his helmet bobbing around like a question mark, begging to be caught by a cat. 

  "Magister Merlin!" He shouted, his mouth falling open. "You're back! I can't believe it!" 

  "Trust me, I am as shocked as you are, Chippy. We're here because of the smoke." Hammie kept up with Merlin easily. Granted, Merlin was walking at the speed of a turtle with a limp.

  "There's a big fire up ahead," Chippy pointed behind himself. The surrounding houses were backlit by orange.

  "We came just in time, then." 

  When they reached the fire, there were troops with stars on their shields. Merlin somehow found that worthwhile to notice. 

  In the center of the group stood a large, familiar man. He had a brunette beard and shortly cropped hair that had begun to grey.

  They were surrounded by fire elementals, and Merlin didn't know how he knew that. That's how it was going to be, nothing was going to make sense to him, all the information that went into him an absurd soup in his brain, sloshing around, whatever was left of his previous memories deep down in that soup.

  What Merlin did know was that he had to help. It was another decision he made without a second thought, leaping into battle by casting a shield on himself and his familiars and raining down stars onto the fire elementals. They sizzled as magic zipped through them. 

  The biggest man yelled "Everyone! Go search for survivors, and leave this to me!" to the troops. Judging by his stature and demeanor, he must've been a commander of some kind. 

  The troops scattered. Merlin's familiars provided much-needed support to him as he was casting spells with mere flourishes of his hand while the soldiers hacked through elementals. 

  There were more throughout the village, but they weren't around long before Merlin snuffed them out. 

  The commander turned to Merlin. 

  "Magister?" he asked, blinking like he was sure he was hallucinating, or seeing a ghost, a possibility with how pale Merlin was. 

  Merlin went stiff.

  "You're back. I wouldn't have recognized you without Chippy or that hat of yours. Where have you been all these years? Ah, you can tell me later. How about you dispel your disguise so I can see my old friend again?"

  Merlin had no idea who this man was, and his warm, welcoming tone and open arms confused the abyss out of Merlin. He pursed his lips in silence. 

  "I regret to inform you that he's forgotten everything like the other times we told you about. He doesn't remember who you are," Chippy said, wiping at his eyes.

  "I have not a clue." Merlin shrugged. The fire was dying down. The screams? Not so much. The village would've been beautiful with its golden fields and cozy houses if not for the ruckus and impending doom.

  "I see, Chippy. That's why you're so surprised to see me. I'm happy to reintroduce myself." The man had kind eyes despite his imposing nature. Merlin didn't like looking people in the eyes, but with him, it wasn't uncomfortable. 

  "I am Hogan, the former leader of the Heroic Order of the Lightbearer Empire and the current magistrate of Holistone." 

  Merlin felt that deja vu upon hearing Holistone . He tried to grab the memory, but it sank quicker than he could reach out. He'd need a stronger trigger to remember what that was. Perhaps a town? 

  "We were friends for years before you disappeared. I hoped one day you'd return. I'd love to chat, but this is no time for idly standing by. Look at these fire elementals." 

  Hogan gestured to the the elementals appearing ahead of them. Merlin frowned.

  "They don't belong in Ryeham. How could they just appear out of nowhere?" 

  "They must have been summoned, perhaps by a mage," Merlin blurted out. 

  "It seems my instincts were right... This fire was no accident." 

  "An accident of this scale would lend itself to something truly improbable. It may be the doing of an arsonist, mage or not," Merlin said. 

  They went ahead, Merlin continuing to put out the fire elementals as they went until they reached the houses where the fire had started. Their tops were blackened and hollow, the fire emanating a suffocating heat, turning half the village into an oven. 

  "It began on the roof," Merlin said to himself. The roofs were hay and wooden. It was easy to start a fire in such a place. 

  The goal of putting out the fire was delayed by a hoard of bandits arriving from the other side. They were all rugged and clad in messily cobbled-together armor, a rushed job, or just a cheap one. 

  They might've thought cornering them into the fire was a good tactic. 

  Yet, their faces grew harrowed when Merlin threw fire at them. 

  Merlin put out the flames that might've spread. There was no chance of the affected homes being saved- they were engulfed in the fire, and so he let them burn.

  More bandits came in from all directions, surrounding the villagers, who were forced to hide behind fences and in the houses they could reach without having a bow and arrow pointed at them. Merlin's heart beat feverishly. 

  The amount of bandits greatly outnumbered the troops. 

