#and as you may have guessed i like bears a lot

[cassandragemini]

butch lesbian bear romance

[pochapal]

i have sicknesses and diseases again

[underthehedge]

Holmes also canonically played the violin, which...look do you know how many ADHD people have at least tried to learn that? Because it's a really weirdly high number. One of my more popular posts was about the time I ADHD impulse bought a violin and a friend, also with ADHD relayed that they did the same. And boy oh boy were the notes full of people with ADHD talking about impulse purchasing musical instruments...mainly violins.

Like, the violin isn't a symptom of ADHD but it sure seems popular with it.

“lol Arthur Conan Doyle clearly didn’t know anything about drugs. Sherlock Holmes did cocaine but it calmed him down. That’s not how cocaine works!”

There are two options: Arthur Conan Doyle had never met someone addicted to cocaine or he met some with ADHD who was addicted to cocaine

[frog-songs]

in the walls of your heart, these words are carved: look forward, child, forward. in the spread of your lungs, in the whirl of your breath, sung, whispered, said: keep trying— again. again, again, again. in the red of your blood, the marrow of your bones, there is something that intones holy, holy, holy is this temple, even trampled, even fallen, even calling for that devil waiting outside. it rings, rings, rings, this thing in your chest, your head; in the dark, in your bed there is something that reaches something that teaches something that wants in this vaunted home, this roaming, haunting thing; it creeps and slithers; it will wither one day, fade, and die.

alive, alive, alive. cry it sigh it scream this heavy truth: you are living, even now. the question i suppose is how?

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

NEXT ->

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[coralinnii]

"Eyes are Windows to the Soul"

↳ Admiring your Dark Brown eyes

feat: Idia ❋ Sebek ❋ Kalim ❋ Trey genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used for reader, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),

Idia grew up sheltered in a sterile world, filled with LED lights and sleek metal walls. Shades of brown were not common in his daily routine, so he didn’t have a lot of opinions on it. 

In a world of neon blue and cold silver, your brown eyes ironically stood out in Idia’s world. 

Your eyes remind him of fluffy brown kittens, filled with warmth and mischief. You remind him of those adorable teddy bear prizes in claw machines that everyone covets. You were everything he dreams of holding, but often out of reach.

That is until the two of you grew closer, then he sees your eyes in the ice-cold colas he’s chugging during long grinding sessions with you. He feels a tingling sensation when he sees your eyes in the dry autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet whenever you drag him out to “touch some grass” 

Your brown eyes remind him of everything fluffy and warm, of fuzzy feelings and snugness. 

Your eyes give off energy, but it’s not scary or overwhelming at all. Rather, it’s soft and enjoyable like a refreshing drink on a hot day.

You seem so out of place in his old world, but Idia couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore.

”Uggh, that cat is just too cute, what a sensory overload! Huh, when did brown cats become my fav? I-I guess kinda recently?”

Sebek holds himself with prestige and integrity, a well-kept man with honor to uphold. 

But his experience is filled with the great wilderness, with the natural and unbending beauty of the forest. He proudly recalls his childhood living close to the world of fae and nature. 

You were a human. Your upbringing was nothing like his own, a pair of opposites with nothing in common

But, when you look at him with your sweet brown eyes, Sebek sometimes feels lost in nostalgia. In your eyes, he sees the beautiful trees of his homeland, he sees his beloved worn-out books in his bookshelves passed down by his grandfather. 

Not only his childhood memories, Sebek feels the same feeling of familiarity in his current lifestyle. He’s reminded of the joy and excitement he feels when he trusts his whole self to the majestic brown horses in the campus wooden stables. 

Is it because just like his trusted steed, your warm brown eyes effortlessly shine with so much strength?

Lost in your eyes, he recalls feelings of comfort and home, a connection to what makes Sebek…himself. Though he may not admit it, the stubborn young man finds solace just by staring into your eyes.

"Do I ever feel homesick? Of course I do! I simply… haven’t been feeling all that distant from my homeland as of late”

Kalim is not only surrounded by shades of brown, but also reds, yellows, greens, and everything else in the large spectrum of color. His world is bright and vibrant, never a dull moment for the boisterous heir. 

You fit right into his life, adding more happiness to his routine. Your existence gave off a sense of wholesome, sweet fun. You join him in his highs yet keep him grounded when he flies too close to the Sun

To anyone else, Kalim lacks nothing in terms of riches. He is financially blessed for generations to come, and Kalim is not ignorant enough to deny otherwise. 

But lately, whenever he watches you, he ponders on what the word “rich” truly meant to him. 

Some would call your brown eyes pretty but rather plain, but regardless Kalim would catch himself swimming in the hue of your irises. 

In your eyes, he sees the deep color of expensive cognac that many would gift his parents, he sees the color of flawless leather prized by countless merchants, and he sees the color of fertile soil that nurtures and feeds his country. 

If someone were to ask his opinion, Kalim would say that richness and pricelessness could be defined by your eyes. Kalim may have an abundance of gold and silver but there is no price that could compare to the look of pure love in your exquisite eyes.

"Have you ever seen a chocolate diamond before? They’re really pretty with a wonderful shine. I really like them, I’ll show you one someday!”

While he isn’t against dabbling in certain subjects and interests, Trey has a pretty solid idea of his future, to become a patissier and to either inherit his family's bakery or start his own business. 

Trey doesn’t see himself as anyone extravagant nor does he really want to be. Sure, he may be in a prestigious school, and he may hold an enviable position as a vice-Housewarden, but the green-haired senior holds himself more modestly. 

You knew well of his humble dream, and he appreciated the way you would support him however you can, be it a taste tester for new recipes or assisting him in the kitchen before a busy unbirthday party. 

In this close proximity, Trey is allowed more chances to glance your way, especially your eyes. 

He sees the resemblance in your eyes the color of the chestnuts you collected with the mischievous freshmen, the first day he noticed how cute you were. He’s reminded of warm brownies and cookies he would bake in secret just for you, all to see those very eyes sparkle. He imagines a brick house in the same shade as your eyes, where he’ll live out his peaceful life with you.

In your warm brown eyes, he feels reassurance and security. Trey doesn’t need a lavish lifestyle or a grand plan. All he could wish for is a life where he could bake cakes and pay taxes with you.

“I’m not exactly the most romantic with words, but I do like your eyes. They remind me of…my oven. Ah, that sounded a bit…” 

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖻𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 𝗆𝖾𝗇 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍

the couch is comfy, the lights are low, and you've just started this week's episode of the great british bake off. simon sits beside you, eyes half-focused on his phone, thumb scrolling. your feet rest on his lap, his free hand absently tracing circles on your ankle. he seems entirely uninterested, barely looking up at the screen as you comment on the contestants’ desserts.

for the first twenty minutes, he’s quiet, only glancing up occasionally, but then someone messes up their cake, and he lets out a low snort. he mutters, "did they not put it in long enough or what?"

it’s a small crack, but it’s enough to make you smile. "guess they didn't. timing is everything, right?" you tease, knowing full well he’s starting to pay attention.

in the next challenge, a contestant fumbles with a piping bag, and simon lets out an unimpressed tsk, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “how can they not know how to pipe a line straight?” he scoffs. "basic stuff."

you laugh. "i didn’t know you were such an expert."

he grumbles, still keeping his eye on the show, now feigning casual disinterest but failing miserably. as the episode progresses, he starts asking more questions, wanting to know the contestants’ names, who’s been there longest, and who has been star baker.

when the star baker is announced, he nods his head in approval, as if he saw it coming all along. he shifts his gaze to you, smirking at your amused expression.

“see? knew they had it in ‘em,” he murmurs, squeezing your ankle gently.

you raise an eyebrow, playing along. “so you’re an expert now?”

instead of answering, he leans over, his hand still wrapped around your ankle, to presses a kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you can’t help but laugh as he nuzzles closer, his tone dropping to a playful murmur. “might have to make you something better than all that… if you’re lucky.”

his lips linger, making you laugh again, your fingers brushing his jaw. simon may be a fierce critic, but at this moment, he’s more than content to just savor this quiet time with you.

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉

from the second the episode starts, johnny's practically buzzing beside you. he’s been all in on the great british bake off since day one, and tonight is no exception. every time his favorite contestant, a sweet scottish lady with a knack for old-school recipes, appears on screen, he perks up, practically bouncing on the edge of his seat.

when she starts her bake, he mutters words of encouragement under his breath. "c'mon, hen, show 'em what a real baker looks like." and when one of her rivals stumbles, he grins, clapping his hands together. “ach, my nan could beat the lot of them in her sleep! they’ve got nothin’ on her shortbread.”

as the judging rounds begin, his excitement ramps up. his favorite contestant gets a compliment, and he yells, clapping loud enough to startle you. “there ye go, lass!” he hollers, and suddenly, he’s grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you in glee. “did ye see that, luv? she’s bloody brilliant!”

by the time they’re announcing the star baker of the week, johnny is practically holding his breath, eyes glued to the screen. when they call her name, he jumps up with a whoop, fists pumping in the air. “yes! that’s it!”

before you know it, he’s pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off the couch in his excitement. he plants a big, wet kiss on your lips, grinning so wide it’s infectious. “didn’t I tell ye? she’s got it all—best baker in the lot, no question.”

you laugh as he sets you down, his enthusiasm contagious. johnny love for the show might be loud and over-the-top, but as he flops back onto the couch, arm still around your shoulders, you can’t help but smile at just how much he’s gotten you invested, too.

── .✦ 𝗀𝖺𝗓

at first, kyle watches the program with an easy, relaxed attitude, barely reacting when the contestants present their bakes. he stretches out, arms resting behind you and smoothing down and up your nape, all while nodding along when you explain the technical challenge, giving little more than a shrug in response.

but as the episode goes on, his interest starts to show. he sits up a bit, leaning in every time the camera shows off a new dessert. when a contestant presents a towering lemon drizzle cake, his eyes light up. “could you make that?” he asks, an excited glimmer sneaking into his voice. “i’ll buy the ingredients and clean everything up, promise.”

you snort, but he’s already pointing at the screen, his tone downright eager. “what about those cinnamon rolls? look at the icing on those.” he’s watching you now with a hopeful smile, like he’s a kid at a bakery window. “come on, love, just think of the smell. i’ll even be your sous chef—whatever you need.”

by the time they’re onto the show-stopper, kyle is all in, leaning forward as contestants knead and roll their creations. every new bake has him asking if it’s something you can try: sourdough, brioche, even the elaborate pastries. “we could have a whole buffet,” he says, only half-joking. “imagine—warm, fresh pastries every day. i’d never go back to store-bought again.”

when the episode finally ends, he’s scrolling through a recipe app on his phone, jotting down a list of things he’s ready to buy. “alright, love,” he says, grinning as he gives you a playful nudge, “you bring the talent, I’ll bring the supplies. deal?”

with his enthusiasm—and his promises to handle cleanup—there’s no way you can resist, especially when he’s looking at you like you’re the star baker of the night.

── .✦ 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾

you’ve just settled into a new episode of the great british bake off when john wanders into the room, curious but clearly trying not to look too invested. he stands right in front of the tv, thick arms folded across his chest, watching with a thoughtful frown as contestants start their signature bakes.

you chuckle, leaning forward to get his attention. “love, if you’re gonna watch, at least come sit down. i can’t see a thing.”

he raises a brow, glancing over his shoulder with a little smirk, but he doesn’t move. so, grinning, you reach over and give him a playful smack on the butt with one of the pillows, laughing as he finally grumbles and takes a seat next to you. he watches intently, nodding every so often and making small, approving sounds whenever someone does a particularly good job.

it’s not long before he’s making comments that surprise you with their accuracy. “you know, the rise on that dough’s spot-on. smart move not to rush the proofing,” he says, as if he were one of the judges himself. when a contestant uses too much sugar in a caramel glaze, he clicks his tongue in mild disapproval. “that’ll be sickly. just needs a touch less.”

you blink, impressed, and maybe just a little bit...turned on. “you know a lot about baking, captain.”

he shrugs, scratching his beard with a faint smile on his lips. “just some bits i've picked up,” he says, casual as ever, though you can tell he’s enjoying himself. then, after another thoughtful hum as he watches a contestant start their showstopper, he glances at you. “could give it a go myself, if you want. just say the word.”

you beam, practically bouncing as you loop your arms around his neck “yes! let’s do it!”

he chuckles at your enthusiasm, his hand squeezing your hip gently. “alright then,” he says, a bit amused, a bit serious, “but you’ll have to help out, and no slapping my cake when i’m concentrating.”

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[u5an5]

Just watched Deadpool & Wolverine with polish subs based on dub and I have to be honest, there's much more funny stuff than I expected, considering that the rest of it made me glad I'm not watching it with actual dub

So, things that picked my interest:

Instead "207 when I watch Gossip Girl" he straight up says "207 when I watch porn" (Gossip Girl isn't especialy popular show here so reference wouldn't mean anything for majority of audience anyway, but to straight up say it instead replacing it?)

"Ok peanut, 'guess we're getting that team-up after all" got replaced with "Okej ptysiu, nie ma to jak seks grupowy", which translates to "Okay cutiepie, nothing better than group sex" (??? we're still in the first 5 minutes of the movie)

"you know what they say, when one door closes, your locker at work opens" translated to "Jak to mówią… Jak zamykają od przodu, to ładujesz się od tyłu" which translates roughly to "Like they say... when they close the front, you get in the behind" which I find kinda funny

Peters line about seeing Wade in suit comes of gayish cause he doesn't say he wants to see him in the suit again, he wants to LOOK at him in it again, you know what I mean

intead "This guy looks ready to throw it all away for me" he says "This cutie would gladly get hugged by my bowels" which is a lot more straightforward than I expected

Wades spiel to comic acurate height Wolverine is much more insulting and instead being all "what a cwute short king you awe" translates to "Oh fuck, a furball dwarf? Was there even dwarf like that? Furballs mommy drank lots of booze when she was pregnant? Maybe daddy was a ratferret? Don't even come near me, 'cause you surely have ticks"

"I need you to come with me, right now" to "Zapraszam cię na randke, i to natychmiast" meaning "I invite you to a date, and I mean right now" (Logan replies with "Złotko, nie kręci mnie to" which translates to "Sweetie, I'm not diggin' it" and by "it" I'm honestly not sure if he means Wade himself, the fact that Wade said he's only here because he's the Wolverine just a second ago, or because his suit looks like fetish gear)

"It's quite common to Wolverines after 40" to "It's normal when going trough menopause, I get it"

they replaced "peanut" to different endearments to not be repetive but the most often used one is "ptysiu" (ptyś is a choux pastry; if I had to translate it as english endearment, I'd go with cutiepie). its cute imo

Logans "bub" also got replaced by endearments/insults losely fitting situation but the stupidest one has to be Logan calling Johnny "misiu", which translates to "little bear" and let me tell you, it's HILARIOUS cause it's equvalent of calling a random guy "sweetie" but in the "your grandma asking if you want seconds (yes you do, no you don't have any say)" way

"my boy's wicked strong" is translated to "mój chłopak zna się na rzeczy". It's slightly like the papi situation from spanish dub cause yes, "chłopak"'s direct translation is often "boyfriend" but it is also used as "boy", "guy" or "dude", usualy towards guys younger/about the same age as you. However, the addition of "mój"/"mine, my" makes it much more angled towards boyfriend, wherever they wanted to or not. There are at least three different ways to translate it and make it less gae I know and the've still chosen this one.

They made, in my opinion, the "its a common curtesy to ask" "Its good thing I don't give a fuck" lines better by translating them to "you shoud've ask, thats polite thing to do" "and you can politely fuck off"

they replaced Star Trek reference with Star Wars one, using Han Solo instead Spock and idk. on one hand they did it to THE spirk moment but on the other they made, and I may be reaching, but it seems like covert reference to "I know" scene so ??? (star trek is nowewhere near as known as star wars here so they would probs replace it either way but it also can be just "star trek and star wars sound so much alike, they have to be basically the same, right?" haha joke)

them instead innuendos using the most over the top forms of insult that no one ever heard is kinda funny but only because I only had to read them; if I ever heard somone call somebody "kutasina" irl I would find a way for at least one of us to not be able to hear anything ever again ("cockleter" is my best attempt to recreate this horseshit)

If you guys want to share some treasures from your native dubs/subs, feel free to

[moonsaver]

Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;

He's manipulative, obviously.

But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.

So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.

Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.

However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.

Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.

A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.

Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)

Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.

You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.

You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.

The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.

Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.

And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.

The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.

Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..

Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..

Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..

Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?

Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?

Oh...ogh. . My heart.

Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.

I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy

Particularly because it seems so healthy

If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.

I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.

I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.

Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.

His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.

Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"

Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.

Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy

So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.

[the-irreverend]

The Inferno Theory: The Chara Theory to End All Chara Theories

Here we are! Nine years of Undertale. And seeing how Chara is heavily associated with the number 9 (AND THAT TOBY FOX FINALLY TALKED ABOUT THEM), I can't think of a better way to celebrate the occasion than by dedicating this 5000-word-long theory about them? Y'all remember when people used to make long-ass theories about Chara? Yeah, they're coming back with a vengeance! To say I have a colossal hyperfixation is a massive understatement. No character in all of fiction has had a bigger impact on my life than this little rose-cheeked, cocoa-addicted freak. I’ve been a Chara fan for as long as I’ve been an Undertale fan, and you can bet that my understanding of them has changed a lot since. And now I have the pleasure of sharing said understandings with y’all!

Once upon a time, there was an aroace autistic who, like most of y’all, had a very unhealthy obsession with Undertale. And unlike most of you, he thought the Genocide Route was really fun. Most fans talk about how unhappy they felt killing everyone, but for me, I felt like a polar bear at a baby harp seal convention. I got a disturbing level of happiness out of turning everyone to dust. Hell, the only unhappiness I felt was when I couldn’t turn Monster Kid to dust.

Oh well, at least I got a good consolation prize!

I was one sadistic son of a gun, and so I was even more delighted to find out I had a secret admirer/partner-in-crime and that they joined in on the fun because I was such a goshdarn inspiration to them. Not wishing to disappoint my self-appointed partner, I erased the world without a second thought, eagerly awaiting what we might get to do together.

So you can guess I was pretty taken aback when, instead of a warm welcome, they started lecturing me about how I couldn’t accept the world’s destruction and that I was the one fully responsible for it (even though they were eager to take credit for it earlier). I didn’t think much of it at first. Initially, I just thought that they were just irritated that I was undoing what we had worked so hard to accomplish.

But as this game taught me time after time, you should never trust your first impressions. Those first impressions would crumble to dust when they said this.

To say I was completely baffled is an understatement. Why the hell would this prepubescent genocidal maniac be so obsessed over whether or not I think I’m above consequences? So obsessed to the point they would tell me to go to hell if I told them no? It was at that moment I realized there was something more to this character than meets the eye. But for a long time, I couldn’t seem to figure out what that something was. And it didn’t seem like anyone could figure that out either.

I’m very much a veteran of the fan wars that have emerged surrounding Chara. In fact, one might even say I am a deserter of sorts, as I am a former member of the Chara Defence Squad, Offense Squad, and Neutralist Squad. But I’m not gonna be a stuck-up and say everyone’s a canon-ignoring idiot except for me and that I’m the only one who knows what Toby Fox intended Chara to be. Even though I ended up with a very different take than yours (and will certainly argue why it’s the best), I owe you all your discussions a huge debt, and I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten invested in your interpretations, to begin with. Not to mention that, contrary to what some may argue, you’ve made some valid points to complement them.

And while the debate that resulted from Chara’s ambiguous morality has led to a lot of controversy and even toxicity, it has also been a source of some FANTASTIC CONTENT. Like seriously, would we have gotten those badass renditions of Stronger Than You if no one thought Chara was an awful person? Would we have gotten Man on the Internet’s beautiful rendition of Star if no one thought Chara was a good person (turned awful)?

It would be utter hypocrisy for me to ask of you to approach me and my arguments (or anyone who accepts them) with understanding and good faith only to then not do the same to anyone who doesn’t agree with me. In this theory, I will definitely argue why some points made about Chara are flawed; points that you might hold yourself. But that doesn’t automatically mean that you (or your takes) are intellectually or morally inferior to mine. And besides, I’m not Toby Fox.

So with that said, why did I eventually came to disagree with pretty much everyone about Chara? Because, one way or another, I couldn’t find a take that clicked with me personally as I felt there were various inconsistencies and issues holding them back. I looked at YouTube videos, subreddits, Tumblr essays, Twitter threads, and even forums on the Steam Community. But I couldn’t really find what I thought were satisfactory answers to the questions I had about Chara’s motivations, role in the game, and relationship with the player.

And then, one day, I found those answers. It all happened when I asked myself: ��What if Chara didn’t turn against me… because they were always against me from the start?!”

I don’t mean that Chara only saw you as a means to an end. I mean that YOU were the end. What if Chara didn’t use you so they could screw over the monsters but they used the monsters so they could screw over YOU.

You probably think I’m insane, don’t you? And you’re right! I AM INSANE! AND SO IS THIS WHOLE DAMN THEORY!!! But somehow, someway, it just works!! And I’ll show you why and how!!!

What you are about to read is the culmination of six years of reading and critiquing Chara takes and theories of every kind and quality, whether it be Judgement Boy’s Who is the Real Villain of Undertale to Wandydoodles’ Oblivion Theory. Six years of examining the arguments and counterarguments of Chara defenders, offenders, and neutralists alike. Six years of looking in every corner of the UTDR fandom. From the tranquil lands of Quora. To the dark recesses of Reddit. To the intellectual wastelands of Twitter. To the fiery hellsite of Tumblr. So, without further ado, get ready for some of the most pure, unadulterated, high-octane, universe-collapsing neurodivergence you’ve ever seen in your life!!!!!

Part 1: The demonic heritage of the "demon who comes when people call its name".

Have you ever had one of those moments where you’ve asked yourself, “What the actual hell is this guy talking about?” I bet you’re having that moment right now. Everything about their character post-death, including their motives, their methods, and their relationship with you, is perfectly reflected in one of their most famous (or rather infamous) lines:

When most people hear the word demon, the first thing that comes to mind is a being made of pure evil whose only purpose in life is to destroy all things good in the world. Right?

Well, yes, but actually, no. It’s a little more complicated than that. To argue that Chara is a demon because they’re simply “an evil little twerp that enjoys being evil” doesn’t do them or their role in Undertale justice (although that hasn’t stopped people from trying to argue that). To understand why calling themselves a demon is EXTREMELY important, we need to dive into the wonderful (and totally not controversial) world of religious beliefs!

In ancient and modern religions, demons are a little more complex than just ethereal jackasses with a vendetta against virtue and righteousness. Though they vary from faith to faith, most demons have a specific set of qualities and tropes that make them integral to whatever faith they’re in. You also see these demonic qualities in fiction that’s derived or inspired by religions, and since Undertale’s lore and worldbuilding have a heavy emphasis on the spiritual and divine, you can see them in Chara. Since Undertale is a game of “Western” origin, you can definitely see they share qualities that are all too familiar with devils of “Western” religions. In classic devil fashion, they target those with weak integrities or suspect morals; they tempt you with the promise of fulfilling your desires at your and everyone else’s expense; they’re able to control your body as you grow their power through your sins, and hell, they even do the thing where they make a deal for your soul. Also...

