#and for some reason tires for my specific are stupid expensive.. it's just a stupid fucking Chevy Cruze why so pricey to fix yoooouuuu

[ghwosty]

had to make multiple responsible adult purchases in a short span of time and can't afford a rock n disc until next pay day, 129 dead 900 injured

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

and for dessert?

pairing: javi x reader

cw's/tags: smut, oral sex, spanish? (i don't speak spanish), unrealistic scenarios, steve voiceover dialogue at the beginning to explain the strange plot

summary: reader is a shy hotel housekeeper of sorts (probably a CIA spy), and brings javi his room service with a special treat

a/n: 'there's a reason magical fake-ism was born in liz's mind..."

this is for @undercoverpena's birthday bash! my color for the color palette was ganache brown, and somehow, ganache is what got us here.

wc: 2k

[Steve Voiceover]: And if I told you that the CIA gave us an all expenses paid vacation at a 5 star hotel with women dressed like French maids providing around the clock service, including "special favors", would you believe me? No? Good. Because that didn't happen. Even if it did, they'd be expecting something in return -- to talk about one thing or to shut up about another. Peña and I aren't liars, but if we were on trial, and the CIA had any stake, this is how they could've won us over. At least, this is Javi's version of the story. 

Sitting in a California king size bed, wearing nothing but a robe embroidered with hotel's logo, Javi sifts through his own guilt to find some self-pity that'll allow him to enjoy this period of respite amidst the general chaos that comes with his career. He and Murphy are given separate rooms -- must be a real special case, considering how much the DEA does to cut corners, thereby cutting costs, and god only knows how much this room would cost him for a week. Escobar levels of cash. 

He gets room service, fresh towels, and a cute girl who delivers them daily. When the CIA wants to influence your testimony, they've got to butter you up first. Actually, they don't. They could torture Javi, threaten his family, even disappear him. Maybe there's poison in his breakfast -- which he eats in bed while watching pay-per-view movies.

The steak you bring him for dinner is good, but the uniform you wear is great. He knows he's being sedated, and he takes it willingly. His dick takes it eagerly -- that specific part of him is the opposite of sedated. 

For the first time in his life, Javi gets tired of jerking off.

"Goddamnit. Really?"

He must be going stir-crazy, talking to his dick like that.

It'd be more convenient for him to stay naked, but he keeps his himself covered out of respect for you. He figures you probably don't get paid enough to wait on nude men, though he doubts it'd be the first time you'd walked into a hotel room to find a man in his birthday suit. Men are gross. Javi can be nasty, but he understands that timing is key. Keep it classy until she asks for it not to be.

Javi's not stupid enough to think the CIA can't hear his phone calls. He doesn't know why they even leave the phone in the room. Maybe for the typical American illusion of freedom or maybe they're just too lazy to come and unplug it.

He could call the concierge, he might even be able to call you. But for some fucking reason, he's on the phone with Steve, who's right down the hall. 

Just to fuck with him, Javi asks, "What are you wearing right now?"

"Uh, A T-shirt and boxers… why?"

"I was joking. Never had phone sex?" He figures the CIA doesn't pay whoever's listening to these calls enough, so he'll give them a little tease as a treat.

"'Course I have." Steve's not the stud that Javi is but his wife's on a different continent, so he'd believe it. "Are you trying to have phone sex with me?"

"I'm not that desperate yet."

"Haven't gone through all the porn on TV yet?"

"Not yet. Still making my way through the stepmom shit. Not really my thing."

There's a lull before Steve suggests something so out of character that Javi would think he was joking in any other circumstance.

"Is your, uh, housekeeper… nice?"

"By nice you mean hot?"

"Yeah."

"Very."

"Wonder if we have the same one."

Javi describes your appearance in detail to Steve - he'd do great as an eye witness if he only had to remember gorgeous women. Steve's description of his housekeeper is more brief but enough to confirm that they are attended to by separate women.

"Guess attractiveness is part of the qualifications," Steve remarks.

"Well, better hope you still have a job after all this 'cause you're sure not getting one here."

"Fuck off. Just 'cause you fuck around doesn't mean you're the hot one in this partnership. In case you've forgotten, I'm the one with the beautiful wife."

"Yeah, and she's way outta your league. Still don't know how you pulled her."

Steve ignores Javi's comment, and continues to brag, "plus, Little Miss Housekeeper said I'm very attractive."

"Oh yeah? How much did you pay her?"

"Nada. Did yours call you 'hermoso'? Did she offer you any extra favors?"

"Extra favors?"

Javi can hear Steve's smug grin on the other end. "She told me 'we do anything to ensure our guests have a pleasurable experience'."

"You think that's real or she was just coming onto you?"

"Dunno. You should try asking your girl- speak of the motherfuckin' devil." And Steve hangs up the phone.

In less than a minute, there's a knock on Javi's door.

"Agent Peña?" He hears your sweet voice say from outside the door, and while the fantasies fly through his head, he forgets a crucial mistake he's made which is not bothering to put on clothes after he'd taken a shower, leaving him in only in a towel when you open the door.

And he's rock-fucking-hard.

You walk in with room service. Fuck. He forgot he'd ordered dessert. Typical display, silver platter atop white tablecloth plus utensils and other expected accoutrements. You're focused on pushing the cart so at first you don't notice but when you do, you apologize profusely.

"Oh my god, Agent Peña. I am so sorry, sir." You turn away from him, fidgeting awkwardly as you stand facing the wall.