  When the fight turned against Merlin, he thought it over. That would be a pitifully foolish end to a life that had essentially just begun. How had he gotten into so much trouble after only coming to? Was it always going to be so? 

  Someone to his left hit a bandit's sword right out of his hand. The person's speed and agility were immaculate, and with them, the fight went quicker and better than expected. 

  Merlin could finally work his magic with finesse and not haphazardly throw fire. 

  Was it an effective tactic? Certainly. But it was like throwing rocks as opposed to shooting arrows. 

  When it was over, and the bandits had retreated in fear of the mage who could envelop them in vines and the swordsman who moved like a shadow, Merlin could see who had fought at his side. 

  The sight was a pleasant surprise.

Part 2- Bad Things Happen in Good Towns (2600 words)

  "Valen! You just got here now?" Hogan snapped. "Were you deep in your cups again?" 

  Merlin would've thanked "Valen" for salvaging the situation if Merlin wasn't stunned and catching his breath as though he had run for his life. Had his body always been so fragile? 

  "That's not fair... I ran into a bunch of fire elementals on my way here. Those guys were really annoying," Valen said. His voice was light, bright, and aloof.

  "Anyway, looks pretty grim here... I didn't expect the fire to be this big. This is not normal, General." He didn't spare Merlin a glance, while Merlin stared at the guy intensely enough to start another fire. 

  He had umber hair with a similar hair texture to Merlin, a dueling scar on his left cheek, and his eyes were lavender purple. The top of Merlin's head reached his shoulders, and Merlin had to tilt his head up to see his face and not his smooth neck, exposed from a white shirt and framed by fur. 

  He did not know this man and felt no familiarity or deja vu towards him; the lack of such feelings was refreshing. He wasn't bad to look at with the red reflecting off the side of his face like a dramatic sunset. 

  The image of a fierce warrior did not particularly match Valen's demeanor, but the muscularity of his arms gave his profession away. 

  "That's right! We think it's arson. The culprit is likely a mage!" Chippy piped up. 

  Valen leaned down to Chippy like one would to a child. 

  "Whoa! A talking hamster. You're a familiar, aren't you?" He smiled, the corners of his mouth not quite lining up. 

  "In that case, this gentleman with the General must be a mage. I've gotta say picking a hamster as your familiar is rather... unique." 

  Merlin did not want to be acknowledged in such a way. He turned his gaze to the man's belt, bristling, detecting a hint of mocking in his tone. Merlin knew the decision to have Hammie and Chippy as his familiars was a personal one. 

  Memory loss and mysteries be damned, Merlin was ready to fight the pretty boy with his bare hands for Chippy and Hammie! Hogan reflected a similar disdain. 

  "I'd normally overlook your banter, Valen. But in front of this Magister, you'd better watch your words." 

  Valen was visibly taken aback. 

  "I've never seen the General so defensive. Well, great Magister, I'm Valen of the Heroic Order. How would you like me to address you?" 

  Merlin desperately searched for something to latch onto as a fake name while avoiding Valen's expectant gaze and perfect face.

  Smog? Devastated villager? Crying child? Glimmerblooms, no! His eyes were caught by a fox painted on one of the villager's houses. 

  "Magister Vulpin," Merlin stammered. He could've chosen a worse name. "Magister Smog" did have a certain ring to it, though.

  "Vulpin... Hm, an interesting name. I'll make sure to remember it." He offered a bow, and Merlin sighed in relief. "Forgive my rudeness earlier. I'll be sure to make it up to you once this fire has been dealt with."

  "Um, no... It's nothing." Merlin shook his head and flushed at his awkwardness. Every word was a tongue twister, and his tongue had become more twisted than a rope.

  The fire, having eaten the two houses, no longer crackled deafeningly, and the smog could begin to lift. The winds would sweep it away soon enough. But first, the winds carried chatter from the other side of the smoldering remains. 

  "Hogan, I shall go see what the hubbub is about, if you do not mind." Merlin folded his now pink hands into his sleeves. He should have worn something lighter. 

  "Go ahead, and take Valen with you. Just in case." 

  Valen's sour face showed he wasn't thrilled at the command.

  Behind the remains of the houses stood a woman with hair the same color as the flames. It reached her ankles. It must be uncomfortable to walk with that cape of hair trailing behind you, I cannot imagine having to take care of it, Merlin thought. 

  Her black dress was graceful, as black as soot, and she stood out from the villagers like Merlin did. She was not from Ryeham. 