But though it's evident that Chara encourages you to do “evil,” THEY THEMSELVES are not responsible for it. Yes, Chara encouraged you to kill, but YOU are the one who acted on those encouragements. In fact, YOU are the one who encouraged THEM to help you out! They walked down the dark path with you, but you didn’t really give them anywhere else they could walk. You had all the power and every chance to turn back and no reason to keep walking. And yet you persisted.

But that does beg the question, why did you walk it at all? What could possibly inspire you to give all of these characters happiness, satisfaction, and peace and then rip it all away? Because you decided that giving everyone the most satisfying ending was not satisfying enough for you. Because there was more that you could experience for yourself, even if it meant making everyone else experience something absolutely horrific. It wasn’t enough for you to fill the glass only halfway. You needed to fill it to the brim. You wanted to reach the absolute. Even if doing the Genocide Run was a bad experience for you, you CANNOT deny it was a fulfilling one. And Chara knows it, too. It ain’t exactly a coincidence that fulfillment and fullness are recurring motifs in Chara’s character.

Like all demons, Chara is able to tempt the wicked and sinful by targeting our greatest weaknesses and deficiencies. It’s no different from how Succubi and Incubi target those who succumb to the sin of lust. That’s why you won’t go after my aroace ass anytime soon. But I digress.

But Chara doesn't just tempt us by exploiting our need to fill the glass to the brim but also because of how they exploit the satisfaction we get from watching it fill up, that is to say, the satisfaction that comes from trying to achieve fulfillment.

We humans are addicted to progression as much as we are to completion, and in an RPG like Undertale, the satisfaction of progression comes in the form of NUMBERS. Not just the numbers that flash on the screen when you battle enemies but also the ones that go up when you finish said enemies off, whether it be your hit points, experience points, and so on. And Undertale isn’t any ordinary RPG; it’s one where its RPG elements are interwoven into the fabric of the game’s universe. Because of that, Chara is able to use these elements in their world to influence those outside of it.

But Chara does not just influence us through the numbers that increase but also the ones that decrease. That’s why the first thing they do when we reach Snowdin is give us a tally. 

It’s not just there to measure progress. It’s also there to incentivize us to keep progressing. It gives us a small dose of satisfaction that’s enough to distract us from the mundanity and misery of the murder run, like a loading bar on a loading screen. And just like with loading screens, the farther it progresses, the harder it gets to turn away. Why would you want all the lives you’ve taken and the stats you’ve gained to amount to nothing? Why would you want to hit reset and go through those brutal fights with Sans and Undyne again? You can’t empty out the glass, not when you’re that much closer to filling it to the brim. Speaking of Sans and Undyne, it’s quite interesting that even though they barely know you, they know exactly why you won’t take your foot off the pedal, so to speak.

But that’s not the only thing driving you, isn’t it? Chara knows that there was something else that was spurning you along. Something more powerful and more dangerous than your addiction to progression and completion: PRIDE. 

Perhaps the real reason you kept giving in to sin until it was far too late was because you didn’t think it would be too late. You didn’t hold back because you thought you would be able to go back. You thought you could just absolve your sins with the press of a button like you did in countless worlds before. You thought you could dive in, touch the bottom, and come back out of the water. But what were you getting into? How deep would you have gone? And would you have gone in if you knew you couldn’t possibly return? You know you wouldn’t. And Chara knows it, too. That brings us back to the dialogue I showed you at the beginning of this theory. The one said changed everything I knew about this character, and I firmly believe that this is the MOST important line of dialogue in the entire franchise.

PART 2: THE PART WHERE I (PRETEND TO) DESTROY 9 YEARS OF ESTABLISHED FANON!

When I say that that little blurb about being above consequences is ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL, I do not say that lightly. It isn’t just important to Chara's character, but the game of Undertale as a whole! Anyone who’s serious about Chara’s character should never take this for granted because Chara sure as hell does not.

It’s not just our refusal to accept the world’s destruction that’s a huge-ass deal to Chara; it’s the arrogance and complacency that accompanies it, rooted in the position and privileges we have as the player. It matters to them so much that they’re willing to completely forgo bartering for our soul (which they say they want) if we don’t admit that we have that belief!

And yet, despite Chara taking this subject so seriously, the people who are analyzing their character ironically don’t. Generally speaking, most people simply brush this line off as nothing more than something they do to help them on their quest to achieve their goals. So, with that said, let’s talk about what those supposed goals actually are.

In all my years of reading and assessing countless Chara theories and interpretations, I’ve discovered that everyone actually agrees on what Chara's goals are. They just can’t agree on why they want them. Said goals are A) reach the absolute, B) max out their numbers/power, C) erase the world, and/or D) eradicate all monsters. But what if it’s actually the other way around? What if those things were the means to an end rather than the ends themselves?

What if the true goal of the “demon who comes when people call its name” was just like that of the demons of old: not to be your partner in crime, but to torment and punish you for your crimes? To make you face CONSEQUENCES!

I’m not making this argument simply because it makes Chara look more badass (though I think it totally does, lol). I firmly believe that Undertale’s post-Genocide content is written so that Chara’s character can only make sense if that was Chara’s goal from start to finish. Because if Chara’s endgame was any of those four I mentioned earlier, their character kinda falls apart because they're awfully inconsistent about fulfilling them. And those inconsistencies are evident in the Second Geno Ending.

Discrepancy 1) They say they will “appear time and time again” to help us “eradicate the enemy and become strong,” and yet they call us perverted for eradicating everyone time and time again.

You can argue that they didn’t want us to recreate the world in the first place and just move on to another world, but if so, why let us come back at all? And if it’s to get our soul, why do they keep around this world after we have it? This leads us to...

Discrepancy 2) They tell us to ERASE the world and move on to the next, and yet they allow us to restore it without a hitch after we give them our SOUL, seeing how there’s no black void when we start the game again.

If Chara was powerless to stop us from coming back, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But they CLEARLY DEMONSTRATE that they’re able to stop the player from restoring the world, as seen in the first post-genocide ending. And yet they don’t use this power after the first time the world is erased (WHICH YOU WOULD THINK THEY WOULD WANT TO USE SINCE THEY WANT TO ERASE THE WORLD AND MOVE ON TO ANOTHER)! Seeing how the world is back again without us doing anything makes the restoration of the world like something that Chara CHOSE ON THEIR OWN VOLITION. And what makes this all the more damning is...

Discrepancy 3) They tell us they’re down bad for increasing our ATK, DEF, EXP, and LV to the max and erasing the world and everyone in it, and yet they TELL US TO DEVIATE FROM THE ONLY ROUTE THAT ACCOMPLISHES THAT (which, as stated before, they call us perverse for doing it again).

So, let me get something straight. You tell us you want to ”eradicate the enemy” and “ erase this pointless world,” and yet not only are you allowing us to undo all of that, you want us to do something INSTEAD OF THAT??? It’s funny how you lecture us about how we cannot accept the world’s destruction BECAUSE, APPARENTLY, YOU WON’T EITHER!!!!! Also, before I forget...

Discrepancy 4)

WHAT KIND OF MISANTHROPE DEDICATES THEIR WHOLE LIFE TO WIPING OUT HUMANITY, GETS GIFT-WRAPPED A CHANCE TO DO THAT, AND THEN JUST PASSES IT UP?!?!?!

On behalf of misanthropes everywhere, I am DEEPLY disappointed in you!

So it doesn’t matter if you believe Chara is always evil, good, or detached from morality entirely. Because Chara has the same goal across all versions, they all succumb to the same inconsistencies!

Funny how most people see them as this embodiment of the addictive nature of levelling up and consuming everything in a piece of media and all that jazz WHEN THEY SEEM TO CASUALLY GIVE UP ON IT!!!!!!

And if you argue they want a Soulless Pacifist Run when they suggest “another path,” then ask yourself, what does that give them that a Genocide Run doesn’t? Keep in mind, aside from a scribbled-out photograph, we don’t see how many monsters or humans they killed besides the main characters or how much power and stats they gained from it. And it’s not like we see them erase the world afterward since only the genocide run has that infamous wall of red 9s. Not to mention, the genocide run is the most secure way of accomplishing their goals since they have the backing of the player. Not only that, but it’s also the safest and most efficient way to erase everyone and increase stats to the fullest, and we all know how Chara feels about efficiency.

So Chara has no reason to pick the Soulless pacifist ending over the Genocide Run if they want to achieve their end of increasing numbers and consuming the world… unless those things were a means to an end rather than ends themselves.

Indeed it is coming together! That’s the other reason their statement, “You think you’re above consequences,” is so damn important! They’re not telling us why we sinned, but it reveals they intend to make us suffer for those sins, and how.

That’s why Chara is seemingly so inconsistent about erasing the world. Because it was never about the world. It was all about YOU.

[SIDE NOTE: I’m sure many of you will point out that if Chara wanted us to get a Soulless ending in this world, then why would they encourage us to “move on to the next?” I don’t think this is too big an issue for two reasons. First, this line is meant to emphasize that, like all demons, Chara is inescapable and that no matter what world you go to (within their own universe), Chara will always follow you now that you’ve unleashed them. Second, because their goal concerns us and not the world they’re a part of, their character avoids the aforementioned inconsistencies that hamper the other Chara theories much more severely, in my opinion.]

Part 3: Contrapasso

Now I’m sure some of y’all might think that Chara doesn’t need to yearn for our torment to achieve the impact of the Soulless ending and that just because Chara is a demon doesn’t automatically mean they need to screw us over. You are right in that not everyone who makes a Faustian Bargain needs to have malicious intentions toward the people they’re taking advantage of (Kuybey from Madoka Magica is a great example of that). But Chara does need it! Not only does it make their character more narratively cohesive, but also makes their character more thematically impactful. And it’s more in tune with their demonic nature for them to want to torment us.

Because demons represent something more terrifying than evil itself. They represent the terrible price of embracing it, a price that all evildoers fear more than anything, and that all demons want seek to inflict upon us. Like most demons, Chara isn’t encouraging us to sin to fill the emptiness in our soul (or even their own). They did it to perpetuate that torturously empty and unfulfilled state for all eternity, a state which even themselves now endure.

Now, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve talked a lot about the themes of fulfillment and emptiness, and it’s for a good reason since those themes are heavily featured in Undertale. I mean, how could it not? Because concepts of demons, hell, and sins (which are explicitly mentioned in the game) are deeply intertwined with the concept of emptiness. The theologian Thomas Aquinas once defined evil as not a presence but as an absence (of that which is good). Darkness is the absence of light; war is the absence of peace; bigotry is the absence of tolerance; pride is the absence of humility, etc. You see this reflected in not just Christian theology but also fiction as a whole, as a lot of villains are motivated by a desire to obtain something that they believe can’t be without. Whether it be wealth, status, recognition, power, the death of an individual, or even just sadistic pleasure.

Since demons are beings that are inseparable from evil itself, the life of a demon is forever cursed by unceasing and unbearable emptiness. Hell, the word damnation originated from the Latin word damnum, which literally means loss! They’re not exactly partying in hell while your immortal soul is being slow-roasted for eternity. They’re burning in that lake of fire and brimstone along with you! They can’t end their damnation, not because they don’t want to but because they simply can’t. They’re fated to be bereft of the satisfaction or fulfillment found in Heaven or Earth, a fate that is worse than death in every sense of the word, especially since they can’t experience death anymore. Because of that, a demon embodies what is perhaps the most terrifying form of evil of all: not one rooted in a desire to rid the emptiness and unfulfillment within themselves, but a desire to inflict them upon others. Because as a wise philosopher once said:

We see this horrific state of mutually assured suffering everywhere across fiction. From goofy, lighthearted tokusatsu's...

...to nightmarish sci-fi dystopias...

...to a little indie game made 9 years ago.

Oh yeah. Don’t think I was gonna talk about emptiness without mentioning everyone’s favourite homicidal fauna-turned-flora, especially not with lines like this.

Take one to know one! And it can’t be a coincidence that the game emphasizes the theme of emptiness when giving the spotlight to the three characters that have committed the most “evil”: Flowey/Asriel, Chara, and YOU.

Quite the unholy trinity going on here, eh? It truly is fascinating how the emptiness led us to work with each other to exterminate all monsters. And it’s also interesting how the unique kind of emptiness we have eventually led us to work against each other. Whether it be Flowey wishing to preserve his sentimentality for his long-gone sibling, us players wanting to maintain our (perverted) sentimentality for the world of Undertale, or Chara weaponizing these sentimentalities to exact their misanthropic hatred.

Remember how I said that Chara was a lousy misanthrope because they keep letting us bring back the humans they wanted annihilated when they were alive? That does make them a lousy misanthrope… unless their misanthropy found a higher priority target: YOU!!!!! Chara’s desire to torment us didn’t come out of thin air. The same hatred that drove them to wipe out the humans of their world years ago is the same hatred that’s driving them to get at the humans of our world, even if it means destroying those who once embraced them. And now, that hatred is more potent and destructive than ever before, so much so that it’s no wonder Toriel was able to feel it when she endured that fatal blow after the Geno Run began.

Do you think witnessing what soullessness did to sweet little Asriel wasn’t already terrifying and tragic enough? Just try to imagine what it could‘ve done to a vengeful, traumatized, chocolate-addicted problem child so consumed by hatred that they poisoned themselves just for a chance to wipe out their own kind. All of that hatred of humanity is still alive and well, and now it has no humanity to hold it back. 

And what could be a more fitting target for a MISANTHROPE that calls themselves a DEMON… than a HUMAN that wants to play GOD?

After all, the only thing demons love more than tormenting mortals is warring with Gods.

Why else do you think that Chara winks right at you if we make Frisk stay with Toriel? Because that’s who the Soulless Ending was meant for. It’s when they’re finally able to unleash all that animosity and hatred that’s been lurking behind that smile ever since we killed everyone in the Ruins. It’s the moment that they’ve been patiently waiting for because they knew that’s when it would hit you the hardest.

And what makes the Soulless Pacifist Ending very special compared to other “bad endings” isn’t simply because they destroy those we pretend to care about (may I remind you that you did do the genocide run, after all). But they destroy something much more valuable to us as the players: OUR OMNIPOTENCE. Chara doesn’t destroy people for the sake of destroying them. But because in doing so they destroy our arrogant belief that nothing could possibly challenge the invisibility and invulnerability we players take for granted.

It's all too human that those with the most power are the least willing to lose it (or even take responsibility for it). And in a world where we should have absolute power, we thought there would be no consequences for abusing it. So what could be a more fitting and frightful punishment than having to actually face them? Missing out on the best ending in a video game is one thing. But to forever lose the power to achieve it ever again?! Now that’s terrifying!

Throughout myth, legend, and religion, sinners are often punished in a way befitting of the sin they’ve committed. In Greek Mythology, Tantalus was damned for trying to feed the Gods the flesh of his murdered son with eternal hunger and thirst despite being within arm’s reach of water and food. In Dante’s Inferno, those who succumb to wrath are forever doomed to fight each other in a river of mud. And since Undertale is no stranger to concepts such as hell, sins, and demons, you can damn well be sure that there’s going to be damnation fitting for the sins that drove you to complete the genocide run.

You completed the Genocide Run because you believed ending their lives would be fulfilling. Now, you can no longer get any fulfillment out of saving their lives.

I mean, where else can you get your precious fulfillment? Those paltry neutral endings? They only offer a fraction of what the pacifist ending offered. And the genocide ending has been drained of its satisfaction like the pacifist! Would you do all that tedious grinding and brutal boss fights just to hear your so-called “partner” lecture you again on perverted sentimentality and say you should choose another path, even though there’s nothing that they could offer? Of course not. In the end, you’re just like poor Tantalus agonizing in the pits of Tartarus, feeling the water vanish from his hands just before it touches his lips.

The ultimate triumph of Chara isn’t making you suffer a total defeat, but perhaps something much worse to you as a gamer: a pyrrhic victory. It’s like having a Twinkie that's been drained of the creamy center. Everything is still there except the thing you treasure most. You’re damned to play a challenge forever deprived of any and all fulfillment you once got from it, a satisfying journey that will always be doomed to reach a dissatisfying destination.

In the end, Chara leaves you with the world exactly as they described it the first time they met you face-to-face: POINTLESS.

You can have the world exactly as it was before (and the people within it). But in the end, Chara will always have the last laugh.

Figuratively and literally.

Welcome to hell!

Part 4: Why Consequences Matter

Woooooo!!! Man, that was quite the read, wasn’t it? And yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said this is going to be autistic as all hell! I don’t doubt you have a lot of thoughts in your mind, and then you’re gonna share them by the time you’re finished reading this post. Some of you might think this is the Chara theory to end Chara theories. Some of you believe that this is the worst thing that has happened to this fandom since Sebastian Wolff. Some of y’all, I’m whitewashing them because I argue they’re driven by a desire to punish the wicked by any means necessary. Some will think I’m demonizing them because I say that they’re, well, a demon. 

[SIDE NOTE: Just so I don’t miscommunicate what I believe about Chara’s morality, here are some key points to take away from this theory. A) Chara sought to make you pay for the evil you committed. In fact, the idea that the Soulless Ending is Chara punishing our sins has been around for a while, especially by those who think Chara was “corrupted. B) However, in this theory, Chara's actions are all done with the intent of accomplishing that goal. This means that Chara was aware of what they were doing, they wanted to do it, and that THEY KNEW IT WAS EVIL. C) But you still have to remember that Chara is also A LITERAL CHILD. And D) They’re a child who endured a great deal of hardship (and possibly trauma), which made them so embittered and vengeful. Also, E) Remember that they’re also soulless, just like Asriel when he was Flowey.]

But I think most of you were gonna look at this interpretation of Chara and feel the same thing that I have about most of yours: a take that’s not without issues, but not without a fair bit of interesting points.

But regardless of what you think of this theory overall, there’s one thing I won’t leave up for debate: I deeply treasure Chara’s character. Not just because I think they’re fun, cool, or interesting but also because I firmly believe they’re invaluable Undertale. And yet, at the same time, I think they’re severely undervalued by the fandom. And who can blame them?

The characters of Undertale speak very little of Chara, and Chara speaks for themselves even less. But just like Johan Liebert from the anime Monster, even though they’re not seen too often, they still manage to exert a massive presence and impact within Undertale’s narrative. And that presence is made all the more impactful because they perfectly represent the themes of the narrative: and that theme is CONSEQUENCES, or more accurately, the CONSEQUENCES OF VIOLENCE.

From the violence that drove Chara to climb Mt Ebott to the violence their brother Asriel inflicted in hopes of being with them forever. From something as grand as a war between two civilizations to something as small as dismembering a snowman. Everywhere you look, you will see that violence (and its repercussions) haunts the story and characters of Undertale. But what makes Undertale stand out from other media that tackles this subject is that it’s not just an integral part of its narrative but also its metanarrative. The most ingenious way it does this is by giving meaning to the actions/mechanics that we take for granted, specifically monster encounters.

Our Lord and Saviour Toby Fox said it best:

Because the monsters of Undetale are treated as something more than just enemies to be killed, there are going to be consequences for choosing to kill them away. Some argue that it goes too far in how it admonishes you for killing even a single monster, even to the point of being preachy (I’m looking at you, ScottFalco, but that’s a response for another day).

That argument is deeply flawed because it fails to account for the fact that without these ramifications, the game’s themes would be rendered null and void. The last thing that a game with a narrative centred around the consequences of violence can afford to do is afford you the luxury of avoiding them. And that principle especially applies if you dare to choose nothing BUT violence. //////If you were to bring them all back as if nothing happened, then your decision to commit genocide would be completely meaningless, which would totally disservice Undertale themes regarding violence. There needs to be consequences. LASTING CONSEQUENCES. Undertale can’t drive home its messages and them without lasting consequences. Undertale can’t deliver those consequences without Chara in the driver’s seat. And Chara’s character can only be at their most narratively cohesive and thematically impactful if seeking to make us suffer consequences was their intended destination.

Regardless of whatever detail about Chara you’re discussing or what side of the discussion you’re on, one thing is very clear: they’re absolutely essential to Undertale in the same way that Mephistopheles is essential to Faust, the Cenobites are essential to Hellraiser, and Kuybey is essential to Madoka Magica. And they’re the only ones with the means, motives, and deep-seated misanthropy to hold this whole damn game together.

Sans is right. We deserve to be burning in hell for what we did to those poor monsters. And I can't think of anyone more qualified to have us humans “burning in hell” than a self-proclaimed demon with a seething hatred of humanity.

And how fitting is it that the skeleton who judges our sins is followed by a human child who punishes us for them?

BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY!

A CHARA THEORY!

THANKS FOR READING!

[literaryavenger]

New Year's Eve

Summary: A game of two truths and a lie reveals to the team a fact about the you that Bucky can’t seem to stop thinking about.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language 'cause why not. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mutual pining, idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! Thanks for all the messages when I was sick, I'm finally feeling better and I'm negative for Covid! I really wanted to post something for New Year's Eve and this came from a fever dream I had when I was sick, lol. I hope it's any good and someone enjoys it! A particular thank you to @ordelixx for helping me with this story!💘I've only started posting here about a month and a half but I'm really enjoying it and feeling more and more comfortable in my writing. I hope I'm also getting better at it. Anyway, I have big plans for the New Year that I hope you'll enjoy! This year hasn't been great for me, but I'm planning on working harder than ever to make sure the next one is a year I can be proud of. I hope you guys have a nice last day of 2023 and an amazing start of 2024! Love you all.💘

Masterlist

“Ok, your turn, Kill Bill. Two truths and a lie, go.” Tony says, referring to the fact that you fight with swords, making you roll your eyes before you join in on the laughter.

“Ok, uhm...” you try not to look at anyone so you don’t give away the answer “I have a teddy bear that I sleep with, I have bungee jumped from the top of the tower and I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

You look back up to the room and wait for their guesses.

It’s a Friday night and the people that remained in the Tower for the holidays decided to have a little game night.

Every year the same people stay around, having nowhere in particular to go, and spend Christmas together. 

Clint and Scott usually spend this time with their families, this year Thor decided to go to New Asgard with Bruce and Loki to visit Val and Korg, and Peter decided to spend it with aunt May and Happy.

You usually alternate between going to visit your family and staying in the tower each year, and this one was your turn to go to your first home.

You came back the day after Christmas, never being one to miss Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that’s gonna happen in two days now.

“Well, we know she has a teddy bear.” Wanda says.

“Do we know that?” Tony turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have one?”

“Yes, she does, we’ve seen it” Natasha answers for you while you glance at Bucky, praying he doesn’t put together that they’re talking about the teddy bear he gifted you for Valentine’s Day this year along with flowers. 

Natasha and Wanda were more happy than you when you told them, sustaining that he did it because he liked you until you pointed out that he gave flowers to them too, because he’s sweet and a gentleman and that’s just who he is.

They wouldn’t let up on the fact that neither of them got a teddy bear though, and you would have agreed with them but Bucky never really did anything else about it so you decided to let it go and not read too much into it.

You're brought back to the present by Tony.

“Ok, so she has one. Then it’s gotta be the New Year’s kiss, everyone has had one at least once in their life,” he was looking at your reaction very closely while talking, but you did your best to keep an easy smile and not give anything away.

“Even Captain Virgin over there had one last year.” he adds vaguely waving towards Steve’s general direction. 

You crack at the nickname and at the undignified sound Steve made while blushing and glancing at Nat that shared that kiss with him.