  The familiarity that hit Merlin at the sight of her was strong enough to make him collapse. It was sickening.

  "Are you more interested in accusing me of starting the fire than being useful?" the woman with a hat shaped like Merlin's said. She had a star on her chest. She looked a bit like Merlin, and not in the way most mages did.

  Her floral perfume dominated over the charred stench. 

  "I saw ya casting a spell with m'own eyes!" a furious villager shouted. 

  "A spell to quench the fire, my dear. I'm just trying to help. You could be a little more grateful, you know." 

  "The Scarlet Sorceress is as beautiful as her fire is dangerous. That's what the rumors say..." The villager crossed his arms, a woman behind him standing with a pitchfork. As if a pitchfork could defend them against a mage. 

  "I'll take that as a compliment. If this was my fire, you would all be cinders by now." 

  Merlin could listen to her voice all day. Not like he wanted to. With the way she spoke to the villagers, she struck him as blunt and careless. 

  Merlin would never. Probably never, he wasn't quite sure yet. 

  "The Scarlet Sorceress?" Chippy squinted at her. "I've... heard of her!" 

  The sorceress ignored the insults from the villagers, her eyes flicking to Chippy. 

  And then, to Merlin. 

  They both shared a glance that wasn't their first, or even second, and then her eyes moved to his hat. Her gaze was striking along with her face. 

  "You're..." she said, her sky-blue eyes wide and her vermillion lips twisted. "Nevermind. You reminded me of someone. The cards were right, this morning is awful, and I should not have gone out." 

  She turned on her heel and stormed off, bellowing "I'm leaving, don't stop me." 

  A little boy with a stick and a bird on his head stopped her by blocking her way. Merlin debated slinking away while everyone was distracted. He had helped enough, no? The fire was gone... and he could find that knight again some other day.

  "You're not going anywhere, Scarlet Sorceress! All my wares are gone! I demand compensation!" he protested. 

  A fire flickered to life in her hand.

  "Get out of my way, young man. I'm not known for my patience." 

  "Don't you dare try to get away with this! I'll make sure you're held responsi-" 

  The sorceress put a hand to her ear and shushed the boy. 

  "Quiet. Something isn't right. The wind... it's suddenly loud."   

  Merlin knew exactly what she meant. There was a hiss in the air, a hiss that became booming as a whirlwind of a wind elemental formed in the ruins of the house. 

  Merlin didn't envy whoever owned the house. 

  Normal attacks didn't harm the elemental, and the woman's fire only strengthened it. 

  Merlin knew that that was no way to deal with such a creature. So, he began drawing up as much magic as he could to seal the elemental away.

  Amid the sealing spell, he turned to the Sorceress, her eyes even wider than when she first saw him, with a sadness in that blue. With each push of his magic pressure and fuzz built in his head and eyes.

  "Do I... know you?" he asked weakly just as the fuzz overwhelmed his senses, sending him under a blanket of nothingness. 

  He'd taken out himself along with the elemental. He didn't even get to hear the woman respond. 

  He knew that they'd meet again. 

  Merlin screamed at the sight of Valen, not because he was scary, but because waking up in some man's arms was incredibly concerning. He had only met Valen a bit ago. What business did Valen have embracing Merlin?! 

  "Calm down! Calm down! Oh, Dura, I think I'm deaf now," he plugged his ear. Merlin scampered away. 

  He blushed bright red when he realized he had fallen off some bench near a windmill. The grass and surrounding area were ruddy, carrying a fresh, non-smog-filled scent of soil and hay.

  "I... I apologize. You startled me. Where am I?" Merlin stayed on the ground for fear of messing up more than he already had or fainting. Farmers in the fields were already looking at him funny.

  "We're still in Ryeham, I was told to take you here after you fainted. How are you feeling?" 

  His face showed genuine concern. 

  Take him here? Valen carried Merlin here? Oh dear. Those arms of his weren't just for show.

  Merlin got off the ground, dusting himself off. His legs were wobbly as he plopped down next to Valen to not eat some dirt for breakfast. 

  "I am... fine, I suppose. Are you worried?" 

  He raised a full brow. "You defeated that huge wind elemental alone, but you fainted before I could applaud." Merlin huffed a laugh. "Anyone with a heart would worry about you." 

  "You passed out for a while. General Hogan and his men returned to Holistone. He ordered me to stay here and look after you." 