“Tony, there’s no way that she bungee jumped from the roof without us knowing, that’s gotta be the lie.” Sam interjects, also watching you closely for any signs of a reaction that you manage not to give.

“Alright, just take your guesses, people.” You say to the group.

“New Year’s Kiss.” Tony all but yelled, Natasha and Wanda agreeing with him.

“Bungee jump.” Sam says and Steve and Bucky agree, then they all seem to hold their breath as they wait for your answer.

It’s not a surprise that even these stupid little games cause a lot of competition amongst the team.

“Neither.”-you finally said and let out a laugh when they all groan in annoyance while taking their shots for guessing wrong.

“WAIT- you bungee jumped off the ROOF? When?!” Steve seems more concerned than anything.

“Well, you know a few months ago when we happened to all be on different missions at the same time?” They nod, not knowing where you're going with this “Clint and I came back first from ours, we were bored and there was no one around to stop us from doing anything stupid so…” you trail off, shrugging while laughing. 

Steve looks shocked, Sam is laughing his ass off while Tony immediately goes to look for the security footage.

They all cheered while watching you throw yourself off the roof, Clint's yells and laughter could be heard, and then Steve shakes his head while joining you in the laughter when you see Clint take his turn and scream like a little girl while you fall to the ground laughing on the video. 

Once you all composed yourselves, Tony pokes Wanda’s arm “I thought you said she had a teddy bear.” he's looking at her like she brought him on a treasure hunt and then betrayed him and left him for dead on a deserted island.

“She does! She got it from-” you interrupt her before she can finish the sentence, blushing a little and avoiding Bucky’s eyes.

“I do have a teddy bear, I just don’t sleep with it.” you say, shrugging.

“Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” Natasha whines.

“It’s really not, just because I do have one it doesn’t mean I didn’t tell a lie about it” you laugh at her pout.

“Wait a minute, so you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” Tony looks at you like you suddenly grew two heads.

“It’s not a big deal. Funny thing is, I have had boyfriends during New Year’s Eve, I just never happen to spend the day with them.” you say absentmindedly while thinking back at all the parties you’ve been to over the years to celebrate the new year.

“Really?” it's so quiet you almost missed it, your eyes snapping up to meet Bucky’s that were already looking at you.

“Is that so hard to believe?” The room seems to go quiet as everybody looks at you two, but you're too focused on each other to notice.

“I didn’t- I mean…” his cheeks started to turn a little pink as he seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence “It’s just you’re very pretty, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You didn’t know what to say to that, you start blushing too while opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, looking like a damn fish.

You settle for a quiet ‘thank you’ with a smile that he shyly returns, neither of you noticing the glances passed by everyone else.

The whole team is convinced that there’s something between you and Bucky, but both of you always deny it and don’t seem to read too much into each other’s actions, always dismissing the glances and lingering touches as friendly affection even though you’re not really that close.

But really what else could it be?

The team lets the moment end and the game goes on, everyone keeps drinking and having fun until it gets really late and you all decide to call it a night.

Bucky goes to his bedroom and gets ready for sleep but he can’t seem to focus on anything else but you.

He really doesn’t understand how can anybody see your pretty self when you’ve just woken up, no makeup and your eyes full of sleep and not want to kiss you, let alone when you are all dolled up in a pretty golden dresses like you do every New Year’s. 

Every year it gets harder for him not to just grab you and kiss you, hell every day is pretty much torture to see you around the Compound and not get to be with you the way he wants to.

But he has to keep his hands to himself because there’s no way you could actually like him like that. 

He’s even tried to drop hints here and there like giving you the teddy bear for Valentine’s Day but, except for the cute shade of pink that your face turned, you still didn’t seem all that interested.

Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking what it would be like if you did like him and fantasize about being your first New Year’s kiss and maybe even your last first kiss.

At the same time you were in your own room getting ready for bed while your own thoughts kept going back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the living room. 

You didn’t know if you were more embarrassed because you actually told the team you’ve never had a kiss on New Year’s Eve or happy because Bucky called you pretty.

If it was anyone else you wouldn’t even think twice about it, but coming from him it just felt like you were being complimented for the first time ever. 

Everytime you thought about it you felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and at this point the moment was pretty much on loop in your mind.

The more you think about it the more you feel your face heat up, sleep not coming easily as you slip into Bucky filled dreams.

The next day everybody’s hanging out in the living room, most of them nursing a hangover from last night. You get ready for a last minute shopping trip to try and find a new dress for New Year’s Eve.

When you get to the living room you see Steve grinning at a disgruntled Tony, Wanda, Sam and Natasha who are obviously very hangover and nowhere near as amused as the blonde supersoldier. 

Bucky’s attention is on you as soon as you're in his field of vision and no one fails to notice it, except you of course, your own attention on Wanda and Natasha sprawled on the couch.

“Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come shopping with me,” you start watching from one to the other, as amused as Steve at everyone’s inability to contain themselves when drinking. “but I don’t think that’s happening.” 

“Bite me, YLN.” Is all Nat says.

Wanda, on the other hand, is a little gentler. “I can come with you, if you want.” she says sweetly.

“That’s okay, Wands.” you smile at her “just rest and drink lots of water.”

You turn around, saying bye to everyone and making your way out. As soon as the doors of the elevator close, everyone turns to Bucky that's not even pretending not to be staring anymore.

Not that anyone could ignore the longing look on Bucky’s face as he watches you walk away.

“Buck,” Steve starts talking, glancing at everyone before setting his gaze back on his best friend. “we need to talk.”

“Okay…” he slowly drags out, unsure if he even wants Steve to keep going.

“Well, we’ve been noticing some things lately…” He’s unsure of how to say this. “Between you and Y/N.”

Bucky’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink, but he’s still not sure where Steve’s going with this so he says nothing.

“So we thought” he gestures around at everybody. “that maybe we should-”

“We know you like her, and we want to help you get with her.” Tony interrupts Steve, quickly getting to the point.

At Steve’s glare, Tony merely raises his hands in surrender saying, “Listen, Capsicle, I’m way too hungover to take the panoramic route. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yeah, Stark’s right.” Sam says, turning Bucky whose face is fully red now. “You have a weak ass game, man. Let us help you.”

They all look at the brunette supersoldier while waiting for his answer. He chews on his lip while looking at the expectant faces of his friends, before letting out a deep sigh.

“How would you even help me?” He says quietly, neither accepting nor denying their help just yet.

“Well, we know Y/N,” Wanda says.

“Yeah, we can tell you what turns her on.” Natasha smirked, before Wanda flicks her ear making her let out an ‘ow’ with a slight pout.

“What she means is,” she glares at Natasha “we can tell you what she likes, you know. Maybe help you get closer to her.”

Bucky shakes his head lightly “This is not a good idea. And it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t like me.”

Wanda and Natasha seem to have a silent conversation, ending with Natasha raising her eyebrow at Wanda and Wanda just sighing with a soft ‘fine’.

“She does like you.” Wanda turns back to Bucky.

“She’s just convinced that you don’t like her like that.” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes.

Bucky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Maybe it was the glimmer of hope the girls gave him, but if there was even the slightest chance you could actually like him, he owed it to himself to try. 

So he let the team make a plan to get you guys together, hoping to god he wouldn’t come to regret it.

You come home a few hours later, super excited to have found the perfect dress for the party the next night.

Bucky thought you were just so cute, all smiles and giggles.

Wanda and Nat talked you into having the last girls night of the year, although it didn’t really take much convincing.

And so the plan begins.

You’re relaxing on your bed, Wanda lying next to you, your head on her lap, and Nat sprawled on the love seat near the window close to your bed.

You’re wearing bathrobes, sheet masks on your faces as you watch a cheesy romcom that you’re so embarrassingly into you don’t even notice the girls exchange a look and nod at each other.

Wanda clears her throat and then begins talking, as casually as she can. “So, how come you never told us you never had a New Year’s kiss?”

They had to approach the subject somehow, right?

“I don’t know,” you say absentmindedly and then shrug, your attention still on the Tv. “didn’t think it was important.” 

“Sure it isn’t.” Nat said, and her tone took your attention away from the movie for the first time since it started.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Tasha?” she simply shrugs, an innocent look in the face.

“It doesn’t mean anything” she says, her attention seemingly on the movie “I mean, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why would it bother me?” you frown, you don't understand what's so weird about this.

“Well, some people might find it a little…” Wanda trails off.

“Sad?” Natasha ends for her.

“It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone.” you're starting to get a little defensive.

“We know that, sweetie.” Wanda coos, stroking your hair while you look up at her.

“We really didn’t mean anything by it.” Natasha ends, giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah, whatever.” is all you say, and you turn your eyes back to the tv, your attention nowhere near it.

Natasha and Wanda can basically hear the gears turn in your head and give each other one last glance. 

Part one of the plan is complete.

The next day goes through like usual, the team spending basically the whole morning together.

It’s a tradition, having the last breakfast of the year together, watching the last movie, having the last lunch and so on. Doing all the lasts together.

It’s silly, but it’s a tradition you've all come to be very fond of. 

The afternoon comes and you and the girls spend it getting ready for the party, last night’s conversation almost forgotten.

Almost.

As you got to the party the music was deafening before you even stepped out of the elevator and, once you did, you were immediately immersed in a sea of perfume and cologne and, like every other Stark party extravaganza, you didn’t know about 98% of the people there. 

You quickly find the team, as outgoing as most of them are, you usually spend most of the night together because it’s the last night of the year, last party and, again, it's your tradition.

You talk, you joke, you laugh but the more you drink the more you keep thinking about your conversation with the girls last night.

Was it really that sad that you’ve never started a new year with a kiss?

Midnight came sooner than you would’ve liked and your teammates decide to ask you a sobering question.

“So, who are you kissing?” Tony asks very casually.

You turn around confused, the team’s eyes all on you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nobody told you?” Sam says, looking around him “We’re all kissing someone tonight.”

“I- You- What?” you glance towards Bucky so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.

“Well, Romanoff is kissing Rogers, I’m obviously kissing Pepper and Wanda is kissing Wilson.” Tony said, before specifying while pointing at the last two “As friends, obviously.”

“So, you’re all kissing someone?” You look at everyone except the one person you actually want to look at.

Something inside of you just believes that he would nod too and a beautiful woman that you could never compare to would appear at his side.

“Well,” Steve starts. “not all of us…”

He trails off and, following his gaze, you land on the very pair of blue eyes you were trying to avoid.

Suddenly everyone else scatters and it was just you and Bucky. You don't know what to say, but you feel like you can't look away from him now.

What the hell is happening to you?

You’re talking before you can even stop yourself “You know, we could also kiss. As friends.” you add, realizing what you just said, your eyes wide with your own surprise.

He’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get a sound out before you’re backtracking so fast you might actually fall out the window.

“You don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not like I’d make you.” you chuckled awkwardly, but you can’t stop yourself from rambling “Unless you wanted to. But why would you want to? It’s not like you’re missing anything. I’m not anything special.”

You can hear the countdown starting, but it sounds distant to your ears as your heart pounds faster. “I mean, I’m sure you’re a good kisser. Why wouldn’t you be? Not that you’re like a lady’s man.”

Bucky glances around him, the team giving him encouraging looks as they near zero and you just keep going “But like you were, you know. Not that it’s a bad thi-”

You're thankfully interrupted abruptly by Bucky’s lips on yours just as everyone yells ‘Happy New Year’ and gold and black confetti starts falling down on you.

You can't even begin to comprehend what's happening but your body does, kissing him back almost immediately.

It feels like forever and also too soon when he pulls away, you can't even hearing the chaos around you anymore.

All that exists is you and Bucky and his eyes and his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and his lips that you wanted to kiss again and kiss forever and never stop.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he says after a few seconds. Or maybe days. Weeks? Hours? It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the bright smile he gives you when you say “Me too.”

He kisses you again, but this time the spell is broken by the team’s whistles and cheers. 

When you pull away you’re both blushing a little, you glance around you and see all the smug faces of the idiots you love to death, Bucky’s attention never leaving you.

“And by the way,” Bucky says, gaining your attention once more. “you have more qualities than you think,” he then pointed at your chest “You have this.”

You looked down to where he was pointing before saying “I do have great tits, yes.”

When you looked back at him he was blushing even harder and looked like he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, while you were more relaxed now that the kiss took away all the awkwardness, but trying hard not to laugh. 

“... I meant heart” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Either or.” you answered, shrugging and when you heard the snickers of the team around you, you couldn’t help but join them, followed by a still blushing Bucky.

Yep, this year is definitely gonna be an interesting one.

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 17: Brat Taming 

Pairing: Choi Yena x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,832

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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You can’t always get what she wants and she can’t always get what she needs—these two clauses never contradict as it's different in each way yet aimed towards the same intent: fulfillment.

Choi Yena is a girl you’d watch yourself into, as she’s the living definition of a brat, in your own words. Not really a specific brat, but she really tends to be selfish all of the time, and that isn’t really ideal considering how you’re always making her change but always ends up defeated and your advances deemed to be useless against her.

She has an iron wall that’s tough to break, but under specific circumstances, there’s always the Achilles’ heel to be used against it.

“Well, this sucks…” Yena chides boredom, sighing deeply as she’s deeply restive within the supposedly delicious food in front of the table and with her discontented countenance, you advance to confront her as you’re confused on why she’s acting like this.

“Don’t like the food, princess?”

“Nu-uh. It’s bland and soggy—look!” Yena grabs a minuscule sample of spaghetti with her fork, presenting how incredibly unacceptable it is on her own perspective as she voices out her frustration with it, and you, absolutely stunned with her complaints as you don’t see anything wrong with the food presented.

“Oh yeah, I forgot—should’ve treated you to eat some gold, huh?” You batted out a joke towards her, in which she took it a little seriously, punching your shoulder playfully as her pouts emanated such strong channels of chagrin, not satisfied with the meal she’s been supposedly enjoying.

“Yah! I’m not like that, but I’d like to eat something way better than this…”

Of course, she’ll be luring you into another set of her tricks, opting for you to fall down of her trap but with two years and a half of being with her, you knew exactly what she’s up to for you to fulfill her wants. You read her mind like a book but of course, you’ll choose to play along with her game to bait her and let her be the victim of her own medicine.

“Like what?” You feign such fake innocence, in which Yena takes as an opportunity to voice out her naughty desires and just like that, she stepped into your trap.

“Like daddy’s—” You tighten the grip of her wrists under the table, making her wince in pain as you stop her from her advances of such dirty talk in public.

“You know what Yena, just eat your goddamn food and we’ll get out of here, okay?” You grew impatient with her own antics, making her opt to the possible endgame before the anticipated climax soon.

“But I don’t like it! I don’t like it!” Yena whimpered as she didn't like the words that came out of your mouth and knowing that you’re setting her up to further make her miserable, she stepped up and voiced out her frustrations towards you and you’re not absolutely having it. “I won’t bother finishing these—”

“Alright then, Yena…” You averted your attention onto finishing the food on your plate as your demeanor became stern and commanding and Yena’s face suddenly feigned fear and anxiety, not wanting what may happen next. “It’s just fair to not reward my princess something if she didn’t finish her food.”

Yes, you read her like a goddamn book and guess what, it’s working more than well. Knowing how insatiable you are for her that can’t bear to not be rewarded with your load for a day says a lot, and she’s willing to do everything just to get that desired prize of hers that you would love to use as an advantage against her—Yena’s kryptonite that will flick a switch inside her, making her reevaluate her own selfish decisions.

“Okay then, daddy…”

Well, if she’s willing to provoke the sleeping beast inside you, then you’ll let her, because at the end of the day, you know that she’ll regret it and will absolutely be damned to be punished and used, like the slutty brat she always became, all for you.

---

Royalties and class, two things that exude Yena as every movement of hers is either sophisticated, intense disgust or her own primal needs taking over her. Limited choices yet it doesn’t matter, because it will revolved around that and it will never change—maybe when you’ve fucked something out of her, then maybe the stars will re-align but chances would be slim to none.

There’s no fucking chance in this planet she’ll be able to make others bear her bitchy, bratty attitude and you are the only worthy to handle her as you know exactly how to make her be yours and to tame that living beast inside her, even if it means to do the nastiest things to her.

Well, that won’t be the case for now but knowing how she’s luring you into a challenge, really makes everything inside you be in that state of fury as her words captivate you and turn you on, and it’s damn dangerous to be this riled while driving on a high-speed highway.

Guess the feelings are mutual between the both of you; she can pick the locks inside you as much as you can with hers, and it’s not even close to exert much effort.

“Yena, you know we can’t—not here, princess, alright?” You peacefully pointed out how risky and not suitable for you to really do this, let alone doing such a sinful act on a highway even though it’s just the both of you that will be blessed by the sight.

Not really surprised about her responsive actions of your denial, and you’d love to see that knowing how her frustration and the needy sounds she makes sends you into a state of delight. “Come on, daddy! You’re no fun!”

Yena pouts as she faces you, frustrated with your own selfish acts of your definition of fun as she crosses her arms right after, letting you know how she seriously wants this.

“If you want us to crash because of your selfish needs to blow my dick, then sure, Yena.” With your encouraging words with sarcasm laced on it, Yena faced you with a glare as you can see it evident on your peripherals. As much as you don’t want to, you might just give it a shot and to maybe even risk your life in terms of a pleasurable service and to literally just make Yena shut up with your own length inside her bratty mouth.

“You’re just playing with me, daddy—I know you—”

“Do you want to blow my dick or not? ‘Cause I’m getting pretty impatient, Yena.” You stated, your tone demanding and laced with subtle rage as you continue to drive, unfazed with her own presence that will soon draw onto your own treasured prize and given the green light, she acted up immediately and didn’t waste any of your time. Drawing her attention towards your clothed nether region, her hands then hastily finds its way onto the button of your pants while carefully not hitting anything, and with her subtle touch makes you lose a hint of focus yet you fight it as the last thing you would want to see is crashing on a highway. Carefully unbuttoning your pants and bringing them onto your knees, her eyes lit up in excitement as she can see your member getting erected and that’s all because of her.

“Ooh, getting turned on I see, hm, daddy?” Yena delightfully mocks you as steam comes out of your nose, a bit annoyed with her current antics as there’s no in any planet you would deny how it’s not her fault that you’re getting this hard.

“Then do something about it and don’t kill us, Yena.” She then resumes her advances of undressing your final clothed defense, finally freeing your throbbing length from its prison and she is met with your member, her eyes now lit in awe yet a click of your tongue makes her stop. “Five minutes only.”

Yena whimpers as she looks at you deeply with her signature duck pout, making you rethink your decision as she persuades you with all her might. “Please, can it be longer, daddy? Please, please?”

Even if she bats out her hundred of pleas you will just ignore it as a brat doesn't deserve such reward—she should be grateful instead of complaining but you know that girls like her will be rewarded truly if they earned it, and this is probably just one of the few tests you have in plan.

Guess, you’ll be just the judge while your mind’s focused on driving straight for the both of you to not crash and god, you’re really fighting for it.

Maybe you’ll be the one who’s going to be tested as it’s all deteriorating once she laid her soft lips onto the head of your shaft, as you give in the pleasure yet focus on the highway.

Five minutes—five goddamn minutes.

---

“Kneel down, princess.”

“Yes, daddy…” Yena immediately obliged your command as her face anticipates what you may have in store, her eyes glistening with need and lust that no one can define, maybe not even herself can.

Of course, she won’t be leaving your place without a load dumped inside her or painted on her because of how addicted she is to you and how she’s always a victim of indulging towards her primal desires the second you’re within the vicinity of her sight.

She’s crazy about you as much as you are towards her but Yena’s just on a whole new level—way above the charts of your expectations and it’s not really surprising at this point.

In most terms, she’s always been a pain in the ass the deal with, even with your entire length plunged inside her, she can’t seem to really change her bratty demeanor, like it’s glued onto her by default and it’s bittersweet—bitter in annoyance and sweet because you love taming her, getting the absolute value of each others’ needs.

Even without serving her desired prize on her speedway blowjob earlier, her eyes are still refulgent with anticipation and eagerness—not to mention how she complains so much when her time is up and without a load deep down her throat, completely opposing her current needs for you.

“You better finish what you’ve started earlier alright, princess?” You relax onto the cold, marble wall as Yena nods eagerly, and then advance her way onto your fully-erect length as she eyes it like her favorite meal and with a mischievous smirk planted onto her mouth and her evil eyes, you know exactly how she’ll start this off. You moaned almost inaudibly once her soft, plump lips became in contact with your swollen head and right from the start, her masterclass is absolutely at its peak finest.

Her mouth is one of your treasure features of her, not just by the fact that you could embrace yourself to initiate such a torrid kiss with her but it’s just the fact on how soft they are that it’s just sculpted perfectly to service gratification to you, not even including her sinful gags and the vacuum-like suction that makes up the elements of a mind-boggling blowjob that she always excels at.

Speaking of oral talents, she has it all, and maybe even multiple.

“Keep doing that, princess… Keep t-that mouth all the way in.” Even if it spirals out of control, you’ll be cursed to encourage her ultimately as she takes your whole length slowly, ensuing a leisure bobbing that aims to build up the pleasure and your own libido. 

She didn’t gag, not yet, as she continues to reach new depths, making herself accustomed to your whole length and the inevitable snaps, gagging prematurely as she tried to keep it in without pulling out but was not deemed successful, coughing a little right after her former struggles.

She wouldn’t let herself disappoint you as she grabbed your already saliva-sheathed cock as fast as she could and directed it inside her mouth, blowing you rapidly as her thrusts in quick succession never fails to set yourself on a blissful trance. Her hands find themselves onto the porcelain skin of your thighs, caressing it to voice out how comfortable she is and the other, fondling your sensitive balls in order for better stimulation and better quality of pleasure. Simultaneous gags, drool seeping out of her mouth, tears running down her cheek and her rapid pace lives up tot eh epitome of a blowjob—and she’s cursed to be great at this.cheek and the cherry on top, her rapid pace that adds up to the filthiness of a sinful image she’s been into and god, if you could just take a picture of this, let along record this as a video, you’ll absolutely do it but getting occupied by Yena’s soft lips and tight throat would be just better than anything that can bother you in this world, and you leave it as it is.

Her head frantically bobs like she’s set to hypnotize you as her techniques really live up to her title, every movement she does to stimulate you is making you feel way better than the previous, and it’s really working more than well. She constantly slurps as more drool seeps out of her hungry mouth, also a way to voice out her utter satisfaction with being rewarded with an insatiable candy that she can’t get enough of. Because of her great work between your legs, you dive into the inevitable bliss as your hands find their way to her vibrantly pink locks, grabbing a fistful of it to form a makeshift ponytail in order for you to have such strong leverage to guide her and fight for the utmost gratification.

Of course, she knows what you’ll end up into once she felt your hands on the back of her constantly bobbing head: she could only anticipate it as you hips will gradually thrust into her suffocatingly tight throat, craving for more to the point that you’ll give in and fuck her face rapidly.

She knows you and reads you like a book—again, feelings are mutual, as well as your needs towards each other.

There’s no point in not giving in to using her mouth like a fleshlight, because it’s literally what she’s built for: to take the entirety of your length to the point of no-return and absolutely giving everything you want—what your hips can muster.

“I might need to fuck that bratty mouth of yours princess, you wouldn’t mind it, won’t you?” Your sinister tone makes her apprehensive yet nonetheless, she trusts you with all her might—and you won’t dare to break that—as she nods eagerly, her eyes begging for the absence of your mercy in order to use her mouth with what might you can as she wants it badly. 

“Oh, so you want it this badly, huh?” With her slow bobs, you groan with the pleasure she’s giving yet time wouldn’t be wasted as you grip her hair and make her look up at you, your tone now laced with the utter need of voicing out her primal desires. “Then say how badly you want this, princess”

With more greedy bobs onto your rock-hard shaft, she immediately pulls out as so, and let her lips release such wanton profanities that absolutely will arouse the living beast inside of you. “I w-want you to ram on m-my slutty throat, daddy—”

“How hard, princess?” It was a sudden response, aiming to mutter up an answer escaping her lips on her possible wants of your treatment towards hers.

“Want you t-to fuck my throat like h-how I deserve it…” She trembles between divisible of her own lustful words, the utter nervousness and adrenaline kicking in as she continues stating her needs. “Want t-to feel daddy’s c-cock ramming on my t-throat because of how m-much of a slut I am.”

Good thing she knows what she is and what she came to, at this moment. Given on how sincere she is in every word she says as her tone really pleads you to service her throat, states on how she badly desires her close-to-an-ultimate prize (punishment on you own perspective) and without wasting any second, you opted to give her what she wants and to full indulge to your own carnal desires.

“Okay, princess, hands behind your back—” You command her as you grow impatient with her lustful talks, wanting to make her struggle in the best way possible—also, you would not want to hurt her in the process—and to build up the rising climax of her anticipation. “—and your head up.” Of course, your hands aren’t idle enough to just appreciate the beauty of her waiting to be ruined, as you hands force its way onto the back of her head again yet this time, you grip onto her semi-disheveled pigtails, wanting to use them as handlebars and a leverage on what you're about to do to her—maybe she purposely tied her hair this way, knowing that she’ll maybe get her mouth fucked half open.

If this is what she wants, then she’ll get it but you should let her know why this all started: it’s all because of aiming to tame her properly and if your words can’t do it, then sure, maybe your cock will do the talking.

You don’t even need to command Yena to open her mouth as she does it involuntarily, begging you for more until it was all unable to beared and contained, letting everything but indulged within and you can just see your whole length being submerged into the depths of her mouth, taking more and fully encouraging you to even go deeper. The incredible suction of her cheeks never fails to bewilder you, let alone diving deeper as every inch of her walls results in marvelous groans of pleasure because of the warmth and the right tightness of it. You gave Yena’s mouth few thrusts to get herself used on your whole length again—in a better view, she doesn’t really need that since she’s sucking and getting her mouth used by you very often that it’s started to molded onto the shape of your cock—wanting her to feel every inch of it brushing down her throat as she gags when it hits the back of her throat. She fights it with all her might this time, and when you notice her gag reflex calming down, now’s the time to use the pliant princess’s heavenly throat like how she deserves it.

How does she deserve it? Well, it’s only a matter of time for her to find out.

With now a better feeling from both parties, your hips now ensued such a breakneck pace, catching her off-guard. Yena almost breaks herself free but knowing that if she does, she will be in big trouble and be prone to a worse punishment in which she wouldn’t want to. With that in mind, she fights herself onto your rapid usage of her whole throat as drool inevitably seeps out of her mouth, coating everything in its vicinity with her saliva that further adds to the lubrication with your ruthless advances. You tighten the grip on her hair, causing to add more mess to her already disheveled locks as you continuously rammed her throat like you want to prove something—you don’t need to prove anything but rather, prove herself worthy of your mercy.

“Is this what you fucking wanted, Yena? Your f-face to be fucked like a-an animal?” It’s a rhetorical question but an evident nod ensued right after, noticing it even with your rapid pace trying to open up Yena’s throat as you could find yourself getting harsher with one goal in mind: to tame her and possibly, fuck that brattiness out of her brat mouth.

You didn’t just mindfully thrust your hips like you’re in autopilot, but rather set series of forceful deepthroats, filling every inch of her slutty throat up to the brim, balls-deep and then resuming back onto thrusting—it repeats like a cycle, and that’s part of the plan: foreplay, to be build the suspense and then suddenly go berserk. You playfully tug her hair in order to force her down and then taking your entire length with thrusts ensued on a quick succession, each oscillation hits her saliva-sheathed chin with your own balls as the audible sounds of such skin clapping is arousing you even further.

“Fuck—this bratty throat feels good—can’t wait to even feel more of you, princess—fuck!” You continue to give her ruthless thrusts, breaking the velocity barrier your hips can muster as you pull out of her mouth and not surprisingly, she gasps for heavy breaths and multiple coughs because of your harshness down her throat.

“G-God, daddy—t-that was s-so good—hah, y-you’re going t-to make my throat sore…” Yena muttered between catching breaths and a broken voice, truly making you admire the masterclass you’ve done that she surely loved.

“Of course—need this fucking throat to teach a lesson.”

“A l-lesson? Am I the n-naughtiest student you’ve ever seen, d-daddy?” Yena seduces you with her vixen capabilities and her honey-laced words dripping with lust, and it forces you to sully her again, specifically her mouth.

“You know the answer to that, princess.” Yena looks up with you with a smirk, her mischievous plan starting to come together as she bites her lips and moaned uncontrollably, your hands finding its way on caressing her perky yet voluptuous mounds as you aimed to weaken her until she’s about to be fully submissive. With her hands still on her back, she can’t help herself to fight the pleasure as she can only just whimper and close her eyes, letting the serotonin course down her veins as every second that passes is fully treasured by the bratty princess in front of you.

“I would have used your throat more harshly but bad brats like you don’t deserve to swallow my cum—not even a single ounce of it.” Your hands then palmed her cheek as your fingers caressed it right after, admiring the sullied countenance of Yena’s face that deserves to be at the hall of fame on how it perfectly depicts the oxymoron, “the ruined goddess”.

“Brats need to be punished for being such a bitch and if my words can’t tame you—” Your suspenseful tone is intimidating her, sending chills down her spine as every word you say is laced with sincerity and full on lust. Her mouth shivers when she feels your hand teasing her cheek with your throbbing length, and it’s just becoming better for now considering how you’re building up such a stupendous anticipation that anyone can hook onto, even the both of you. “—then maybe my cock will.” 

You slap your length onto her cheek, making her yelp a little as you command her to stand up, her immediately obliging to your imperative advances, even with a visible struggle because of her lack of balance. 

“Sit here and wait for me, okay? I’ll get something and don’t you dare move away from this position.” You glared at her as she nodded slowly, her mouth curling up onto a smile as her eyes glistened with her own desires, only thinking further of what you may have in store for her.

---

“Wear it, Yena.”

“But don’t I look silly, daddy?”

“Just fucking wear it—it’ll be good on you…” You grow impatient with her complaints as she does what she’s requested to do, as she wears the belt-like leather collar around her neck, her hands trembling probably from her nervousness and there’s nothing to worry about it, knowing it’ll fade faster than the speed of light. With her collar now around her neck, you commanded her to go on all her fours on the bed and again, she quickly obliged, not wanting you to wait any further. Greed consumes over you, finding its way to succumb onto your lustful needs as you line your swollen head within the emanating heat of her lower lips as she moans in every tease you do, fueling up each others’ libido. 

As much as you want to tease the living brat out of her, your aim is to fuck it out of her and you’ll do exactly what you need to.

Not wasting any second, the climax of the show starts as you penetrate her with your whole length and in response, she screams in delight because of how big you are inside her, feeling that you may destroy her guts. You easily fill her up to the hilt, burying your entire shaft inside her and then withdrawing to slam back in hard, making her cry for your mercy and to further fuck her like an animal.

The comeuppance starts, and you’re willing to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget—you may have done this to her a lot of times but this time, it would hit differently and you would end this session making her know who you really are to mess with.

Grateful to the helping aid of lubrication with her juices coursing down, and around your shaft, you start off with a relentless pace and don't give her time to get used to your length, wanting to make her feel your wrath and how she deserves to be treated. She further moans in every withdrawal you do as the collar helps for a better leverage onto ramming into her tight core repeatedly, and as the cherry on top, you like the muffled sounds of her chokes every time you pull the chain of the collar, you could hear her broken moans and probably, even asphyxiating her—one of her kinks is you choking her, and you’re glad to be innovative and creative on fulfilling that and knowing this, Yena appreciates this truly as she voices out to even ruin her further.

“D-Daddy—r-ruin my slu—slut pussy! I d-deserve t—to be treated l-like this—oh gosh—holy fuck!!”

You continuously do as so, and with her repeated pleas, you grew annoyed with her ebullient noises and stated your frustrations towards her. “Just s-shut the fuck up and take my cock well, princess!”

With your further attempts of silencing her with your ramming clashes against her tight pussy, you vent out your frustrations and channel everything onto your thrusts, causing her to repeatedly plead and moan because of your aggressive actions. She wanted this deserves this, so she just deserves to be fucked like a true animal. Her arms grew weaker, unable to support her upper frame due to the constant overloading of pleasure she’s been feeling and wanting to bury her head with her advances, you won’t let a single trick up her sleeve be deemed successful against you as you pulled the collar towards you, making her compose such broken melodies that reverberated around the room, and around your ears.

You can hear her cries in every thrust you do, as it’s all starting to come to the point where she’ll fully succumb to her needs and submissiveness, which is your goal before this steamy session ends. It wasn't long before you gave her round, bubble buttcheeks the hardest spanks it deserves as it became frequent all of a sudden, making her yelp and cry because of your harsh actions against her constantly-rammed backside. With now your hands fully occupied to treat her like the slut she is and like the brat she deserves, Yena can’t help but just think of your cock ravaging her tight, little cunt rapidly as it clouds her, same repeated, wanton moans are the response of your actions and knowing she wouldn’t last long at this time and with her cunt constantly clenching, you double the efforts on fucking her onto oblivion as the lustful drive in you takes over. 

“You’re about to cum, right, Yena?”

She mutters a stuttered “yes” as she nods frantically before resuming her constant moans of pleasure. “But what if I don’t want my princess to cum? Will she not cum for her daddy or will she be punished for good? Because—” You let go of the tight grip on the chains of the leather collar as you inch closely onto her ear and whispered with venom, “—if you didn’t follow me, there will be serious consequences and you won’t like that, won’t you, Yena?”

Yena’s apologetic cries can be heard laced in her agreement, scared that she may provoke you that will make her needs be deprived. “I w-will do anything f-for you, daddy but p-please—-ahh!”

You kiss her nape, and then her neck, showing your affection towards her as you worship the musky scent of her body emanating sweat, perfume and sex as you respond, “Please what, princess?”

It took seconds for Yena to respond, the gratification becoming too much to handle as she composes herself, and pleads for you. “P-Please let me cum, daddy…”

A side of you is fainthearted: wanting to not make herself be lost and want her to engage on her high as much as possible but she needs to be punished, and your conclusion with that? To fully ruin her.

Thanks to the constant lapping of her juices, it didn’t became a struggle to lubricate her puckered hole as you insert your thumb in it, opting to stimulate her further as you continued to fuck her mercilessly. It wouldn’t take long before she reaches her high with of the kinky stuff and the most stimulating advances being done all in one session as she lets out whimpers, and knowing that her high is near and you know it’ll blast like a volcano, you wouldn’t put her to torture as lean in again to her ear and then whispering again, “Then cum on my cock, princess—let it all out.”

Giving her the final thrusts with her collar as a leverage onto a greater quality of such mindless abomination of fucking, she clenched tightly as you groan because of it and within a second, she’s in her own blissful trance, moaning out your name as she voices out her ecstasy.

“D-Don’t s-stop fucking me, d-daddy—oh fuck—I’m c-cumming so h-hard—fuck!!”

As requested by her, you continue ramming her pussy as she climaxes beautifully, voicing out series of ecstatic moans as she forms a rivulet around your shaft, dripping it all over her thighs, your balls and some even on the bed sheets which soon will be changed because of how filthy and messy it would be after the both of you are done. You continue oscillating at such an incredible pace that you didn’t mind making her recover on her high, making her yell in pleasure and utmost sensitivity. With a ruthless pace, of course, you didn’t ignore the chains as you pulled

“Are y-you close, daddy? Please c-cum inside m-me—fuck, p-please, daddy—ahh—mmfh-ahh!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, slut!” Of course, after her ephemeral orgasm, you resume onto your harshness, spanking and fondling her mounds as you draw circles down her taut buds, making her whimper because of the pleasure and sensitivity. You grew frustrated and enough of her bratty actions of eternal need as you choke her a little with the collar, further ramming into her tight cunt repeatedly as her thighs now quiver, her limbs growing weaker and letting herself succumb onto your own spell, hypnotizing her with the rapid sounds of bodies clashing together that adds up to the sea of sinful sounds that’s been kept inside this puny room right from the start.

Now chasing your own orgasm and to further commit onto fucking that living brat out of her body, you gave in to your primal desires, fucking each other like animals as within a few thrusts or seconds from now, it won’t be long until you meet yourself onto the promised land—in the possibly eternal state of bliss.

Now, having enough of the collar, you pull her hair as you draw yourself closer to your own orgasm, wanting to make sure that you’ll have one hell of a climax. You repeatedly spank her to further arouse yourself onto the hypnotizing jiggles of that porcelain flesh, making you indulge and draw yourself onto the red and soon enough, it wouldn’t be that long to meet it.

“I’m going to fucking c-cum in this tight, slutty, bratty pussy, alright, princess? Be sure to take it all because fuck—t-this pussy is literally the best!”

“Yes, da—daddy! Please c-cum in me—finally, p-please—ahh—mmfhh!” You continue your rapid thrusts as your fingers coursed its way onto her mouth, making her suck it as she wantonly savors your fingers like it’s your beloved shaft, sensually licking every inch clean as you buried your whole length in her, unable to pull back but just give in.

Series of thick shots flooded her velvety walls, causing her to moan on your fingers as she can feel the warmth of your semen coating each inch of her flesh white and god, she’s also in a state of bliss on how well she is filled by you. She continues sucking and you continue depositing, even thrusting slowly to extend your orgasm further and as it dies down, you leisurely pulled out—and of course, Yena whimpered because she feels empty without your whole length ravaging inside her—of the tightness of her core, a little exhausted because of your harsh work against her sopping wet cunt and what an incredible sight it bestowed you: her freshly-fucked folds full of your cum, some of it even leaking out of her due to the stupendous amount of volume deposited in it.

Guess her highfalutin came down on a sullied conclusion; it was an incredible display of a steamy session, much likely to be cherished as the once boisterous, sex-filled room has now toned down onto tranquil and silence—mostly just heavy breaths can be heard but it is close on silence.

Yena falls limp onto the bed, her back rests as her lips tremble within her voice, “Y-you c-came so much, daddy—i-it’s so thick a-and warm—hah…”

“Now, are you satisfied, princess?”

“More than t-that, daddy…” Yena voices out her utter satisfaction as her needs are now fulfilled by you and right after, she beams a bright smile onto you which makes you faintly grin in response due to her contagious happiness. 

“Also, I’m s-sorry about acting like that earlier, daddy…” You know her apologies aren’t sincere but at the same time, they are—it’s not sincere in a way that she’ll act like a spoiled brat again someday, but now, you’re glad that you’ve fucked your way to teach her a lesson—living the new, ephemeral disposition of hers that’s down-to-earth. You would treasure this truly, but Yena, on the other hand, isn’t in the same shoes with you.

“I want some more, daddy—we can experiment on anything we want, tonight because—” Yena’s hands averted onto your jaw, making you face her as she continues, “—I’m all yours, daddy.”

Seems like she needed more than what you’ve given her and with that, you’re giving her anything to the point of no-return.

[cinnamoneve]

𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚.

atelophobia \ əˌtɛləˈfəʊbɪə \ (n.) - the fear of imperfection of not being good enough.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru's been valued only what he could offer others, until he met you. ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: more of a self indulgent character study to get back into the swing of writing !!! pls enjoy <3 ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :3

satoru gojo held many roles and titles in his life. he was a son, a sorcerer, teacher, role model, a special grade, the honored one, the strongest. the strongest. whatever that was supposed to mean.

he knew what it meant, sure, but the lines were blurred a bit around the parameters of what exactly his role was. he was satoru, gojo-san, gojo-sensei, and whatever sweet term of endearment you thought up for him. between that, satoru’s identity and purpose got muddled as the titles and meaning were ever-changing.

he didn’t feel a certain way about any of it, really. or so he thought. the one accolade satoru couldn't claim was being totally indifferent.

you almost admired that aspect of him. how his nose scrunched up when something he eats tastes off, how he played with his blindfold when he needed to get something off his chest. or maybe, it was the way his eyebrow twitched ever-so-slightly if you pronounce a word in a funny way. there is no subtle, subdued, or nonchalant bone in your boyfriend’s body. everything on his mind was said before his mouth even opened.

because of that, you knew satoru was happy to be home by the way he refused to leave your side. it’s rare he gets a decent break like this; his students had a week-long retreat in kyoto that he’d meet them at eventually. for now, he had some small ends to tie up on the homefront that he was dragging out so he could stay a bit longer with you.

satoru sat on the edge of the empty bath, admiring you as you did your skincare at the vanity. if his legs weren’t long enough to touch the ground, you imagined he’d be swinging them back and forth as he gushed about his students.

“...and maki beat mai in a one-on-one. again.”

you rolled your eyes as you clipped hair away from your forehead, “even i could’ve predicted that.”

“i don’t know why those two always find each other if they’ve got such a grudge,” 

you patted your face dry.

“it must be a sister thing,” you chuckled.

“something like that, i guess,”

“you’re not upset you’re missing it?”

satoru studied you in silence as he let the question linger a bit more. part of him was. maybe more than just part of him. he let out a hum as he thought about it.

“not really,” he concluded, “i want to be here,”

you smiled at him through the mirror as you caught his eyes. 

“it’s okay to be both, babe. be as selfish as you want,”

was it really okay for him to be selfish? nobody had ever told him before that the choice was his. even if it always was.

satoru had spent a lot of time being what other people said he should be. unfortunately, most aspects of his personality and day-to-day life were not decided by him. maybe it was atonement for the way he acts. could it be his fault? is it punishment for the gift he didn’t ask for? it’d be rich to still call it a gift. it was more like a plague, or a curse. something he had to bear and live with, master and hone. 

it was admired, it was hated. it controlled him, he controlled it.

everything he was, fundamentally, came from what he could provide.

satoru didn’t realize how exhausting it was until you came along and shared the burden with him. silently, lovingly, and effortlessly. maybe he was a little selfish. was it selfish to miss his kids in kyoto while having the love of his life in front of him? or maybe it was selfish to relish in the time at home and drag it out for one more minute with you.

being in between is lonely. 

but the loneliness will pass, just like time always does anyway. and being lonely with you is still being with you in the first place.

satoru sank into the empty bath, letting his body fold as he lay across the width of it. he sighs heavily and smiles, closing his eyes. his drama was unsurprising–all you can do is shake your head and take his place on the edge of the bath.

he peers up at you.

“selfish, huh?” 

you place your hand on his knee, thumbing over where it bends as a way to soothe him.

“mhm, why not?”

satoru tilted his head back, just barely, looking up at the bathroom fan as he tried to think about what to say next.

“i’d like to stay like this for a bit longer,”

you smile warmly at him.

“in the bath? clothed like this?”

it wasn’t about the empty bath. or the clothes he was wearing. just like how it wasn’t about him learning about your skincare routine. it was never about the stories of his students, or the way you always checked in on megumi. nor was it about how you took all of his clothes when you were cold, knew how he liked his coffee in the morning, or the way he made sure the bed was nice and warm before you joined him there.

it was so much more in so much less. in his worst moments, he was in a warm bed with you, hearing you talk about your refreshingly mundane day as you drew a nonsensical pattern on his chest.

everything he was came from what he could provide, right? that’s how it always was.

what he inherited preceded his name, his personality, and everything nuanced about him. nearly everyone in his life cared more about his ability than anything else about him. he’s convinced people knew his technique more than they knew his favorite color. the music he liked. his favorite food. trivial things overshadowed by what he could provide. 

but the only thing he had to provide to you was love.

to you, who he was came from what he could provide. and that was pure, warm love.

he was matching pajamas, two cups of coffee waiting to be filled, two toothbrushes sitting together on the counter. he was the seat warmer that he always turned on for you when you rode in the passenger seat, along with the playlist he made with songs you listened to together.

it was refreshing. 

with you, he wasn’t satoru gojo. not the strongest, not gojo-sensei, not a special grade sorcerer. 

he was him. and it was always enough for you. 

satoru when you were doubled over from another lame joke he told, begging him to stop making you laugh so hard.

baby when he had a particularly hard day at work, holding onto your body on the couch like detaching from it would kill him.

sweetie when he was being ridiculous, dramatic, and over-the-top, watching a smile tug at your lips as he intentionally got on your nerves when you tried to hide it.

honey when you didn’t feel well, and he got to spoil you more than you’d ever let him before.

among a million other things. but never what you expected of him. 

most importantly, and his favorite, was when you called him love. is that what you really saw him as? it made him melt. the jujutsu world hardened him, but you turned a blind eye to that. it was enough to make him fall in love every day all over again.

what a privilege, he thought, to be so calloused and still love.

“yeah, in the bath like this,” he muttered.

you slid in next to him, folding your body too so the two of you were sitting in the cold, empty bath with your legs sticking out of the side.

“well, i’ll join you then, love”

there it was. he hummed contently. 

satoru felt like for a majority of his life, he felt like he had to search for his other half. seemingly, he was whole all along.

all content © cinnamoneve 2024. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

[creampie-capital]

║My Ex, The Oni║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║21,113

The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.

Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 82PIGEON on X (Twitter) Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)

Steam wafts off your skin, a transparent whisp that floats from the intense heat emanating from your body. Soaked hair sticks to your limbs before you lean forward and wrap a towel around them to flip over. 

The ringing continues from your bedroom, blaring like scratches on the walls that spur you quickly exit from the bathroom. 'Don Juan,' his nickname since forever, flickers on the screen with the image of his stupid face. 

Fixing your robe, you answer and place it on the speaker. "Hello!!! I've been callin' for the past ten minutes." Rafe drags his voice out, stretching his vowels in the way he loves to when he's irritated. 

"I was in the shower, babe. You already know eight o'clock is shower time." You jeer and respond in the same manner. 

"Right, right." His response is calmer now as he releases a deep sigh. "Sorry, It's just busy at work, but I needed to know if you were busy tomorrow. My parents are visiting, and they want to see you. I know last time they were kind of rude, but that is just how they play around. My entire family is blunt like that, so I guess it's just in blood, haha." 

In an instant, you're biting your lip while your dominant hand curls into a fist. That a**hole, how many times do you have to tell him that you're not going to meet them again after last time? They blatantly insulted you and passed it off as jokes and gags in front of your face and his presence. 

You were surprised you were able to grin and bear it, taking their backhanded compliments and disrespect with awkward laughs and bows of your head. Not again; you're not going to take it again with Rafe sitting right by your side with silence on his tongue. 

"Rafe, come on. I've already told you I'm not going to see them again unless I get a genuine apology." 

"How can they give you a genuine apology if you won't see them again." 