  That Hogan cares about me, huh? I wonder what I did with him in the past. 

  " Before he left, he told me to make sure that when you woke up, your memory was alright. What a strange request... Do you often forget things?" 

  Merlin shrugged. "I do not remember if this has happened before. It possibly has, but I remember everything that just happened. There was that redheaded woman..." 

  "The suspect, Mirael. She's been taken to Holistone for questioning. You're a Magister, so perhaps you've heard of her, or maybe you know her, because she rushed to you when you passed out. She was identified as the culprit by young master Rowan." 

  "Rowan?" Who was that? Ugh, he would have to ask that tens of times in the days to come.

  "That kid with the huge bag and the duck on his head. He's Rowan, the second son of the wealthiest man in the Empire and head of the Mithril Consortium. General Hogan took him for questioning, too." 

   "Do you know Mirael?" Valen leaned on his fist. 

  "Potentially. Possibly. Probably." She sure knew Merlin. And when he asked, he passed out just after. 

  "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're a strange one, Magister Vulpin." 

  Merlin sighed. That was undeniable. Being called a fake name felt strange, but, guess what, familiar.

  Chippy and Hammie had returned from walking circles across the windmill, running up to the Magister and clambering to get up on the bench. Only Hammie managed as Chippy's armor was too heavy. 

  "Magister! You're conscious again." 

  "Chippy checked the village. It's free of bandits and elementals of any kind," Hammie reassured Merlin was a pat on his leg. 

  "The General is waiting for us in Holistone. We should go meet him if you feel better!" Chippy hauled his sword over his shoulder. 

  Merlin hummed to distract from how long it took him to answer. "We can set off now." 

  "There might be enemies on the road, Magister Vulpin. I'll go with you." Valen rose, standing pompously. 

  Merlin decided that he liked Valen. Despite the slightly mocking tone in his voice and that undercurrent of high-society pompousness, the deja vu plaguing Merlin disappeared around Valen, putting the mage at ease. 

  The hamsters reflected that attitude. That was a good omen. 

  "Although, you might not need my protection," Valen tossed his hair, smirking. "If you could handle that thing you can handle a little trouble. I've never seen magic like yours." 

  "Of course! The Magister is the Me-"

  "Yes, yes, thank you, Chippy," Merlin cut him off like an axe. "Even though I am capable, I do faint quite often, and it would be a travesty if I did not have someone to look out for me. Your help would be much appreciated, Sir Valen." 

  Valen's smug expression turned surprised by Merlin's politeness. He offered Merlin a hand, and he took it, getting up carefully. 

  "Do you always talk like that?" Valen asked.

  "Talk like what? I speak rather normally. Do you dislike it, Sir, or is it, perhaps, grating?" Merlin looked up at Valen. He laughed.

  "Nothing. I like it, sounds..." Valen was visibly holding back some comment in fear of offending Merlin, Merlin could tell by the way he pursed his lips and glanced away.

  "... Courtly?" 

  Merlin put his hands on his hips.

  "Are you afraid of me?" 

  Valen groaned. "Of General Hogan. He's never asked me to treat even the stuffiest of nobles so carefully, so I'm rightfully cautious. You must be a big deal." 

  "Do not fret, I do not bite." 

  Valen quirked a brow and flashed a grin. "Really?" 

  A wind picked up, allowing Merlin to divert from the topic. He cleared his throat. 

  "Is it cold, or is it just me?" Merlin hugged himself. 

  "It's not just you, Magister," Valen said as they passed by seemingly endless wheat fields. 

  "It is said that Merlin's ward has long protected Ryeham. It's the only reason that people can actually live here. 

  "But recently, Ryeham's been getting colder. It's almost snowed the past few days. We've come with the Magister to investigate this change in weather," Hammie explained. Valen listened intently. He was keeping his strides shorter to not leave Merlin in the dust. 

  Merlin, the Magister, had not been aware that he was there to investigate anything besides the fire. 

  "My apologies, Miss Hamster, I never got your name."

  "Yes, we should be introduced. You are Valen. I am Hammie." 

  "Are all your familiars hamsters, Magister?"

  Merlin had forgotten that he was part of the conversation. Processing that he had been spoken to, he owlishly turned his head to Valen. 

  "Yes," Merlin said, leaving no room for silly comments. 

  Hammie made the most intimidating face she could manage. 