He silences you in that moment as you stop mid-movement from grabbing your panties. "Touché, Don Juan." Rafe had a point. However, your body is engraved with pettiness. The hurt and humiliation they gave you had riddled your very bones with hatred. 

Forgiving them feels like losing the battle and accepting their disrespect. It's been one of your negatives since a young age, bearing rage and grudges even if they affected your closest relationships. Even your therapist struggles to help you settle those internal grievances. 

"I've talked with them, you know. It's hard for them to understand that their bluntness is not something everyone appreciates." You're both silent after his words; the only noise coming from the club is the muted music from the club he bartends at. 

Standing in the middle of your room, with only your panties and damp robe on, you find yourself fighting your resolve as water dries off your skin from the a/c. Now that the heat cools into a mellowness, even your anger somewhat subsides. 

Rafe then cuts the silence as he speaks. "It's only for coffee at Selena's. With the holiday coming up, they wanted to see you and me before they leave. And that means a lot, you know, the fact that they want to see you again." 

Ugh, you're starting to feel bad for constantly rejecting their invites. Only slightly bad, however, because you cannot forget those snide remarks that yeiled your blood to boil. Though...maybe they weren't that bad, but you took them the wrong way because as soon as someone offends you, you close off and refuse to listen anymore. 

However, that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. 

"Fine. I'll come but only for an hour. But if they act the same way they did last time, then I'm out. I'm not just going to sit there and take everything while you act like a coward. Got it?" 

"Got it." He murmurs while you hear the sound of his clothes shifting. "And again, I'm sorry about how I acted last time. It was cowardly, and I didn't consider your feelings." 

With a nod of your head, you part your lips to respond; however, a ring from the foyer of your apartment solidifies you in your spot. Immediately, you're on the defense, body tense and eyes narrowed. 

"Hold up, someone's at my door." You whisper before grabbing your phone, muting it, and stalking close to your door. The emergency services are already dialed, only awaiting the call button in case something goes wrong. 

Pressing a button on your apartment intercom, the blank screen flashes to show the video imaging outside your door, and you cannot believe who stands in front of your entrance with a smug a** grin. 

"Oh, my f*cking god." You seethe with the blood inside of your heating up before unmuting your call. "It's nobody important. I call you back; love you, babe." 

"'kay. Be safe, and I love you too. I finish at two, so if you're still up, I call you later." 

Ending the call, you undo the towel in your hair to throw it aside and unlock your door. With a harsh tug, you open it with a deep glare. "What the hell are you doing here, and how the hell do you know where I live?"

Kohaku stands there with that stupid a** grin and glint in his heterochromia eyes. "Come on, can't a guy just say hi?" 

He looks the same as he did in high school, only more muscular as his clothes stretched across his limbs. His hair is still that ink-black slop with the strip of white strands, only longer and slightly styled. 

The little horns on his forehead remain as cute as ever, as much as you hate to admit it. Piercings riddle his pointed ears, and you wonder how he got them done when he's always been a little b*tch about the sensitivity of his earlobe. 

"Not even on my grave would I let you even say hi. What the f*ck do want?" You sneer, though it does nothing to wipe off his grin. 

With a snap of his fingers, he points them at you like finger guns. "First off, you look cute in that robe, but it's a little too short. Not that I mind~." Your face heats up with the boiling of your blood. "Second of all," He suddenly twists around and picks up a...a little girl!? "-I need you to watch this sprat for a couple of months."

He hands her to you, holding her up from under her armpits like he's attempting to hand over a stray pet. The kid doesn't even seem phased, staring with a bored(?) expression as though nothing is going on in her head. 

She's small, maybe five or six, wearing an oversized pink sweater and knee-high black socks with beat-up sneakers. Her eyes, her eyes hold two different colors, one icy blue and the other lime green. She had her own pair of horns that matched her tan skin with the tips slightly peachy red. Even her hair was the same ink black with the one area in the front white from his genetic disorder. It was long, down to her ankles, and unruly. Tangles are everywhere, and the frizz overtakes her head like lions made. 

"Excuse me...? Ex-f*cking-scuse me!?" The roar of your voice was louder than you meant, and you knew in an instant that your neighbors were going to complain. "F*ck, f*ck." You whisper to yourself while opening the door wider and pointing inside. "Get in, quick." 

That grin grew as he waltzed in and immediately began inspecting your place. 

Shutting the door and locking it, you turn back with your arms crossed and a wicked glare. "You got some explaining to do because what in your right mind thinks you can just waltz up in here after everything you did and think I would do you favor? Much less-" You point to the kid he's still carrying. "The favor being taking care of a brat from when you cheated on me?" 

Finally, Kohaku's smile drops as he frowns awkwardly. "Well...when you put it like that, it makes me look like a really bad guy." 

"You are the bad guy." It seems your words nicked a nerve as his blue and green eyes flickered to your face, and his frown withered. 

The Oni set the girl down on your laminated wooden floors before swiping a hand across his mouth and looking away. "It wasn't like that. You know I would never cheat on you. I just-" 

You cannot even handle hearing anymore. The sound of his voice that you used to love trying to justify the way he broke your heart is something you can't bear. "You just what? You got some f*cken freedom in college and went off to do your own thing? Got to finally get away from my 'overbearingness' and 'clinginess' so you could f*ck around with, how did you put it, 'woman that wasn't like me'?" 

Kohaku inhaled a deep breath and finally met your gaze as he placed an open hand on his broad chest. "I was childish and selfish. People were treating me like someone important, and I let it go to my head. I said things I didn't mean-" 

Tears are burning in your eyes, burning like poison, as you step forward to grab the front of his shirt and tug. "You called me in the middle of the night while you were at a party just to tell me things were over! You had been neglecting me for weeks, and when you finally called, when I could finally hear your voice again, it was just to break up so you could f*ck some skank without a guilty conscious!"

He suddenly grips your wrist, the heat of his touch almost shocking you like electricity as he tears off your hold. "The way I broke up with you was f*cked up, I admit it. I apologize for that. But at least I had the f*cken decently to break up instead of cheating on you, instead of hiding it behind your back. I loved you enough to not do that sh*t to you." 

"...What!?" You laugh in disbelief while yanking your arm out of his grasp. "Loved me enough!? If you had even loved me, you wouldn't have been ignoring me when you entered college! You wouldn't have stopped answering my calls! For f*cks sake, if you had really loved me, you wouldn't have broken up with me for some one-night stand when I was your girlfriend you promised to marry!" 

Banging erupts from your living room wall, most likely from your neighbor to tell you to shut the f*ck up. It was already late, people were trying to sleep, and you were having a breakdown. Now that you could hear the silence of the apartment and feel the blood pumping in your veins, you then also realized tears were snaking down your cheeks. 

"Damn." You whisper and turn your head away to march towards the kitchen. "I can't deal with you sober." It didn't take long for you to pour yourself a shot and downing it before grabbing a beer can and gulping half so the effects could hit you sooner. 

From the entranceway, Kohaku says something to the girl before making his way over. You don't even look at him, leaning against the counter as the can hangs loosely between your fingers. So many years have passed since then, yet the wound of it all remains unhealed. He was your first love, someone you gave yourself to wholeheartedly. 

You loved him with everything you had and believed that you both would go to the same college together, then marry later on, have a family, and grow old together. Truthfully, you should have known better; you romanticized that relationship. You both were just kids from a small town, not realizing how big the world was. 

Well, you didn't. Because he was a grade above you, he went off to university first, and that's when he got a taste of what the real world was like. That's when he experienced so many things that a small town just can't provide. 

He had his eyes opened while you remained blissfully ignorant. 

Now that time has passed, you have experienced those feelings firsthand. The world was so different; there was so much going on that you would have never encountered if you stayed in that town. You get it; you get that you were just holding him back. 

But that doesn't stop the hurt from becoming any less painful. It's been how many years, yet the feeling of betrayal still feels so fresh it's almost pathetic.

Were you the one who was more in love than he was? Is that why you're still hurt after all these years, even though you've already moved on? 

"I'm sorry."

His voice right now is no longer pissing you off; it's just making you feel even more pathetic. You don't know if you ever quell the hatred from how he broke up with you, and that's sad. He did the adult thing and ended it instead of just lying behind your back. 

How he went about it was wrong, but he did the right thing and left the relationship. You should be over it by now, but with his reappearance, those feelings have returned.

"...Don't... You're not sorry. You're just tryna make me feel better, and it's only make me feel worse." You murmur while covering your mouth and burping slightly from the carbonation. "So... who is the kid? Gotta be your daughter 'cause she's got that same stupid a** white streak." 

Kohaku laughs in his throat before leaning against the wall on his side and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You used to love it." He teases, and you can tell he really is trying to lighten the mood, but you don't want any of that. "Well, today is actually the first time I've met her." 

"Oh." You release like a breath of air before turning your head to face him. "Do tell." 

He rubs the back of his neck with the leather of his jacket, squeaking from his movements. "That girl from college, we actually started dating after we...you know." 

Something stings in your heart, but it drifts away in slow rolls as you breathe it out. "Wow. I guess it wasn't just some one-night stand, then. Don't know if it makes me feel better or worse, though."  

He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. "Well, a couple of years later, she cheated on me, so we broke up. After that, I transferred to a different university and never saw her again or remained in contact with her. That was until this morning, she just showed up with the girl and some papers and declared I had full custody. She told me that the girl would be my full responsibility and I could do whatever I wanted without getting my ex involved. Then she just left." 

You laugh under your breath. "Drops the responsibility on to you, huh, and now you're doing the same to me. And that girl isn't even mine." Whether you meant to or not, the last part poured from your lips with petty abhorrence. 

It was your dream to have a child, to share a child with him that was from the both of you. Someone else got to have that dream, yet they threw it away so carelessly. 

Kohaku stands to his full stature and steps forward. His height grows, and you remember the enormous height difference that you used to love. Somehow, he feels even taller than you remember. 

"I'm sorry." He exclaims and places an open hand on your back. Was his hands always this big? It feels like he could cover so much space. "I'm really sorry for doing that. I'm not in the position to take care of her, nor is it safe for a kid to be around me. There's no one else I could think of but you to ask for this favor." 

You lick your lips and stare into those multi-colored eyes. "Safe? And you couldn't ask anyone else's in your life? No other friends or girlfriends? Not even your dad?"

He removes his hand to place it against his chest as though he were wounded. "First of all, aren't you honored that you're the only one I can think of after all these years?" 

You give him a deadpan expression while pointing a finger at him. "No." 

"You're literally no fun." He whines. "And for your information, Dad would make things more complicated than they would need to be. I don't need that right now when I've got to figure things out." 

A laugh ripples from your mouth and echoes out. "Ahh, your dad would grab you by the horn and go and on about family values 'till your ear would fall off. Then he'd put that girl to work on the farms. That old fart wouldn't miss any opportunity for free labor." 

Even speaking of it brings forth memories of helping around the farm because you were too nice to say no. He always managed to keep you around for hours until your mother would come to get you. You'd be all dirty, sweaty, and (tanned/burned) from being under the sun for so long. 

You hated those times, but they are memories you will never forget. They were part of your childhood and adolescence, and they did give you some muscle that helped you do well in sports.

Sighing, you lean forward to rest your arms on the counter and your cheek on your wrist as the dizziness comes forth. "How is your old man?" 

"Same old, same old." He responds and maneuvers so he's resting his behind against the counter and elbows on it to hold up his weight. "He'll honestly outlive us from his sheer stubbornness." 

That statement couldn't be any more true. If you were the queen of pettiness, then his father was the king of stubbornness. Whatever his dad decided on, he would stick with it to the end, even if he were in the complete wrong. 

As much as you love the big world and the big city, there is that nostalgic feeling of sitting on his father's porch in that big squeaky rocking chair and drinking a fresh glass of lemonade. It would be nice to do that again and stare out onto the massive field of his farmland, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. 

The same four country songs always seemed to play from his beat-up radio, yet he refused to let anyone change the station. You used to hate that and dread even the sound of a guitar. Now, you find yourself missing it. 

"I miss your batty old dad." You state, mumbling under your breath and blinking heavily. 

Kohaku laughs and nods his head with a slight grin. "As much as that old man gets on my nerves, I miss him too." 

Nothing more is stated; instead, sharing a deep silence that would have been awkward to others but was comforting to both of you. 

Surprisingly, you were looking at the past and yearning for the simpler times. Doing so usually would just leave you aggravated, but tonight, it was pacifying. Life is always so busy, and you like that it never leaves you a moment to dwell on the past and what could have been. 

Maybe you just needed to get those feelings off your chest. After the breakup, you were never in contact with him again. The anger from the heartbreak had you crumble up all those feelings and throw them down in a void. 

They were a weakness, something you refused to give in to. But the anger remained, and questions you always wanted to ask were stuck in the back of your head. They didn't push forward, they didn't take precedent, they were just there, waiting. 

Sniffling, you stand up and step over to the sink to dump the rest of your beer. "What is her name?" 

"Simat? If I could name her, it would have been something cooler." 

You angle your head back to sneer at him. "Don't kid yourself. You would have named her something ridiculous like your Gamertag. I don't even want to hear it." If there is one thing he should never get his hands on, it's naming. 

Abpruplty, your phone rings, and you see Rafe on the screen. You didn't realize how close it was to one o'clock. 

"Ouu, your boyfriend." Kohaku teases as he snatches your phone to look at the picture. "Hmm, he's decent looking and has good nose genetics. However, you could do better. And what's with that name? Don Juan is so ridiculous. And you're the one saying I suck at coming up with names." He utters with a finger on his chin as though he were profoundly contemplating. 

"A**hole." You exclaim and snatch back your cellular device, only for the call to end. "It's a joke nickname from our friend group. And as an ex-boyfriend, you have no right to judge my boyfriend."

The Oni falls back comically while holding a hand against his chest, tugging at it as though he were having a heart attack. "You wound me, (Y/n). As an ex-boyfriend, I have every right. I have to make sure the men you get with aren't better looking than me!" 

His response yields another deep sigh, and you shift your weight onto one leg and cross your arms beneath your bust. "Get the f*ck out of my apartment." 

"What about-" 

"I will do you this favor one time, but after, don't ever come back asking for anything. Don't ever come back, period. You're from my past; you don't belong in my future." With that said, you stride past the muscular man and back to the living room, where the little girl sits playing with a big Orc doll. 

Kohaku follows you around your couch and kneels in front of the girl. He places his big hands on her knees and gains her attention. "I have to go now. I'm sorry for leaving your side, but it's not safe at my place. I'll be coming around every few days to see you, okay?"

Simat doesn't speak, but she nods her head before resuming her attention on her big green doll. The older Oni appears to be observing her appearance for a few seconds before standing up and placing a hand on her head to ruffle her already disorderly hair. 

With one last look, he begins making his way to your front door, with you following behind. "Should I give you my email so you can notify me when you're coming to see her or-" 

"No, I've already got your number," Kohaku states before winking and exiting the front door. "By the way, you need a new robe. I can see your a**cheeks, not that I mind~!"

"Kohaku, you pervert! Wait, how!? I changed my number after high school!" You question in the hallway, but he refrains from responding, only waving his hand until he disappears around the corner. 

With a defeated sigh, you close the door and lock it. Now, it's just the two of you alone in your apartment. It's awkward, and you cannot help the painful feelings. Resentment fills your veins, a nasty bitterness that corrodes your insides. 

You have to remind yourself that this child is an innocent bystander, someone who had no say in what had transpired. It was not her fault she was born, much less from your ex-boyfriend. It's just the way things were. 

Finally, you were able to shake yourself up enough to go to your room, grab some undersized clothes that she could fit into, and return. 

"Simat?" She slowly looks up from her doll and stares with her heterochromia eyes. From the moment you met her, that dead expression has remained, not once going away. She's not crying for Mommy or Daddy; she's not afraid of some stranger standing in front of her. 

It's eerie, almost scary, and it slowly eats away the corroding of resentment. "Do you want to shower or sleep?" You ask her softly, yet she only stares at you with those lifeless eyes. If it were not for the slight movement of her chest from breathing, you would have thought she was some broken, dirty doll thrown out. 

"Okay, umm. Take these clothes and change in the bathroom. I'll make the bed for you." Without wasting time, she stands up to take the clothes and make her way down the hall to the bathroom. You didn't tell her where it was, but she must have been looking around while you and Kohaku were talking. 

She looks pitiful; you cannot help but feel bad for her. 

With her changing, you push forward the coffee table to pull out the bed. It was an expensive couch you bought a while ago for when your girlfriends were too drunk to go home. With their picky choices, you were able to find this one that they actually liked, so it should be good enough for the girl. 

It already has clean sheets, so you go to the closet to grab the piles of pillows and blankets you have before making the bed. Simat returns soon after in your PJs before placing her sweater, socks, and shoes in her little pink bag. 

"Do you want to watch something or..." Simat only stares at you as she stands in her spot. With a slight narrowing of your eyes, you point your hand that had the remote at the bed. "Go lay down." Instantly, the girl listens, grasping the blanket to help haul herself on top. "Simat, get off for a second." Without a complaint, she does so, sliding off and standing right next to it with no change in her expression. 

The pity you felt had intensified, and you suddenly regretted the way you had spoken to her earlier. She seems very closed off for a young girl when she should be expressing herself at this age. Even more, she's incredibly obedient, following orders without a word or complaint. 

"Come sit here for a second. I want to talk to you." The girl listens, climbing back up before crossing her legs and holding the doll against her chest. 

Slowly, you sit on the edge and lick your lips while trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry for all the yelling you heard earlier. I was just really upset, but that is no excuse. My name is (Y/n). I was your daddy's friend from a long time ago." No words, just a blank stare. "Uh, you'll be staying with me for a while, but your father will be here every few days. I don't have a daughter, so I'm not sure how to take care of you, but if there are things that you don't like, then don't be afraid to tell me. I don't know how things were at your mom's, but here you have every option you want, whether it's if you want to watch TV or not. Okay?" 

No response; her nose barely even flares as she breathes. "To make things easier, nod your head for okay or yes. Shake for no. Okay?" For a second, she seems to hesitate before finally she moves her head up and down a little. 

It feels like a small victory, and you cannot help but smile. "I'm not good at this stuff, but let's learn together, okay?" Again, it takes her a few seconds as though she is thinking about it, but she nods. "Alright. I'm going to put a kid's movie on, but if you don't like it, then here is the remote. You can stay up however long you want for now. In the morning, we'll have breakfast, and then we'll go from there."

Slowly, she nods her head, which spurs you to softly pat her head before standing up and pulling the covers over her lap. "Goodnight, Simat. I'll see you in the morning." The girl doesn't say anything, only sinking into the pillows and staring at the large TV screen.  

Without making much noise, you go to your own bed only to pass out once your head hits the pillow. You hadn't even changed out of your robe, and you're too tired from the emotional rollercoaster no one but your ex can make you ride. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

In the morning, you are woken up by the ringing of your phone. Your eyes are still closed, and your mind is half awake as you answer. "Hmm." 

"'Morning, babe. I'm almost done getting ready. Then I'm going to come get you to go to Selena's." Rafe's voice comes out from the device, and you hum in response. 

However, after a few seconds, your head shoots up as your eyes widen. Sh*t, how are you going to explain to him that you're babysitting your ex-boyfriend's kid after no contact for like six years? Rafe is already super jealous and not trusting of any males in your life. His parents would be even worse if you showed up out of the blue with some kid who wasn't their son's offspring. 

Dammit 

"Sh*t babe, I forgot I've already made plans with my sister." You lie straight through your teeth as you sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your sister isn't even in the same country, busy on her own holiday voyage that he hopefully doesn't know about.

"What?" Rafe questions and scoffs. "Come on, can't you just take a raincheck? You keep skipping out every time they want to see you, and I already told them you were coming last night. You know how it's going to look when you cancel again." 

It does look bad that you are ignoring them, but so what? They were so incredibly rude last time, and seeing them would ruin your day, even if they want to apologize. "It's not my fault they found it so funny to call me slurs and laugh about it in front of my face. I can take a slur as a joke, but they weren't joking. I'll see them when I want to see them. I'm getting ready; I'll call you later." Rafe begins saying something, but you do not even let him get his words out, quickly hanging up and collapsing onto your back. 

Staring up at your ceiling, you take deep breaths to calm your vexation before slowly sitting up. Your back and neck hurt from falling asleep in that awkward position without moving. You must have been exhausted to sleep like the dead.

After taking a moment to center yourself entirely, you get up and open the door to step down the hallway and into the living room quietly. The TV is still on, playing the Lorax halfway through as you peek over the couch. 

Simat was awake, hugging her Orc doll while watching the movie. "Good morning, Simat. Did you sleep?" She looks over before slowly nodding her head. "Are you hungry?" Another nod. "Okay, come. Go sit at the counter over there and wait while I make something." 

She does need to be told twice, obediently following orders as she crawls out of bed and shuffles to the bar stools. You had to hold back your laughter as you watched her struggle to get up, climbing like a little monkey. 

"Alright, let's see..." you murmur while opening the fridge. You look through its contents before removing some strawberries, butter, and milk and setting them on the counter. "I'm going to make pancakes. Are you okay with that?" Another nod. 

Silently, you begin pulling out all the other ingredients you need before setting up the skillet. Simats eyes are watching you the whole time, and you wonder if she's just curious or if she watches your every move out of fear to watch for danger. 

Her silence and obedience already strike you as odd, but it might not be far from a stretch to assume she was abused or, more so, neglected. There is not much you can do as an outsider; she's not even your daughter. But for now, you can just try to give her options and help her understand that it's safe in this place even though you are a stranger. 

"When I was a kid, my mom used to make pancakes that looked just like characters from my favorite anime. Have you heard of Sailor Moon?" When you turn, you see that she shakes her head no. "Really? We should watch it some time then. It's an older series, so the graphics are not that great, but I prefer it still over the remake. Just something about the new one; I just don't like it." 

With the batter mixed, you begin pouring small pools onto a hot skillet. "You know, when I don't like things, I won't do them. If I don't like it, if it hurts me or would make me unhappy, I don't do it." Flipping a pancake, you reach up in the cupboard to grab a plate. "I want you to understand that you are safe here to express yourself. You won't get hurt or yelled at if you say no. I will respect you enough to listen to your feelings, but I need you to respect me enough to listen too, okay?" 

You don't turn your head to look at her, but you can feel her nod. You're unsure if she is truly listening to you or taking your words seriously. Hopefully, she'll keep your words in mind while she stays here. 

After the food was done, you cut up some strawberries and lathered the pancakes in butter before presenting them to the girl and giving her two different bottles of syrup, one with a rich taste and another with a more robust flavor. 

She didn't eat or even lift her fork, only continuing to watch you as you made your way around the bar and took a seat next to her. Her eyes observed as you grabbed the first bottle, poured it over your food, and began cutting it up. Once you had put the bottle down, she grabbed the one you had and poured it over her plate almost the same way you did (dousing it/light covering it). 

Only when you started eating did she tear off a small piece and eat. It was both cute, as though she were mimicking you, but sad as you wondered if she wanted to make sure it was safe to eat or if she even had the right to eat. 

Silently, you both ate together until you finished and stood up to begin washing the dishes. Simat was still eating, but when you turned to check up on her, you noticed she was eating slowly and took smaller bites than before. 

"If you're full, do not force yourself to eat more than what you can handle. I won't yell or hurt you if you are done. And you're not wasting food; you just can't eat anymore." It seemed your words were exactly what she needed to hear as she dropped her fork and leaned back, seeming to pat her belly softly. 

It was too cute, like an arrow to the heart. "Good girl," you told her, then took her plate, emptied the rest away, and finished the clean-up. 

After a few minutes of cleaning, you heard the chair scrape, and Simat came over to the kitchen. She stood right by your side, with her eyes never straying from your figure. Is food the way into this little girl's heart? 

"Woo, I hate washing dishes." You joke with a little laugh before turning to the kid. That unruly hair needs to be taken care of, and she's even got some syrup on her chin that's shining in the light. "Alright, let's bathe you. Come follow me." 

Obediently, she follows you down the hall to the bathroom, where you turn the shower handle, and water bursts into the clean, porcelain basin. "Do you want hot water and bubbles?" she nods. "Good; I love bubbles, too." 

As the tub fills with an obscene amount of bubbles, you begin to help her undress. Other than her matching markings beneath the eyes she obtained from her father, there don't appear to be any scars or markings. 

It was a sigh of relief; you don't think you could hold in your anger if there were physical signs of abuse. She's not you're kid, she's not your daughter, but hurting any child in a manner was unacceptable. A slap here and there if a kid really needs discipline, but anything more would earn your fist in the parent's face. Every kid deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a kid. 

When Simat enters the tub, her attention is immediately stolen by the piles of bubbles, and she begins to play with them. She places them on her chin and cheeks, almost mimicking a beard that brings forth a laugh. 

For a second, she glances at you before returning it to the tub and adding more to her fake beard, the shape taking the form of a long wizard beard. "You make a good wizard. Should I buy you a cape and a wand?" Your joke, which you said more to yourself, had earned the child's gaze. Finally, those dead eyes hold a twinkle, a soft sparkle deep inside her colored irises. 

In an instant, you make a mental note to buy a wand and a cape immediately after this. 

While she continued to play, you washed her lengthy hair, which was way thicker than you expected. You thought you used a lot of conditioner, but this girl gave you a run for your money. You're going to have to buy more while she stays here, in fact, you need to buy lots of things. 

Not that you mind, shopping is fun, and even more fun when you have that Christmas bonus your boss gave everyone for the holidays. 

Once the water begins to turn lukewarm and the bubbles cease, you help her out and give her one of your robes. It was too oversized for her, but she looked cute in it. The two of you enter your bedroom, where you lift and sit her at the edge of your bed while you go scouring through your clothes for something around her size. 

There isn't any underwear that would fit, so you put down a pair of black biker shorts that shrunk in the wash. Even most of your shirts, other than your office clothes, are inappropriate for her age, so for now, you give her one of your crop top sweaters that is just long enough to reach her hips. 

"Alright, you can change into these and then meet me in the bathroom so we can take care of your hair." She nods and reaches for the clothes while you exit and shut the door for privacy. While she does that, you'll brush your teeth and do your own hair since it dried awkwardly last night. 

It's still unbelievable what is happening. After six years, your first love shows up on your doorstep to drop off a daughter he didn't even know he had; what a joke. It feels like a joke, a cruel joke being played. 

When you were just a teen, you used to dream about your future and imagine all these different scenarios of what your life would be like together. You'd probably have a couple of kids, all taking after their father, considering that Oni's blood was seriously dominant. 

Simat really does look like her father other than her tan skin, which made her eyes really pop. There's a knock at the door, and you tell her to come in just as you finish (throwing your hair up/pinning it back). 

She looks charming in your clothes, almost looking like you, frankly. Waving her over, she takes a step in front of you by the sink as you reach for a brush. "It doesn't seem like anyone took care of your beautiful hair, so I'm going to brush it and then cut a little. Is that okay?" Another nod so you diligently get to work. 

Her tangles had mostly calmed down after you soaked it in detangler, so you didn't have to struggle much. However, the ends were really poor, with a considerable amount of split ends, so you had to cut off quite a few inches. Those precious locks that reached her ankles were now just a little past her bum, but now that you see curls coming in, you realize she had curly hair. 

No one seemed to take care of it, so there's no way those curls would have flourished. Luckily, you had some curl cream that would do wonders for the shape. 

"I'm going to use the blow dryer, so be prepared for the loud noise, okay?" Simat nodded as she raised her hands to cover her face, which was too cute. For now, you put it on medium and scrunched her hair while drying it from below. 

"When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairstylist so bad. I thought I was so skilled when I gave all my dolls haircuts. Looking back at it now, I was actually pretty terrible, but my dad told me I was good enough to be a professional." You look at Simat in the mirror and see her daddy in every aspect. "Dads love their little girls very much. Sometimes, they're a little too overbearing, dictating everything we can and cannot do. I used to hate my dad, who always embarrassed me in front of my friends and never let me stay out late. But I look back on it and think how grateful I am that my father took my hate silently so that I could be protected." 

You don't know what Kohaku has been doing these past years or what he's up to, but the one thing you know is that he would be a good father. After all, he brought Simat here to put her safety above all else, even if it made it look like he was abandoning her. 

"Alright, you're all done! Look at these curls! You don't even know how much money girls spend just to get something similar." Simat lowers her hands to look in the mirror, and it is another arrow to the heart as she curiously raises her hair to play with the bounce. "Okay, go to the living room and finish your movie while I change."

You didn't even ask her a question, but she nodded her head and went down the hall. Slowly, she seems to be opening up, and hopefully, you can get her to be as comfortable as possible. 

After cleaning up and putting everything away, you change into jeans and a turtleneck before grabbing a jacket and making your way over to the kitchen, where you left your phone. There are a couple of missed calls from Rafe and a few missed texts from his parents, but you don't even want to see them, so you just swipe them away. 

To your surprise, there was a text from an unknown number.

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Arise sunshine, I hope u got ur beauty sleep in. I'll be busy today and tomorrow, so I won't be able to talk much throughout the day, but before she goes to bed, try to give me a call. I'd like to speak to her. 

Also, thanks again for taking care of her during my absence. I know it took u a lot to put aside everything and accept it, and I really appreciate that. No one is as reliable as u r. 💖 😘

◢

What a kissa**, trying to butter you to lessen your anger. Unfortunately, It's working. With a sigh, you lean against the wall and respond.

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Yeah, yeah.

So far, Simat's doing really well. She's still pretty nonverbal, but I have her nodding yes and shaking her head for no. It seems like your ex really neglected her, but I'm trying to get her to open up at her own pace. 

I'm going to take her shopping. I need to get her clothes that fit and some other necessities that the kid needs.

◢

To your surprise, right when you are about to put your cellular device away, it vibrates to show a reply from your ex. 

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Ur so responsible I'm envious😙😙

If there is one thing I miss, it's being coddled by u. It was nice to lay in bed and have u bring evryt to me.😪😵‍💫 

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Why do you still text like a teenage girl?

The amount of emojis you use makes me sick. Please get them off my screen before I block you and take your kid away.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

There is nothing against a grown man using abbreviations.

Stop being prejudiced (Y/n)😠🥶. U really need to fix that stereotyping.

+get Simat wtv she needs and get urself a little smth on the side. 

Ps. If u still like cherry panties and end up buying sum, pls send pics.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

First of all, I'm an independent woman, and I make good money, so I can buy whatever Simat and I want. 

SECOND OF ALL YOU LITTLE PERVERT

I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP!

DO NOT ASK FOR PANTY SHOTS UNLESS YOU'D LIKE MY BOYFRIEND TO HEAR ABOUT IT.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

I can fight.

◢

He is literally so damn obnoxious you cannot stand him. You're just going to leave him on read, but you will take your money, not because you need it. Who would give up free money? 

Shutting off your phone, you place it in your back pocket, grab your purse and keys from the nightstand, and then call out to the girl. "Come, Simat. We're going to go to the store and get you the things that you need." 

The kid turned to face you before glancing down at her doll and then back at you. "Yes, you can bring your doll. Just don't drop it, okay." she nods quickly before hopping off the bed and running up to you. 

With everything ready, you exit your front door and lock it with your keypad and fingerprint. Once that's done, the two of you make your way to the elevator, which requires a key card to operate, and begin your descent to the parking lot. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Simat didn't mind your music while on the ride; she seemed infatuated with the city, watching everything that could be seen. As she sits in the back seat, you give yourself a mental note to buy a booster seat as well. 

Due to the morning traffic, it took a little while to get to the mall, but you both made it safely and parked close to the entrance. With there being many people on a Saturday morning, you crouch down and meet the girl's gaze. 

"Do you want to hold my hand so you don't get lost in the crowd?" It didn't take much convincing for her to nod her head and stick out her left hand. With a smile, you grabbed it gently but held it firmly as the two of you entered. 

With the holiday coming up, it was a bit hectic with all the people there, though the discounts and sales were a nice bonus. First, you wanted to get everything Simat needed before you even looked at your favorite stores. 

Once you enter the mall and start looking at the things you like, you lose all sense of time and are there for hours. 

The little Oni held your hand in her own as she obediently followed you and stayed by your side. While you shopped and picked up clothes that looked in her size, she surveyed everything she could. She watched people like they were in a movie, almost like something she didn't see very often. 

After filling up your basket, it came to your favorite part: the try-on! Of course, you don't mean to take advantage of how obedient she is, but it is crucial that her clothes fit and look good. 

Sitting by the bench by the mirrors and dressing rooms, you giddily awaited every outfit. And you were not disappointed! Every fit looked perfect with her adorable face, cute baby horns, and gorgeous curly hair. Honestly, if you hadn't gotten the job you did, you could have pursued fashion. 

She looked good in everything, and you had to make sure to get a few onesies and animal sweatshirts. There was a hoodie with cat ears that she particularly liked looking at—geez, it was just absolutely adorable. 

Even though Kohaku pissed you off, you still sent him a few pictures of his daughter that you were sure he'd appreciate. 

With the clothes bought and paid for, you went to a store and let Simat look around. She seemed to like playdough and legos. Then, when coming across the stuffies, her eyes sparked on the dragon and wolf. Of course, they were a must, so you bought three each. 

The Oni refused to let them pack it up, so she carried her Orc doll, one dragon, and one wolf stuffed toy. It was both adorable and funny how she carried around these massive toys with a blank look on her face. 

Another snap of a picture, saved and sent. 

Now that her part of the shopping was done, you decided to skip a few unimportant stores since you've already been shopping for so long. It helped that you rented out one of the children's push carts that have a fake car attached to the front so Simat could sit down when she got tired. 

Surprisingly, it was nice shopping with Simat, although her obedience and non-verbal speech made it easy. You wonder what it would be like having your own child by your side to shop with. They'd probably be rowdy, complaining about being bored and exhausted from being on their feet.

And now that you're thinking about it, you don't even see having kids in the future, at least with Rafe. He's a good man; he makes you happy, and your relationship is decent and healthy. But right now, you can't see that far in the future with Rafe. You wonder if it's because your ex-boyfriend suddenly showed up again after six years to stir up your old feelings. It's hard to forget your first love when that was the person you believed wholeheartedly was yours forever. 

But just like before, you'll have to let him go as he is only in your life again for a short while. 

When the music quieted down, you were surprised to hear Simat's stomach growl. She even looked down, embarrassed. You told her that you were going to buy whatever was in your hand, and then you'd both get something to eat. 

It was bustling in the food court with so many people talking and so much general noise. Holiday music was blaring through the speakers while the rings and dings that food was ready echoed out. 

There's just something you love about places that are filled with vigor. Thankfully, Simat didn't seem to mind either as she rode in her little fake car. You got her some chicken tenders and fries and something simple for yourself since you wanted room for dinner, considering you both were eating a little later. For a dessert, though, you did decide to buy some cinnamon pretzels. 

They've been your favorite snack since forever, something you always get whenever you're shopping at the mall.

Just like this morning, she seemed to wait until you started eating before digging it, but when she started eating, she didn't stop until it was empty. Again, she was even patting her full belly like earlier; geez, it was so cute!

Arrow to the heart!

A couple of times, Rafe tried to call, but you texted him that you were busy, and eventually, you just shut your phone to have some space from him. As much as you love him, you don't want to see him questioning if you're hanging out with other men while you're trying to enjoy the outing with Simat. 

Once you both were done, you looked around a little more until an hour or two passed by, and then you decided it was time to move. You drove to the general store and bought the actual necessities Simat would need while also getting groceries and more toys. She got a few bubble blowers and bath playthings before you called it quits. 

If you'd let her, she'd probably grab the entire bubble toy section. 

Now that everything was purchased, you began the drive home with her new booster seat. Only a few minutes into the drive, she had fallen asleep against the door. You had to wait until a stop to take a picture of her mouth open and arms draped by the side. 

You wonder if she felt safe enough to fall asleep in your presence. Most neglected children would probably stay awake for survival, so seeing her ease up like this was a blessing, 

For the rest of the drive, you took your time with the music calm and on low. Oddly enough, this has probably been one of the most gratifying off days you've had. It was peaceful and fun...something you've been missing from life for a while now. 

Pulling into the underground parking lot, you came to a stop and softly called out to the girl. She jolted awake quickly, blue and green eyes wide open as she assessed her surroundings before rapidly calming down and her expression resuming the usual blankness. 

"Hey, girl. Did you have a good nap?" She slowly nodded her head while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "We are back now, but if you are still sleepy, you can finish your nap when we get upstairs." With another nod, you both exited the vehicle, grabbed all the bags, and made your way to the elevator. 

With everything you got, it was actually cumbersome, but Mama ain't raise no b*tch, and you're going to take everything in one trip. "Press the button with the number 5." She studied the buttons for a second before clicking the right one and glancing up at you as though she were waiting for something. "Good job!" She nodded seriously. 

On your floor, you took a deep breath before picking everything up again, speed-walked down the hall, and took the corner before reaching your place at the end. You entered the security lock and your thumbprint and pushed it wide open to carry everything in. 

Quickly, you dropped everything down in the foyer and stood back to full height while shaking your arms. "Phew, my wrist." You complained softly before turning your attention to Simat, who stood silently by your side. "Alright, you can go watch TV while I put everything away. I'll start dinner after, and we'll eat together, okay?" 

With one of her nods, she takes her three giant dolls and walks over to the living room before doing a little hop to get on the bed. 

Now that you were preoccupied, you took your time putting away the groceries and necessities. With her clothes, you pulled out a couple of your collapsable bins and folded her clothes inside. It'll be in your room for now against the wall, so when she needs to change, everything will be right here. 

For dinner, you made loco moco, which should be easily digestible. And who doesn't like hamburgers, rice, a sunny-side-up egg, and brown gravy? Like before, she waited until you took your seat and took a bite first before eating. 

After this big plate, you honestly could go to sleep right then and there, but it was too early, and you didn't want to leave Simat alone. Her toys are all in the ottoman in the living room, so after washing dishes, you let her pull out the things she wanted and played along. Her obsession right now seemed to be the bubbles, so you stood around blowing them as she jumped around, trying to catch them. 

You even sent a video to Kohaku, who still had yet to see the images from earlier. He must be pretty preoccupied if he couldn't look at them yet. Hopefully, he answers when you put her to bed; it would be good if he showed consistency.

"Alright, Simat. It's bath time. Put your toys away, okay?" She nods, following your orders until the living room is clean again, and shuffles towards the bathroom, where you have already filled the tub with warm water and more soapy bubbles. 

Simat's hair texture and scalp didn't seem to need to be washed every day, though you'll scrub it again just for tonight, but this time with products that align with her hair type. All clean, you took her out and gave her a robe her size before traveling to the bedroom, where you pulled out a matching set of kitty pajamas. 

She changed while you cleaned up the bathroom and wiped water that fell out of the bath. When you checked the time, it had just hit eight p.m. At her age, she shouldn't go to sleep any later than nine, so you ushered her to her bed in the living room. 

It now looked more like it belonged to a child with her seven stuffed animals and pink fluffy blanket. "Simat, it's bedtime. Come lay down, and I'll try to call your father." You tell her, and she comes over to hop on the mattress and snuggle beneath the covers. 

Taking a deep breath, you called and hoped he answered for the sake of his daughter. However, it seems your prayers fell on deaf ears as it continued to ring and ring before ending when the call dropped. You tried again, and still, you received no response; it was just the automatic voicemail coming up. 

Now, you have to be the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry, Simat-" Kohaku's number pops up on the screen, and you breathe a sigh of relief. "About time you answer!" 

He laughs on the line as you hear the sound of cracking and buzzing fading off in the distance. "Sorry, sorry, please don't rip my head off! I said I would try to answer, but I get even busier at night." 

"Doing what?" You challenge only to receive an awkward chuckle in response. Sighing, you lean back against the bed and speak. "Whatever, I don't wanna know. I'm going to hand over the phone to Simat." Without waiting for an answer, you give your phone to the girl, who holds it close with both hands. 

Geez, it looks so cute, arrow to the heart!

While the two 'talked, ' you got up and went to your room to grab a change of clothes and hair products for afterward. He seemed to be talking a lot, so you took a seat in your office and checked over your work emails. 

It appears everything has been running smoothly while you've been off. This is not a surprise, considering most get their act together for a holiday bonus at the office during the holidays. Less work meant less stress and less stress meant happier days and more off time. 

There's a soft knock on your door frame, and you look up to see Simat in the doorway with your phone in her hand. "Oh, are you done speaking with Daddy?" She nods and comes closer to hand over your phone. "Okay, go lay down, and I'll be there to tuck you in." 

You wait for her to be out of sight before raising your phone and asking, "Hello?" 

"Hey, it seems like you two had a good day." 

"Yeah, did you get a chance to look at the pictures and stuff I sent?" You ask and lean back in your swivel chair. 

"I did!" He responds with a slight laugh. There's a flicking sound, something you recognized as the flicking open of a zippo lighter. "I saw you cut and did her hair; it looks really good. Also, she looked so cute in the Christmas dress. Try to have her wear that during the holiday." 

A smile plays on your lips while you shake your head. "She looked so cute in everything else, too. It seemed like she really liked clothes with cat or dog ears that she could play with. For Christmas, you should get her some Legos, probably a medieval castle with a dragon. She seems fascinated with dragons and wolves." 

"I love that. She's creative!" 

You hate the way you can practically hear and see his smile from his voice. It brings about that nostalgia and deep yearning you've been pushing down. "Do you want to hear about our day?"

"Of course, I'm surprised you even asked." 

B*stard, you wish he was just an asshole so you didn't feel this way. But right now, all you can do is keep it in the back of your head, as this is not permanent. In a few months, both of them will gone, and you'll never see them again. 

So, you told him everything about the day, starting with breakfast and the little things you noticed all the way down to her snuggling up in bed and eagerly awaiting to hear from her father. You wanted him to know everything that you've observed so it would be easier for him to understand and take care of her. 

Switching dominant guardians would probably be stressful, but hopefully, it'll be easy for her to assimilate to the change. 

"And that's everything. I'm off tomorrow and the next day, so if you're going to come over, give me a heads-up so I can make food or something." You murmur while playing with the ends of your hair. 

"I got sh*t to do tomorrow, but the next day, I'll definitely come by. It will probably be later in the afternoon, so have some mochi crunch ready for me to pound." 

"For real?" You question while rising from your seat. "You're going to bloat up eating all that soy. Do you really want to scare your daughter by turning into a mush monster?" 

He gasps on the line and murmurs something in Japanese that you cannot hear. "First of all, you need not to be so judgmental, you judgmental b*tch. People get canceled over things like that. Second of all, I ain't hearing sh*t from you, who eats like two bags of hot Cheetos a week."

After all these years, he can still joke like it were just the two of you again, sitting at the small theater and making a fool himself. It makes sense; everyone always wanted to be his friend with his high charisma and colorful humor. 

It makes sense why he couldn't be yours forever. A man like that belongs to others, not to a small-town girl like you. "Whatever. I need to take a shower, so I'm hanging up now. Just be aware I'll be calling you every night at eight because I don't want her going to bed too late." 

"Got it—good night (Y/n). And thanks again for taking care of her. You've always been good at taking care of other people. I just know you're going to fill her with every bit of love and joy you bring. People have always liked coming to you to feel better." 

There's that warmth again in your belly, that little sting that both hurts and feels good. You both want him to get out of your life and stay. 

"Goodnight." Is all you could muster before ending the call and exhaling a deep breath. For now, you don't want to think about him anymore. "Did I take too long?" You ask the little Oni as you come over to the couch. 

She shook her head sluggishly, proving her point wrong as she struggled to stay awake. With a small smile, you tuck her in and lay her stuffies by her side as she snuggles the Orc one. "Goodnight, Simat. Sweet dreams. I'll come wake you in the morning, and we'll have some bacon and eggs, okay?" 

Simat doesn't nod this time; however, you do see the faintest smile on her lips when the TV screen flashes brightly. 

Arrow to the heart! 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The following day, you two stayed in your robes and ate breakfast together before lying in her bed together. With the rain wreaking havoc on the outside, you both decided to stay in and pass the day on.

She seemed to want to watch the Dragon Ball movies, so you had a marathon all day with candies and fruits in the living room. Of course, you made sure to fill her in on the lore since there was so much that happened throughout the series that she was not aware of. 

When there are things that catch her interest, she becomes consumed by them, having to indulge in all forms of content before letting it go. It kind of reminds you of yourself and your unhealthy obsession with certain books when you were younger—some of the worst and best times of your life. 

For lunch, you had hot dogs and chips before watching some more, and for dinner, it consisted of smoked pork and green beans. The cycle repeated as you played a little bit longer before she showered and lay down to talk to her father. 

This time, he thankfully answered on the first ring, and two could talk. When they were done, she handed the phone right back to you, only for Kohaku to ask how your day was again. You both spoke for a little bit before you ended the call and tucked Simat in. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It was the day when your ex-boyfriend would be coming over, and you couldn't stop the anxiety you were feeling...nor the excitement of seeing him. So wrong; it was wrong for you to feel like for another man while you were in a relationship. 

But it's fleeting, it should be. 

Today, you both ate some cereal and changed into different clothes. It was not raining, but heavy gloomy clouds remained, so you decided to take Simat out to an arcade. Her blue and green eyes had sparked in the flashing lights of the game room, and you could for once see her excitement. 

Whatever she wanted to play, she got it, and when you played air hockey with her, she just kept beating you. It made no sense; you used to be the undefeated champion?! Even Kohaku fell to your power; it was absolutely unbelievable. 

She ate your a** up in almost every other competitive game; at some point, you just had to let her go off and play the games herself. Eventually, it was a little past one, and you wanted to be back before her father arrived, so you brought her to the reward section and let her get whatever she wanted. 

An arrow stuck you in the heart when she bought matching mood rings and gave you one. 

The drive back was peaceful, and when you arrived at your apartment, you were surprised to see Kohaku leaning against your door as he scrolled on his phone.

"Hey, you pig." You call out and start approaching him. "I thought I said to give me a heads-up. It's gonna make me look suspicious if some emo creep hangs around my front door." 

Kokahu fakes an injury as he holds a hand to his heart and swings a plastic bag by his side. "I'm hurt. How can you get even prettier but meaner as the time goes by." He whines. "I even brought you your favorite dessert from the bakery back home, and this is how you treat me?" 

Damn, now you feel like sh*t and bashful from his compliment. His stupid a** continues to be such a smooth talker, and he doesn't even realize the effects they are having on you. 