  "Chippy told me that General Hogan ordered you to protect the Magister. You must know that serving the Magister is an honor,but it's no easy feat. I've got my eye on you. I hope you'll become a competent retainer." Hammie folded her hands skeptically, giving Valen a once-over.

  "Apologies again, but I have to correct you. I'm a knight, not someone's retainer ," Valen said with a hint of offense. "Protecting Magister Vulpin is just my current task. It's not a lifelong post."

  If he kept yapping in the wrong direction his current task might last only a few more moments before he takes a permanent vacation, Merlin thought. 

  "Unless... your Magister is someone like the great Merlin, then I may consider it." 

  Merlin's stomach was light, nearly empty, at the words. He couldn't say anything. Not a peep! Do not tell him who you are, Merlin! Do not fall for the trap! 

  "Did I hear that right? Well, the Magister is... OW!" Chippy flinched in pain. "Why did you step on my foot, Hammie?!" 

  Merlin said everything left unsaid when he side-eyed Chippy.

  "Oh, sorry... I got distracted and didn't see where I was going." Hammie fluttered her eyelashes. 

  "Once you've spent some time together, you'll realize that although the Magister isn't Merlin, he's just as powerful! He's... exactly like Merlin, but he's not," Hammie said, losing steam at the end. 

  Merlin grimaced. "You don't have to flatter me." And nearly give out my identity. I could have done that myself, you know. 

  Valen had already seen a sliver of what Merlin could do. With such displays, Merlin couldn't keep things under wraps for long. 

  "I'll have to wait and see." 

  So, they headed to Holistone, Valen eager to find out more about the mage and warm up from the uncharitable weather, Merlin set on figuring out the fire, restoring his memory, and proving himself to the knight; the hamsters were just happy to have their Magister back. 

  And the rest? The rest is history.

-----

Note: Thank you for reading!

[mushroomwoods]

Holder

he always made sure to cling to even the most useless of things, but somehow, you made it so easy for him to understand that not everything was worth clutching so tightly onto.

character — arven, platonic. hints of nemona and penny.

cw — mild spoiler, a lil angstsy.

had this rotting in my notes for the longest while and god, i am such a fool for this boy, i swear I'd do anything to make him happy.

Arven always seemed to carry way too much.

Just the necessary, he'd argue, yet the way he would longingly stare at the worn out book sometimes told you all you needed to know.

Arven carried so much more than he could ever do, so it was only fair that he had to leave some things behind. Yet, the only plausible option to him, seemed to be cracking pieces and bits of himself, holding onto everything else like it was his lifeline.

The picnic sets, climbing tools, odd trinkets and toys for Mabosstiff, pieces of cloths and ripped pages that were so old they were completely unusable at this point, old pictures that he never allowed you (or himself) to look at, ruined, crumbled papers that seemed to be old letters sent by someone a long, long time ago.

You never questioned him.

You were aware of how much pain it'd bring to Arven, so even when you saw him up at the nights you had to camp out together, keeping only an old flickering lamp by his side, eyes fixated on the photos he seemed to treasure so, to the point were the mark of his fingers were seen on it's yellowed underside, you chose to turn your back to his looming figure, shutting your eyes and hoping the day would come soon, and maybe you could do something to distract him.

You felt helpless, especially at the Area Zero, you wanted to help him, to ask him to stay behind, you could take care of it alone, yet when you looked at his worried eyes, filled with turmoil, you could only go along with his plan.

It felt like that had happened ages agos, yet you were painfully aware it had only been a year now. It felt unreal, yet the scars every one of you carried in your hearts were all to real to have only been a dream.

Your fingertips brushed against the shiny coat of the photo in your hand. Arven had made sure to make a physical copy of it, when he saw how much you liked it.

He made a copy of every one of them, the one's you had with him, the ones with the star team, penny and even with nemona, even if the last one was made begrudgingly.

You leaned against the tall tree, your Hydrapple and Meowscarada playing in the far fields, just in your line of sight.

You closed your eyes, seemingly for seconds, before steps approached you, the crispy grass crunching under it's feet.

“Tired still, little buddy?” The familiar nickname made you open your bleary eyes, sunray shining through the leaves filtering out the face of the person who stood beside you.

He soon sat by your side, your pokemon quickly gathering around him as if awaiting for any snack he might have in hand.

Arven laughed as Meowscarada flopped against him in a theatrical manner, your Hydrapple much kinder, brushing one of its head against his arm, the others too entertained by Mabosstiff who had just gotten out of it's pokeball.

“Hm, ” your answer wasn't positive neither negative, “was just reminiscing a bit.” You chewed on your lips, as his eyes followed your eyes down to the photos.

Many of them, cluttered together, yet the one at the top was of the four teens.

Nemona typical wide grin, as her arm slung over Penny, which offered one rare, genuine grin, while also having her arm linked with you, who tugged Arven down, the both of you laughing, despite his failed try at frowning at your antics.

“You still have this one?” He muttered, after carefully setting his backpack aside.

You slid the next photo, a candid you took of Arven obnoxiously bragging about his sandwiches when Nemona dared to doubt his cooking skill, from the corner of you eye, you could see the boy frowning.

You slid to the next one, both you and Arven sleeping, using the other as support in the midst of Hassel's class, your faces painted with silly doodles – Penny's idea, wholeheartedly supported by the professor himself. This time you heard a bit of incoherent grumbling.

You skipped to the next, a Kitakami one.

You and the local siblings sat around a picnic table, what he recognized as the weird dragon boy jacket and cape strew in one of the seats beside you.

Carmine was too busy feeding you a piece of apple she peeled and cut herself, to worry about her brother keeping you in a grip vice enough to suffocate you, completely unbothered by the dirty look he sent her way.

This time he laughed a bit.

Your fingers stopped on its track, as you looked back at him.

“Still remember this one?” You asked, sully. At this he laughed harder.

“How could I forget, when i was the photographer and saw the scene first hand?” It was your time to grumble. “Oh wait, I think I still have the other one.”

As he tried to open his bag and fish for the photo, it flopped down, letting all the items run freely down the hill as they pleaded for a little more space to be kept in.

You laughed at his desperation, quickly getting

up to help him retrieve them, while he still sat beside it, trying to close it and failing at making the bag stand upright.

After he finally got it, he turned to help you, yet stood in awe as you cheerfully tried to grab a few pokeballs, ultimately falling down and rolling down along with it.

He stood up urgently to help you, yet as you reached the small stream flowing down the mountains you perked up, all of the items packed up in the pocket you made with the hem of your hoodie.

He huffed a laugh in disbelief, wondering how you could even do this without a single care.

As you both gathered back onto the picnicking spot, he sorted through the items, forgetting what he was even trying to find.

“Hey,” you called, his eyes following your voice shortly after. “Maybe... I kinda ruined your pic...”

He finally looked at your hand, apparently a pokeball, yet something sticking to it and adhering to it's shape stood out.

Arven took the item from you hand, inspecting it closely. The plastic film of the photo had washed away, now standing only as a blurred image of what it was. You fallen to the floor, the Kitakami boy right beside you as he still clutched to your uniform, sitting on the floor as your Meowscarada tried to pry the boy away from you, both him and the pokemon yelling away.

The hiker laughed.

“Good thing I still have it saved on my phone.” He barely said, peeling the photo away as it crumbled to the floor, now only a bunch of wet, indistinguishable paper.

He somehow wondered how you could do this, changing his views so easily, with things he was sure they didn't even mean nothing to you.

Even as he let his backpack fill with more and more imbecile items, you made sure to follow right behind, picking any part of himself that he may have let go in the midst of everything.

At the next week you were surprised by his bag having halved in weight.

“Woah, don't tell me you finally threw away all that useless stuff!” Nemona, ever the principle of consideration in her choice of words, said.

“No way, seriously!?” Penny followed along, though her voice was quiet enough to not attract as much attention.

“Of course not!” At his answer, you eyed him curiously. “I just left most of it at the lab.”

He watched as you startled, before your eyes softened, wondering if something had happened.

“You know, as much as i hate to admit, most of it where stuff i wouldn't ever use in a journey and since i had a perfect place to let them at... why not?” He reasoned, though it seemed more like a plead for reassurance and him trying to convince himself.

“I mean, it was an amazingly cozy place, though a bit cramped.” You agreed, before lighting again with an idea. “Hey! Why don't we go there this weekend and do the place an overhaul to look just like you. We could send the research material to Clive, so he'll know whether to put it to the public or not, as for the machinery, me and Penny could try do a bit of an look over so it can be used casually.”

The girls eyes you both curiously and Arven, though seeming bothered by the idea at first, was quick to agree when he saw how hyped the three of you seemed with it.

“My little buddy never fails to amaze me with a new plan, huh.” He sighed with a smile, ruffling his own hair. “Alright then, that's a plan!”