"Whatever." You mumble and enter your password, making sure to cover it from prying eyes before opening the door and letting everyone in. 

Simat heads in first and goes straight to her bed, where she tries to grab all her stuffies and brings them over to her dad to see. "Wow, what is all this?" He exclaims and kneels, only for her to shove them into his arms. 

"I told you, she has an obsession with dragons and wolves." You respond while placing her arcade bag down on the coffee table. 

"Did they not have any Oni stuffies?" he asks, coming closer so he can collapse on the couch bed. 

You turned to him with an expression as though you couldn't believe the dense sh*t that came out of his mouth. "Are you dumb? Have you seen the Oni stuffies they sell? It'll give her nightmares!" 

Kohaku only mocks you, clicking his tongue and smacking his lips as he looks away. 

"Simat, why don't you take out your bubbles, and your daddy can set up the automatic one?" She nodded enthusiastically before removing the ottoman's top and all her bubble toys and devices. 

With those two busy, you get out the snacks and make them a tray, placing them down on the nightstand before returning to the kitchen to start dinner. 

The two seemed to get along; it was easy for Kohaku to get along with anyone. He was also the one the kids always liked, no matter their sass or attitude. 

Simat is in good hands; she probably won the game by getting him as her father. He'd honestly spoil her so rotten that you're going to have to instill gratefulness into her so she doesn't get a nasty attitude later on. 

For today's menu, there were buttered noodles and shrimp with a side of fresh Cezar salad. Wait...you don't know if Simat likes seafood or is allergic to it. "Hey, Kohaku." 

The man hums before you hear him shift and make his way over. "What is it?" When you look up, you have to stop yourself from audibly gasping. He took off his leather jacket and shirt, leaving him in a black tank top and jeans. 

His arms have grown to a much larger and sculpted shape, not to mention the wiggly veins that protrude against his pale skin. He's always been fit and attractive, but he seemed to have gone through a second growth spurt, and he exerts masculinity right in front of you. 

"Uh. What was I saying..." You state out loud before shaking your head and returning your gaze to the pot. "Oh, right. Did her mom say anything about allergies, like seafood? I'm making butter noodles with shrimp, but I don't know if she's allergic." 

He shakes his head while stepping forward and leaning over the pot. "No, not from what I'm aware. And I've got to say, I really missed your cooking. My dad still nags me about getting some beef stew that he had last time all those years ago." 

Your heart skips a beat, and blood rushes to your face as you focus on cleaning the shrimp. "Well, nothing beats a home-cooked meal, and your dad could never cook for sh*t." A laugh rings out from your lips from just the memory. 

Staying over at his dad's place on the farm always resulted in you and Kohaku secretly feeding the dogs whatever his father made. It was nearly unedible that only an animal could genuinely eat. Because of that, you'd go up to his room later and snack on all the treats you hid in the mini-fridge. 

The thoughts bring about nostalgia, but you quickly push it away when you feel that bubbling pressure in your chest.

What the hell? Why do you want to cry? Why do you still care? Why doesn't he care like you do? 

"Anyway, uh, that's all I had to ask. You can go back to playing with her." You mumbled and waved one of your dirty hands at the exit of the kitchen. 

"You sure?" Kohaku inquires while taking a step forward. "I can help, you know." 

Why does he have to be so nice!? No one told him he had to be so considerate; no one told him he had to make up for obliterating your heart. "No, Kohaku. I already said you can go back. You didn't come here to hang out with me, so don't waste your time." You didn't mean for attitude to spill from your lips, yet the building anger at yourself was unleashed on him. 

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel his gaze following your movement as you take the tray of shrimp to the sink to clean. No way could you face him at this moment; the embarrassment mortified you, and it would literally kill you to see him giving you a pitiful expression. 

How pathetic it must be when he can see that you still care so much about him. 

"Just give me a holler if you need anything." He responds after a moment of silence, and you only hum back. 

His footsteps fade, and only once you hear his voice faintly from the living room do you allow yourself to turn and face the spot he was standing in. 

Dammit, he fell out of love while you never left. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Alright, everyone, wash your hands and come to the dinner table!" You inform them while plating their dishes in your fancy bowls. 

Kohaku says something before you hear little fit pitter-patter against the wooden floors as though she were running. He's quick to follow behind, laughing slightly until you hear him praise her as they reach the bathroom. 

Carrying their food, you place them down on the table and return to pour them glasses of water. This feeling of domestication riddles through your brain, igniting flares of satisfaction from within. You've always been a giver and a provider, and doing exactly so scratches a burning itch. 

"Look at this!" Kohaku exclaims while entering the dining room, carrying Simat on his hip. "No one cooks as good as (Y/n). I swear, you are so lucky you get to her food every day." While he speaks, he reaches over to pinch her little chubby cheeks. 

"You're a grown man. You can make your own food." You murmur as you leave to place the pitcher of water back in the fridge. 

"What a killjoy!" He shouts before saying something inaudible to his daughter. 

Now that everything is ready, you grab your own bowls of food and return to eat with them. As you approach, you hear his usual 'itadakimasu' and almost trip over your own feet. In that moment, you could practically be transferred right back into the past.

This is eating you up alive... You're not going to be able to last before you die again of a broken heart. 

It took you a moment and a few deep breaths until you could return and settle down. By then, he was already halfway through his food, chowing down like a pig, with his heterochromatic eyes twinkling in enjoyment. 

He suddenly burps loudly and apologizes before turning to face his daughter and pointing his chopsticks at her. "Why aren't you eating? Do you not like it?" 

"She does this often," you say, your attention on your bowl as you prepare your own pair and start collecting the noodles. "She only starts eating after I take the first bite." 

Kohaku's gaze settles on your body, but you don't say anything anymore before taking a bite and chewing. Now, Simat follows and splits her chopsticks before eating, too. 

"You're cute, Simat." The older Oni states as he reaches over to swipe a small piece of garlic from her face. 

The girl blinks, almost looking stunned, even if her expression remains neutral, and it breaks a smile on your face. "She is, very much so." 

Nothing more is said as everyone continues to eat. Kohaku went back for seconds and made an even bigger bowl than what you made initially, but you're not going to complain. It's better he eats it all than letting it rot in the fridge before you throw it out. 

A sudden ringing from your room grabs your attention, and you realize you are getting a phone call. "Oh, I'll be right back," you murmur and shift to get up and make your way down the hall. 

However, your eyes nearly widen when you realize it is Rafe calling. "Shit." You had been so preoccupied with Simat that you hadn't been in contact with him at all this whole time. 

"Hello?" You answered and quietly shut your door for privacy. 

"Hello? Hello!? Babe, how can you not talk to me for two days straight? Not even just a quick text goodnight or good morning!?" 

He had every right to be mad because it took minimal effort to stay in contact and let him know you were still alive. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just been so busy, you know-" 

"With what!?" He snaps, and you nearly recoil from his blaring tone. "You don't work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, so what the hell have you been doing? 

There's a lump in your throat that nearly chokes you dead. "First of all, watch your tone when you talk to me. I already apologized for not staying in contact. Second of all, if I'm busy, then I'm busy. It's the holiday, I still haven't bought any presents, and I still need to help management prepare for the office party. Just because it was my off days doesn't mean I hadn't work to do." Straight lying through your teeth, you swear you could have been struck down for such a vice. 

Though you weren't wrong, there were still things you needed to do...you just haven't gotten to them yet. 

"And that warranted not even a text? You know what, I'm coming over. We need to talk face to face." Your breath hitches, and alarmed 'no!' comes from your lips without your will. 

"I-I'm not going to see you when you're pissed off. You know you say things you don't mean when you're angry, and I'm going to take that right now. I'm really sorry for not keeping in contact, and I'll do better. I'm in the middle of eating, so don't talk to me until you've calmed down and thought thoroughly about what you want to say." 

You don't wait for him to respond and hang up. A sigh expells deep from within your lungs as you collapse on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Rafe was not entirely in the wrong; you could have done better. It does make you feel awful keeping this from him; you've never been one to carry such big secrets. 

If he were just more understanding, you could let him in, and he could even help if he really wanted. But if you think about it, if one of his ex-girlfriends dropped off their kid, who wasn't even related to Rafe, and told him to care for them, you don't know how you'd feel. 

"Ugh!" You're an awful person; everything you've been doing is just reinforcing that. You're in a relationship, yet you're letting these past feelings for an ex affect you! It's not right; it was never right.

You should have slammed that door in his face the minute you saw him. You should have left him alone to deal with his own responsibility. You should have gotten rid of these feelings a long time ago before moving on and getting with a different person. 

But you thought you had. You spent years working on yourself and your career, getting to the point where you didn't need a man in your life to be there for you. In the time being, you went on a few dates here and there, but when you really felt ready, you settled down with Rafe. 

No more, you don't even want to think of this anymore. For now, you just need to handle this. It's only a month or two more, and then they're both gone. 

At this point, your stomach is queasy from the mess inside your head, and you're no longer hungry. You return only to grab your bowls and dump the remaining food. Simat was still finishing what little remained, so you began washing the dishes and attempting to busy yourself. 

Work starts tomorrow, and you have to go in early. Once you finish this, you'll have to call the nursery school or a pre-k so they can watch Simat while you are at work. You'll have to explain some circumstances, but overall, most daycare workers are understanding and accommodating, so you shouldn't have much to worry about. 

Hopefully, Simat will be okay. It's probably too early for her to make friends when she's still opening up to you and her father. However, the environment would most likely do her some good, and she can see how children her age act with one another. 

"Thank you for the meal!" Kohaku beams as he steps into the kitchen to hand you their empty dishes. 

You only hum in response and continue what you are doing. The Oni sighs, and in your peripheral, you see him lean against the counter. "Is everything okay? You've been kind off since-" 

"Since what?" You interject and finally turn your head to meet his beautiful gaze. "I'm busy taking care of your responsibility and trying to make sure your daughter gets everything she needs while you're off doing god(s) knows what." He didn't deserve your anger; all that is happening is your own Karma. Nevertheless, you just need him to stop this good guy act at this point. Receiving his kindness just makes it harder to move on. 

A pathetic laugh makes its way from your lips as you shake your head. "Honestly, you show up at my door in the middle of the night after no contact for six years just to drop off a kid from the relationship you left me for. How ironic is that?" Another laugh echoes out from the sheer audacity. "It's so ludicrous that I can't even believe I let you just walk all over me like that. Am I just a joke to you?" 

"What!?" He exclaims and shakes his head while standing straight up. "Of course not. I-" 

"Not a joke, yet you treated our relationship the way you did once you went to college?" Your interjection silences whatever words are on his lips as he looks away to bite his lips. 

Shutting off the water, you begin drying your hands on a dish towel and keeping your gaze away. "It's whatever. You fell out of love, right? I wasn't what you wanted, and that's just the way life is. But I will never forget the feeling of not being enough. And you're only making it worse by pitying me and trying to make up for how you did me so dirty." 

Finally, you turn and face him, standing right in front of him and craning your neck to stare into his beautiful eyes. "I'm your ex. You're my ex. You're not obligated to do anything for me." 

"I just... can't." He murmurs with a frown. "Before we were even in a relationship, we were best friends." 

With a scornful laugh, you find yourself at your limit. Shaking your head, you step past him, only stop midway and turn back. "We're not friends now and will never be again. Get that through your head." 

You don't let him say anymore, leaving him in his spot as you make your way to your office and shut the door.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You stayed in your office working on backed-up drafts and clearing fallen deals for the rest of the night. The two continued to play for a while until you got up, only to open the door and yell down the hall that he needed to bathe her.

He's a grown man; he should know how to bathe his own daughter so you can just leave them be. While you worked, they seemed to spend a long time in there before you heard their feet padding across the floor back towards the living room. 

You're not sure how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door that spurred you to jump in surprise. Sighing, you mumbled a 'come in' or something along those lines as you resumed reading the documents on your screen. 

The door parts slowly, and from your peripheral, you see Kohaku sticking his head in as he takes in the appearance of that room. "I just put Simat to bed, so I'm gonna get going." 

"Okay. You can show yourself." You reply without giving him your full attention. 

He remains still as though there is still something left on his tongue. And you were right as you heard him take a deep breath and open his mouth. "I'm sorry-"

"F*ckin A." You sneer and snap your head to face him. "Is that all you know what to say? Your head f*ckin broken? Can't come up with anything other than useless, thoughtless apologies? Just shut up and leave." 

Those words hit the nail on the head as he suddenly nods his head and runs a hand through his black and white hair. "...You're right." That is all he says as he turns and begins walking away. 

You sit stagnant, listening to his fading footsteps before the front door opens and shuts quickly with a faint click. 

Alone, you finally break down, and a sob stuck in your throat finally pours out in strained waves. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The following day, you got ready for work and made breakfast for the both of you. While dressing her up for the day and packing her bag with snacks and her toys, you explained what was going on. She seemed to understand, but you made sure to tell her everything about how the day was going to go. 

With a nice drive, you took her to the daycare and talked with the lady there a little bit to remind them of Simat's unique qualities. She seemed genuine, so you gave the little Oni a big hug and told her to be a good girl before leaving for work. 

Everything was normal; it went by with the usual minor annoyances here and picking up the slack of your department. Half of them usually get so lazy during the holidays, and the other half works their finger to the bone to get that second Christmas bonus. 

As you busied yourself, you couldn't help the little anxiety in your heart. You worried about Simat and hoped she was doing well. If anything happened to her, you would go off; it doesn't matter if they're just kids. There is this intense desire to protect her even though she is not yours. It's surprising how easily you grew attached to her, but then again, she is just a little girl.

Honestly, you couldn't wait to pick her up, but of course, someone messed up an insurance deal, and you had to stay behind to fix it. You're the unit supervisor; this should be designated to someone else, but they're all incompetent. 

Once you finished it, you were out the door. People were trying to talk to you, yet you ignored them as you rushed to your car and sped towards the nursery. You were at least an hour later than what you promised, and I hope she was not resentful. 

When you arrived, you threw the car in park at the front and rushed to get inside. Glancing around, you tried to find Simat, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

"Ms. (L/n)?" 

Your head whipped around to see the worker from earlier. "Hello! I'm sorry I'm late. I was pushed into overtime." Words spill out of your mouth as you attempt to calm yourself. 

The young lady only nods in an understanding manner. "It's no worries; most parents usually end up working later than expected. Follow me. Simat's been waiting eagerly for you." She expresses and waves an arm in an indication to follow her. 

Leading over to another space, you see it's a small room with desk put together where some kids are coloring. In the corner, Simat sat by herself with her head down as she played with her Orc doll. Even though her face always remained in the usual neutral expression, her sagging shoulders and low gaze felt close to melancholy. 

Quietly, with soft steps, you strode up to her from behind before kneeling carefully in your work skirt. "What are you playing?" As soon as she hears your voice, her entire body perks up. Her head snaps in your direction with a slight glimmer of tears glossing over in her colorful iris'.

Unexpectedly, her little hands drop her favorite doll to reach forward and grasp the front of your button-up and conceal her face in your chest. You hadn't expected such a reaction, nor did you think she'd display an expressive depiction of emotion. "Simmy, did you think I abandoned you?" She nods after a moment of hesitation, which strikes you right in the heart. 

Softly grasping her shoulders, you pull her back so you can look into those icy blue and line green eyes. Tears are staining her tan cheeks, which you wipe away softly. "I would never. I have you, and you have me. I'm not going anywhere. Now, let's go home and make something to eat, okay?" 

Rubbing her tiny fist against her eyes, she takes a deep breath, nods, and turns back to grab her pink bag and doll before returning to you. She even holds your hand without you asking, squeezing tightly as though she were afraid you'd slip away. 

How are you going to be able to let her go when the time comes? 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Through a consistent cycle, you continue to care for Simat, with her father calling every night before she goes to bed. Every two days, he shows up to see her while you maintain your distance. Sometimes, he takes her out to the arcade or ice skating, which you know does wonders for her development. 

You can see the evolution of her opening up and expressing herself without constraint. She conveys her dislikes more without fear and actively does her own thing without having to be told to. You didn't think you could be so proud of a child that was not yours, but here you are. 

Still, she has yet to speak, which had you severely worried, but the daycare tried to explain some situations to you. From Sim's early childhood, she went through a lot of neglect and stress, which probably formed a health condition called SM, Selective Mutism. It's an anxiety disorder that were affecting her verbal ability to communicate in regular or social situations. 

There were many paths you could take to help her: mental health therapy, speech therapy, or even medication if it comes down to it. At her age, you'd really like to stay away from medicating her, so it will only be acknowledged in a desperate need. 

For now, you and Kohaku agreed to continue what you have been doing and assimilate her into a healthy dynamic. After a few months, she'll go back with him, and then he'll take his daughter to get her recommendations for mental health and speech therapy. As much as you'd like to give her the proper treatment now, it would be best for her to participate in it when she can be in a more permanent environment. 

This is only temporary, but the effects you have on her, as well as the effects she has on you, will become permanent. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

November passed, and most of December did before it finally became Christmas Eve. You had your work party, and luckily, it was on the day Kohaku came over. And because it was the holiday, he agreed to sleep over for Christmas.  

Currently, the two were outside playing in the snow. You can see them from your window as you peek to check up on them. 

Three snowmen are built: a little one, another slightly bigger, and a humongous one. The small one has the oversized pink sweater she wore when she first showed up. The middle one has a giant smile and a huge heart drawn over the middle. The biggest one was wearing Kohaku's leather jacket, which slightly sagged on its stick arms. 

Snow continued to fall and build up in the yard; you could practically hear the crunch of it beneath their feet. Simat suddenly fell back, staring up at the clouded grey sky that began to grow dark with the passing of the afternoon. You can see her breath in the air, the cold whisp drifting as she breathed out. 

Kohaku smiled as he came over to pat her face and collapse next to her lightly. He said something you couldn't hear before moving his arms and legs, which his daughter mimicked. They both stood up together and took a step back to look over the snow angels they made. 

Someday, you'd like to be down there and play along as the cold numbs the tips of your fingers and burns the surface of your face. But your place isn't by their side, and very slowly, you are coming around to accept. 

You're almost done getting ready for the party, finished with your hair and makeup, and are now just waiting for Rafe to come pick you up, as he is your plus one. Leaving your spot from the window, you make your way to the kitchen, where you fill a kettle with water and place it on the burner. 

Checking the oven, dinner is almost done; it should be ready a little after you depart. You're not worried about leaving the two alone while you're out; they'll be fine. After all, you're not part of their family. 

The front door clicks and unlocks as you hear the sound of Kohaku's voice. Then the kettle started screaming, steam spewing out of the spout in rapid waves. Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, you shake the hot chocolate packets first before pouring a little milk and then the boiling water. 

A cacophony of sounds blares from the TV, as it sounds like they resumed their Christmas movie from earlier. Your phone from the bathroom starts to ring, so you quickly place spoons in the mugs and bring them over to the two. "Here," you mumble, placing them down on the coffee table before wiping your hands on the sides of your pants and vacating down the hall. 

Answering the phone with a hello, you hear Rafe's voice on the other line. "Hey, I'm about five minutes away. Should I park downstairs or in the front?"

"In the front. I just have to put on my dress." You respond while entering your bedroom. "Love you, be safe." 

"Of course, love you too." 

The dress for the occasion was a red satin dress, strapless, with a tight-fitting corset that snatched in your waist. You wore a pair of mesh sleeves that reached your upper bicep with white fluff around the band. With a slit on the right side, it was slightly provocative but appealing to show the shape of your leg. Because of its wide flair and slightly long train, you needed to wear a pair of high heels. 

To be honest, you felt overdressed, but there are not many events that you go to where you can really dress up and make yourself feel like a pretty princess. Dress on, makeup set, and hair done; the only thing that is left is to grab your matching clutch purse and your keys. 

"Alright, I'm going. Try not to stay up too late or burn my place down." At the sound of your approaching voice, Kohaku and Simat turned their heads from the movie to face you. Simmy's eyes twinkled, gleaming in the light as she sat up straighter. 

"Wow, gorgeous as ever." The older Oni praised and rested his head against his fist with a smile that showed off his fangs. "Is this prom? Do I need to walk you out to your date and make sure he brings you home at an appropriate time?

Your jaw clenches, and it takes everything in you to eat the words that nearly spewed from your lips unapologetically. It's so funny how he mentions prom when he gave you that promise ring and made a vow to marry you when things settled. 

How naive you were to believe it all. 

Instead of replying, you step forward to kiss Simmy's forehead and tell her goodbye before leaving and locking the door with the passcode and fingerprint. 

You take your time going to the elevator and traveling down, and right as you arrive at the lobby, you see Rafe's vehicle pull up. 

When you got in, Rafe did a double take. He smiled and leaned back in his seat. "Who are you dressing to impress?" 

"Can't I just dress up for myself?" You inquire with a teasing smile. "I practically planned the entire party myself; I deserve to enjoy it. '

With a nod of his head, your boyfriend placed a hand on your thigh and began to drive towards the office. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

At a party, regardless of whether it's work-related or not, there's obviously going to be alcohol. You tried to stay away, but it teased you with its fuzzy taste and mind-numbing burn. A lot is going on in your life, including a lot of pain and inner turmoil that you have no outlet for. 

The source of it dwindles in your home, marking everything with their presence. The bed smells of her, and the air reeks of his cologne. Her hair products lay about in the bathroom; his clothes hide in the closet, obscured but there. 

Their shoes sit right there by the door; muddy snow melted on wooden floors. When they leave, getting rid of everything that belonged to them doesn't remove the memories engraved in that place. 

Really, what did you do to deserve this pain? Hadn't you suffered enough? 

Your head is dizzy; your coordination is off, as though you were out at sea. Everyone at the party was enjoying themselves, with faces red and flushed or lighter and hot. Rafe is somewhere, off in some corner, gambling while playing pool. 

Everything tastes the same: the champagne you downed and the water you sipped—it all tastes like bitter resentment. 

"Shouldn't the supervisor who planned the party be enjoying it?" You're barely able to turn your head to see one of your co-workers and fellow supervisor approaching. 

He was at least a decade older than you, with age lines slightly forming around his slim nose. His hair was dark and slicked back, a single stray over his forehead that contrasted against the bright lights of his blue eyes. While others wore ugly Christmas sweaters, Reno refused to wear anything other than his tailored black suit and red satin tie. 

"I'm enjoying it." You hold in a burp and swallow it down. "Don't you see all my drinks?" With gestures at the table, the focus is on the multiple cocktail glasses and stacked shot glasses.

Reno pushed his thin glasses higher up his nose while stepping on the footrest and lifting himself to sit in the high bar chair. "That many drinks are a prescription for a broken heart, supervisor." 

You scowl, twisting your face into a scornful expression. "What you know about a broken heart? You married your high school sweetheart." The words burn worse than whiskey down the throat. "Both of you went to prep school in this big a** city but still married each other." Your pettiness comes forward in full sight as your grip grows tighter on your half-drunken glass. "I hate you and your happy little relationship. Get out of my face." 

Unit one's supervisor laughs in the throat, his gaze shifting to the window. Even this late at night, the city doesn't sleep. Lights blare and flash, horns blare and whine, and people still walk out, even with the snow amassing on the sidewalk. "Everyone is lucky you're a professional, and do not let your emotions affect your work performance." His response sounded so bureaucratic that it only worsened your mood. 

"You are literally the worst person to talk about relationship problems with. I need someone from the streets." Your drunken blunder earns a faint chuckle as the older man reaches for a drink. 

He swirled the burgundy liquid around in the Pinot Noir-shaped glass before shifting to face you. "Whether it is someone with expressive slang or not, we'd presumably provide the same advice." With a reserved sip, he drank from his wine with poise. "Whatever troubles you, the most responsible thing is to confront it head-on. Do not dwell in it, do not prolong it, do not tell yourself that if you just wait it out, things will get better." 

Vibrations from the holiday music rumble beneath your chair, tingling your toes alongside the alcohol buzzing in your veins. How comical it was when he knew nothing of what you were experiencing but nearly hit the mark. 

His simple words somewhat calmed your mind, even managing to get you to sit up and release the glass you had been nursing. "Was Cora your first love?"

Reno licked his lip slightly before setting down his drink. "Actually, no. I had only engaged with my wife a few years after my first love and I became estranged." 

That surprised you as everyone always thought Cora was his first love, considering their dedication to each other. "Do you still think of your first love?"

"Ah, I see where this is going." The supervisor declared with a knowing grin. "I will recount my feelings; however, there is a likelihood that you will hear remarks that do more harm than good." You just wave off his concerns and usher him to continue. With a sigh, he glanced down at his left hand and twiddled with the wedding ring.

"Experiencing your first love is something that no one prepares you for. They do not tell you about the overwhelming emotions or passionate romanticization of every little thing. There is no time to ready your hearts that become utterly consumed by one another. I experienced that firsthand with a young woman at prep named Wilhelmina. A lovely girl connected with a duke in Europe, but even without the knowledge of knowing she harbored royal blood, it would not be far-fetched to think she was a princess. Everything about her was dignified, married with elegance and grace. Many men competed for her hand, and of course, I was one among them." 

You laugh and drunkenly shake your head. "Why am I not surprised that you had relationships with an actual princess? You truly are a man from a different social class than me." 

"Yet we both partake in the same profession," He praises with a raise of his wine glass. "As I was saying, I was attracted to her physical appearance, yes. She was a gorgeous woman; even to this day, many could not even compare. Regardless, her brilliance and compassion outshined all. She was a woman who was all-consuming, and I mean that in the best possible way. Mina treasured knowledge and fell into deep fixation when researching or reading. I was particularly fond of her many tirades when she denounced any bias encountered in educational texts. Very passionate, I must add." 

You narrow your eyes and pucker your lips. "This is all sounding too rich for me. Get to the part where she broke your heart."

Reno scrunched his nose. "I suppose you only have forbearance during work hours." 

"I'm drunk and suffering. What do you expect from me?" You remark, which yields a hum from the older man. 

"Touché, demoiselle. Alright, to the crucial details. Together, our relationship was fiery and passionate. And when I look back at it, I realize it was significantly unhealthy. We became each other's will to live. Life devolved into a diminutive, secluded bubble that others could not penetrate. Every waking moment, we were together, sharing and experiencing the first of certain situations with the other. Many nights, we spoke of what our future would be like, and at the time, neither one of us could fathom a separation. We planned to marry after graduation and move to the Netherlands, where we would live a simple life with a child or two and grow old together. It was idealistic and hopelessly romantic, but to this day, I will never be able to forget that devotion. Nothing I have experienced at this age has even compared. However, it was that strong passion that ended our relationship." 

"What...?" You expel with a harsh gasp. "You broke up for what!?" 

Reno smiled like a parent with a secret they won't tell you. "The connections we shared were strong, overpowering, but unforgettable. I loved her with everything I had to offer, and she reciprocated that fact, if not pouring even more than I did into our relationship. Perhaps that was when the fire of our devotion fizzled out for me while hers burned even brighter, hotter. Mentally, I struggled to maintain a rhythm at her pace and found myself overwhelmed by the fissures forming. No matter how fast I ran or how long I jogged, I couldn't arrive at the same destinations alongside her anymore. Things changed, feelings changed, and I knew that the responsible thing was to confront her and end the relationship." 

Your mouth is dry as the tips of your fingers tingle. "F*ckin A, that's now what I expected. Hey!" You waved over attendance and snatched a shot from her tray before quickly downing it like water. "I wanted your heart shattered! I wanted your heart stepped on and kicked over and utterly obliterated. I hate you men who just fall out of love like it's nothing!" You attempt to grab another shot, but Reno grasps your wrist to stop any movement. 

"Go on ahead." He informs the attendant, who quickly departed from your area. Alone, he lowers your wrist to the table and inhales a deep breath like he couldn't catch a break. "I never fell out of love with Wilhelmina. I still loved her, but what we had could not be maintained. I still love her passion; I still treasure her smile, and I still adore her covetousness for knowledge. I still love that woman, but not in the same manner as before. I was too immature to understand when and where to implement boundaries. I was too young to comprehend that a relationship should not be so obsessive. Wilhelmina and I had loved to live when we should have lived to love. It was not until I spent the years working on myself and maturing that I realized the validity of that statement. Engaging with Cora was not out of necessity or compulsion. I did not need to be with her always or see her constantly. I invited her out for excursions when I wanted to, when I was free. I did not need to ignore my duties and cast aside all responsibilities just because I could not handle being away from her for one second. We took things slow and at our own pace that people often thought we were not together. But it was good for us; we both gave fifty, fifty. Now we've been wedded for nearly fifteen years with not a single lingering issue." 

You've never thought of it at that angle, only burning with wrath from your own overbearing emotions. Wilhelmina sounds just like you; you're relating on a personal level without ever meeting her. The fire of your devotion to Kohaku was so bright that it must have been blinding. It must have been all-consuming, burning away everything that made him who he was. 

Now you understand. You were a flame, small at first, but with all that Kohaku poured into the relationship, into you, you grew into a blaze. You took his kindling without even knowing, consuming his fuel until he could no longer manage his own fire. While your flare evolved into an intense and raging inferno, Kohaku's had extinguished, smothered, with nothing but ashes remaining. 

He did everything and gave you everything to such an extent that the inferno inside of you still burns to this day. 

"I still think of her every once in a while." Reno's voice cuts through your thoughts as your eyes rise from the table. His head faced the window, staring back out at the snowy night sky. "We have remained in contact after all these years, providing updates here and there when we can. Of course, I do lament the way I shattered her heart at the time, but we both agreed that it was the best decision I could have made. Where we are in life currently is everything we could have wanted. It's a shame that such intense flames have become extinguished, but what we love now is a part of our lives, not our entire lives." 

You can only stare at him, tears glossing over and a sting forming in the corner of your eyes. Perhaps this is precisely what you've needed to hear. After the breakup, you cried only once, letting everything out, then buried deep down in a cavern where everything was cold and frozen. You did not heal or express your pain to anyone. So, it formulated into resentment as the years went by, and you could no longer see it rationally, only emotionally. 

For once, you see things clearly and understand what you must do. 

"I guess I didn't need the streets to learn this lesson." You joke softly, attempting to lighten the mood so you do not wail audibly in front of your co-workers and bosses. 

Reno reaches forward, his warm hands settling over your hands to stop tremors you didn't even know that you were experiencing. "You are a good woman, (Y/n). Whatever had transpired in the past is not anyone's fault. Things just worked out the way they did, and you should not blame yourself or your past partner. There doesn't need to be any more blame, just healing." His grip tightened the slightest when you breathed out a trembling exhale. "That man, Rafe(?) I can tell that you hold back with him. Do not try to pacify your flames, (Y/n). Either you share the burdens together or end it responsibly, but it is only advice. Do whatever you need to do." 

Sharing a moment of silence, you both sat there while staring out the wall of windows. The flurries continued to collect on the ground, though it had yet to stop the traffic. Life went on, and life progressed. 

"Now!" Reno had patted your hands before reaching over to his pants and removing his car keys. "Are you in need of a ride, or will you leave along with your date?" 

You didn't answer at first, letting your gaze fall into the distance in the room where Rafe was located. He was enjoying himself, laughing and drinking. He was letting loose, finally releasing all the built-up stress you were causing to accumulate with your lies and hidden secrets. 

"Could I trouble you, good sir, for a ride?" You tease with the first smile you've had all night. 

Reno shared that grin and stood off his seat to offer his elbow while gesturing towards it. "No trouble at all, demoiselle." He remarks in the same joking manner. 

Drunkenly, you wrap your arm around his elbow and allow him to guide you toward the elevator that leads down to the parking lot. Surprisingly, you were aware enough to text Rafe that you were leaving because you didn't feel good. He'd probably not take that too well and be angry with you in the morning, but it's better than nothing. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Your heels hang from your fingers as you shuffle down the hall. Your skin is hot, still burning from the alcohol, so the cool tiled floor alleviates some of that heat. Finally, you reach your door and have to rest your forehead against the wooden partition to steady your coordination. 

When you input your code and fingerprint, the door buzzes slightly, and you attempt to enter as quietly as possible.

The TV is playing, but the volume is low. Not a single light is on but the nightlights and the illumination from Kohaku's phone screen. 

At the sound of the door, he sat up from his position on the living room couch bed, and you could hear the sound of his footsteps against the laminated floor. 

"You were out late." He teases. "Thought I was going to have to track you down and give your date a stern talking to." 

You're still facing the door, you're still holding your shoes, you're still drunker than you've ever been. But it was enough for you to turn around to face him after gathering what little bearings you could muster. 

He stands only a few feet away, shirtless, only in a pair of low-hanging Christmas pants that leave practically nothing to the imagination. The shape of his body was so manly, close to inhuman, with his muscles so profoundly shaped. 

You are starting to understand what Reno meant by boundaries.

"I'm still in love with you." 

Kohaku's heterochromia eyes widen, the whites largely visible as he stands stagnant in his spot. His expression from earlier had fallen, leaving his lips pursed tightly. Even his built chest and broad pectorals hadn't moved, as though you gripped his lungs and tore them out. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You slur with a heavy tongue and a slight tilt of your head. "I thought it was obvious." 

He doesn't respond at first, either trying to collect his bearings or figure out the right words to say. "I-, you must have really drank a lot. You always said such nonsense when you had too much to drink." The Oni attempts to jest and laugh, but you do not share that giggle. 

"There you go again, taking me for a joke again." Your murmur at that point was more to yourself as you dropped your shoes and stumbled your way to your bedroom. 

Kohaku followed after a moment of hesitation, lingering in the doorway while you heaved yourself on your bed at the edge. No one says anything, just listening to the faint rumble of the TV. 

"Tonight, I spoke to my co-worker..." You begin faintly. "He married his high school sweetheart, but not his first love." Your attention lingers on the window at the side of your room, staring out at the snowy weather. "I did not tell him what I was going through, but he offered advice that was exactly what I needed to hear. Before...I saw what happened to us as you just abandoning me, completely ditching me because you didn't love me anymore. It was more complex than that, wasn't it?" 

Tears gloss over once again, but this time, you let them fall and smudge whatever makeup remained. "You still loved me; it just became too much. It must have been so exhausting to give your all every waking moment." Everything tastes bitter on your tongue. "I don't fully understand because I still have so much to give...I still had so much to offer. But you...I must have taken everything and still begged for more. I should have understood, but I was young, and immature, and passionately in love with the idea of love." 

The guilt is so evident on his face it's sickening. If this were you just a few hours earlier, you'd probably snap and insult him, unable to bear with his pity. 

"Why are you feeling bad? You made your decision, and you did what you did. It was for the best because if you stayed, we both would have gone up in flames." 

Kohaku inhaled deeply while reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I just..." His gaze was anywhere else but your face. "I still loved you. I still couldn't forget you. You were...you were everything. What we had was unforgettable; most things can't even reciprocate the feelings I had with you." Everything mirrored Wilhelmina and Reno so closely that the irony spurred you to laugh. 

Kohaku falls silent as you hold your belly with your arms crossed, hunching over and laughing with your eyes shut. It wasn't funny in a humorous way anymore. It wasn't even funny in a pathetic way, either. 

Loving to live, obsessing over the idea of devotion, you were addicted to the unhealthy toxicity of it. 

Finally, after a moment, you calmed down, only for your face to be soaked in tears and smudged across your skin. "I wish you had told me everything you felt instead of leaving me to my own thoughts and suspicions. My heart was bleeding and it never stopped." 

"I'm...I'm sorry. I know you don't want-" 

"It's fine." You interject and clear your throat. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to dump all this on you and make you feel bad. It wasn't to make you try and fix things by being with me out of pity. I've realized that I was stuck in our history, in love with the you from the past. The man you are today isn't the same person... I don't even know who you are anymore." 

The Oni in front of you had parted his lips, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. Fangs poked out, glinting in the moonlight before he finally closed his mouth and swallowed strenuously. 

Gingerly, he stepped forward and stopped right in front of your body. His large hands reached down, taking your gloved ones in his and squeezing. For a second, you let yourself immerse in the warmth of his inhumanity before pulling away and pushing his arms back towards himself. 

"I had told you to maintain your distance because I could not handle being around you. Now I realize what we need to have: boundaries." Softly patting his hands, you urge him to let them drop by his side. "You cannot treat me like the (Y/n) from before. You cannot compliment me or praise me, or suck up to get what you want. You can't just walk around my place half-naked. In fact, you can't be here anymore while I work on myself. We are not friends; we can't be friends, at least right now... Can you do that?" 

With a solemn nod, the Oni stepped back and shifted to leave the room, yet stopped midway through. His shoulders turned as he looked back to face you and spoke in a hushed voice that you almost missed. 

"Will you at least let me do one more thing?" 

You didn't expect him to ask such a question, so you sat silenced and stunned, your drunk brain buzzing with the remnants of a hangover peeking through. "S-Sure." 

With your approval, Kohaku steps back to stand in front. He's in your bubble, invading it as his hands rise and softly hold the sides of your head. Then he dips down, letting his lips press against your forehead with a fleeting kiss that still lingered when he pulled away. 

"Being with you was an unimaginable experience that I could never forget. You are amazing, just an incredible person. There is no one like you in this world, small town or big city." His voice is soft, precious as he speaks by your ear. "Take all the time you need, (Y/n). I can wait for the day until we can be friends again. Even if I have to wait a hundred years." 

You cannot stop the burning hot tears from expelling past your lids and trading down your neck. The insides of your chest aches; it stings and tightens in your heart as though Kohaku reached forward and tore his way through. 

"I love you."

"I love you too."

And I, oop, I wrote this in three days. It took longer than I expected because I didn't know where I was going with the idea. This also turned out longer and broken into 2 chapters bc as you know, I love writing realism. I want to showcase real emotions and it just wouldn't make sense for Kohaku to get with the reader at the end of this chapter when the whole time he didn't even share those feelings. 

Of course, my heart is hurting bc DAYYUMM, I could never. Reader is better than me. I'd really be way too petty and once I feel wronged, you'll never be in my good gracious ever again.

Anyway, I wanted to try something new and write a love interest that isn't hopeless in love with the reader (*cough* Zagan *cough*). It just hurts so good, the angst rn. The next part is supposed to have a lot of character development and growth + as you know me, we get a little more gang affiliation bc I love bad boys. 

Also Simat is a W and she will go off in the next chapter bc whoever hurts 'mommy' reader will get their throat torn out.

Might kill the reader, idk yet, still jotting it down.

Ps.

I just want to apologize also for being gone for so long without a single chapter update in like 6 months. I had completely lost all motivation after my wattpad, which I spent NINE years curating, was deleted in one night over nothing. It literally felt like all my hard work and recognition was just stolen and left me with nothing.

Of course, I have my quotev and Tumblr, which I am thankful for. Wattpad just had the most engagement and following, and it was easier to communicate with me. I just want so many people to read what I can do and enjoy the creativity of my storytelling. 

↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile or here! Thank you :) 

ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ꜱɪɢɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

[cityofmeliora]

Terzo + children 🥰

Terzo loves and cares about kids so much, and that is one of my favorite things about him.

this is one of my favorite Terzo clips ever. it is SO sweet:

[seeing a baby dressed as Papa Emeritus] PAPA EMERITUS III: Oh hi, little one! Hello! Awww… Now this little guy here… Hey! [UNINTELLIGIBLE] Hey. So pleased to see you. Give it up for the next generation! Fantastic. Good parenting! Unholy / Unplugged - Los Angeles, California, USA (August 20, 2015)

Terzo is always so happy and excited to see kids at his shows.

[sees a child sitting on someone's shoulders in the audience] PAPA EMERITUS III: Hello, little guy! Hello! So happy to see you in here. Leeds Festival - Leeds, England (August 30, 2015)

[sees a small child in the audience] PAPA EMERITUS III: Little one! Big applause for the little toddler! Lawrence, Kansas, USA (October 5, 2015)

and Terzo cares so so much for their well-being and safety.

PAPA EMERITUS III: Oh, by the way, it is very important– you see, there are kids in the crowd, so you have to take it easy a little bit on the moshing. Little girls here, too! They can get squashed! Birmingham, Alabama, USA (May 2, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Just one thing, though, before we continue: I see a lot of small kids here. So please, please take it easy with the kids. Very important. We need to take care of the children. We're here to have fun, but please. Are you with us? PAPA EMERITUS III: Is everybody OK? You kids in the front, are you OK? Everybody happy? I'm saying this once more: it's very, very, very, very fucking utterly important that you are taking good care of the children here in the front. It's all filled with children here in the front, so every big person that comes over this way, it's a very big and lethal risk for them, do you understand? So all you big boys, think a little, would you please? PAPA EMERITUS III: And please, before I get a little bit too repetitive, can you please take fucking care of the children? Yes. I know you're smart, so please show it. Lunatic Luau - Virginia Beach, Virginia, USA (May 6, 2016)

i love the bit he does where he checks if there are kids in the audience and then apologizes for swearing (and then he keeps swearing anyway). he wants to be good for the children, but he really doesn't believe in censorship, haha.

PAPA EMERITUS III: I see a little girl. Hello! Hello. How do you do? Are you having a good time? Is it a good show? Are we playing well for you? Well, thank you so much. You know what? We have a tendency to write songs that sort of deals with how you get little kids like that. Sort of the uh, beginning phase. If there is that many kids here tonight, I don't know, but you have to bear with me. Hello! You're also a kid? OK. Well, I'll cut down on the "cunt"s and "fuck"s and "shit"s. But I have a tendency to be foul-mouthed. Sorry about that. I hope you can bear with me. San Francisco, CA, USA (October 23, 2015)

and there is of course the adorable video of Terzo bringing TF's kids on stage.

PAPA EMERITUS III: You came to here to be scared, right? Are you here to get scared? I've got two little scary ones that want to come out and scare all of y'all. Big round of applause for our little scary ghouls here tonight. Don't they look very scary to you? The Clergy taught them well. Thank you, little ones. Lovely. Give a big round of applause for the new generation of ghouls, who scare all of y'all. Let me lead you into the night… Getaway Rock Festival - Gävle, Sweden (August 8, 2015)

Terzo is such a dad... and he *did* say he has a child. i do think it was just TF slipping up / being unable to stop himself from yapping, but Terzo said it and he didn't take it back, so i'm counting it as canon <3

PAPA EMERITUS III: I guess you all know about the birds and the bees and how it's done, right? We don't have to educate you in that. [looks at parent and child in the audience] I know, I know. She will get there too, I promise. That's the thing, you know... I have a little one too... [puts hand over heart] My god! Geneva, Switzerland (November 19, 2015)

(there are more clips and pictures and stuff, but in the interest of keeping this post a moderate length, this is all im including.)

[araminakilla]

Regarding Death Wolf...

Hear me out (NO, it's not the kind you are thinking)

We know Death has a job, right? To collect souls and most likely release them to the afterlife.

And for this job, he has to be there when somebody is about to die, as demostrated with him being there moments before Puss' eight death.

Supposing he is THE Death and he has been doing this since the beginning of time (or at least when there were enough stories of the Grim Reaper to adquire a physical form) that means he has seen a lot, A LOT of awful things.

Murders, suicides, massacres, death of infants, people who didn't deserve to die alone, animal cruelty, some other heavy stuff I won't mention here, etc etc etc.

And we thought "man, how is he able to cope with all of that? That job has to be utter torture for someone."

Probably many of you could think that he is able to do that because he is Death, and he was "born" with that purpose and only him can reap souls perfectly.

But while he is a force of nature, he also WAS a force of nature. Let me explain it well: He adquired a personality enough to be angry, excited, frustrated, amazed, happy, among other emotions.

While he has supernatural power and is most likely the most powerful being in the Shrek Franchise (or in Dreamworks as many say) he is also a PERSON.

Someone with a code of honor, morals, opinions, beliefs, etc.

Returning to the question "How can he bear all of that?" taking into account he is no longer an inevitable force, but a character of his own.

The answer is something you may relate to, and that is: Creativity and escapism.

To be the embodiment of Death, the guy is a very creative fella.

First of all, his design. I heard many people saying here and in Twitter that his design is something they would come up in their edgy, teen years of drawing their first fursona.

Guess what? They are right, the wolf form is someone's fursona. It's DEATH'S fursona. He clearly came up with this badass, piercing canine form to blend with the Fairy Tale Land assuming the form of the "Big Bad Wolf". He most likely had other forms he designed over the centuries and was able to present as them like if he were on a role play game in the living world.

His sickles? The weapon of choice with the little crossed cats on it to have a bigger effect of terror for Puss? Those who can become knuckles and join to create a scythe? Those are his creation, probably after thinking it for a while and writing all of those functions on a paper.

The way he presents himself? In the bar? The coins in his eyes as a "watching you" sign while being a cool reference to the Ferryman of souls? He transforming Perrito's forest into the background of a skull? The chilling reveal at the Cave of Lost Souls? The fire ring? It was all him.

As for the escapism part...

When the world becomes too heavy to deal with as real life issues tend to make us feel bad, depressed, angry... we tend to escape it somewhere. And in our time the common place would be the internet as in webpages or comics, stories, etc.

But what has to do with Death Wolf you may ask?

Well, while he would NEVER be able to escape his job entirely, he can have moments where he can enjoy a good hunt of people who don't appreciate life, like the whole plot of the Puss in Boots sequel could demostrate.

He managed to have a little time outside his eternal routine to chase an arrogant cat who took life for granted. He enjoyed it, it was thrilling, it was exciting.

It was a way to escape a monotonous, grim "life", if just for a short moment.

So, when the chase ended as his prey no longer feared him and now was ready to fight for his last life, the wolf retreats, happy for Puss' character development but resigned because he once again had to return to "The Eternal Duty"

And that's not even counting all the times Jack "I'm dead inside" Horner had to interrupt Lobo's hunt and remind him of his job even in his "spare time"

Death knew the chase had to end eventually, but he didn't want it to end.

He didn't want to return to his own world

And if we look at Death like that, then he is probably one of the most relatable characters Dreamworks has ever make.

In the Shrek Franchise:

Monsters can be loved

Princesses don't have to fit the perfect standards of beauty

Handsome guys can be possesive jerks

Love at first sight doesn't work like one would think

Happily ever afters had to be built and not just obtain them with magic

And Death is the most creative and "full of life" being in the world

Because he would absolutely go crazy with his life/work if he wasn't.

Because in a world of Kings, Poets and Soldiers, he's the Supreme King

And he's also a perky goth but none of you are ready for that conversation.