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry. I forgot that I ordered dessert. I'll get my pants on so you don't have to see anything."

"Oh. I don't mind--I mean, that's not my concern. I just want to respect your privacy."

"My privacy? If I could walk around naked all the time I would."

"You would?" You take a glance over your shoulder and he's managed to put on his boxers, and is now reaching for a pair of jeans. "You don't mind people seeing you?"

"No," he says, stopping with one leg halfway in his pants, unsure of what you want.

"Well, you are an attractive man, so--I hope you don't mind me saying that."

"I don't. I just hope they pay you well to dish out compliments."

"The compliments are not required by my contract. I was just thinking out loud…" You trail off, shyly looking to the side.

"In that case, I hope you don't mind me saying that you're a very attractive woman."

"Thank you, sir."

God, it goes straight to his dick. There's not much he can do to hide it since he's given up on the jeans idea. (And, let's face it, those jeans leave nothing to the imagination). 

"So, I brought dessert," you transition. 

Usually, you're incredibly professional and prepared, like you've practiced every word in the mirror, but now, you look flustered. It's adorable when you struggle to find the words to describe the dessert. It's almost like you've forgotten what it is until you pull the lid off the tray to reveal it.

"Wow," he says, genuinely in awe of the decadence presented before him.

"It's a chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and strawberries on top… as you can see."

"It's probably poisoned, but I'll risk it anyway. This looks really fuckin' good."

You smile hesitantly and nod, periodically glancing towards the door like you're trying to figure out how to exit the conversation.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," you say, turning to leave the room.

But before your hand reaches the doorknob, Javi says, "Stay."

"Huh?"

"If you can -- If you want to."

"I can, yeah." You walk back towards him, slowly, stopping at the edge of the bed like you're unsure where to go from here.

"Need help getting up here?" he teases.

"No, I can do it," you say, though it does look taxing to climb up onto the tall mattress in those heels.

You sit so prim and proper like a little doll, perfectly posed, which makes Javi feel particularly ill-mannered as he's already devoured almost an entire slice of cake.

"Want some?" he asks, sucking icing off his finger just to see your reaction. And it's even more delicious than the cake itself.

"O-okay." You nod.

He grabs a bite of cake on his fork and brings it towards your mouth like you're newlyweds at your reception. You let him feed you, maintaining eye contact while eat and lick your lips clean. You're playing his game. You must be.

"So, your job here- is it mostly delivering food and towels or is there other stuff you do?"

"We do whatever the guests want… within reason."

"Give me an example."

You not-so-subtly glance at his boxer-clad cock, and then back at his face. "As long as it's legal, we can do whatever we want for the most part."

"And what do you want?"

When you look down, away from his eyes, getting all nervous again, he lifts your chin. "Dime lo que quieres," he says, much softer.

"I want you. I want to make you feel good."

You get closer to him, he thinks you're going for his lips but you're not, your hand brushes his bare stomach and slides down, but you stop at his waistband.

"May I?"

"Fuck yes."

For a shy girl, you sure know what you're doing. You get him riled up with playful licks around the tip, a flick of the tongue up the slit that makes him gasp, and you press sloppy kisses down his length, leaving lipstick marks all along his shaft.

It's not long before he feels his orgasm start to build, so he swiftly pulls you up, so that you're on your knees. You look almost dazed, especially so with your makeup all messy. He coaxes your hips up further until your core hovers over his face.

Javi has a one track mind when it comes to these kinds of things. Pussy makes him stupid. Earlier that day he fantasized about what color panties you might be wearing under your skirt. He had to force himself to look away when you bent down to grab something you'd dropped, he'd feel like a creep knowing he'd get off to a mishap like that. But he imagined you in pink, red, white, lace, satin, and everything in between.

He's surprised to find that you're not wearing any of those, you're not wearing anything at all.

He quirks an eyebrow up at you. "Brought me dessert, huh, hermosa?"

You nod. Yes, of course you did. Warm and glazed with your arousal.

"Quiero saborearte," he whispers, dragging you towards his eager mouth. 

You're perfectly pliant for him. His grip on your hips, your ass, your thighs is steady but gentle. He tries to take his time. A woman is a delicacy. He should savor you. He gets lost in the sweetness, buries his face between your thighs and allows his restrained dedication to become messy and reverent.

You call him by his first name for the first time. Javier. It's all he recognizes in your jumbled sentences.

He hums an affirmation. Mm-hmm. You're okay. Mm-hmm. I know. Mm-hmm. Please, give it to me. Let go.

Your climax hits so hard you lurch forward and grab the headboard while Javi guides you through it. With how loud you're being, he's certain Murphy will be calling him to congratulate him on his good work.

But before that, he realizes the mistake he's made -- a cardinal sin if making love is a religion (and the way Javi views it, it should be) -- he hasn't kissed you.

"Dame un beso," he says.

When you kiss him, he finds that your lips are just as sweet as the other pair between your thighs.

[nellielsss]

ƈɧąʂıŋɠąŋɠɛƖʂ.ƈơɱ ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Summary: where lonely hearts can congregate & explore new, exciting taboos! what do you get when you pair a lonely divorcée with an equally lonely girl? find out here, at chasingangels.com! Note: I saw a janitor AI bot that was like a dating app and was inspired to write this, I also just wanted to write about the issues of finding a good match as a trans girl! y'know, since a lot of us tend to fuck w DL men 💀 reader is also kinda Gyaru-coded in terms of appearance but she's not fully immersed in Gyaru culture. Warnings: website is implied to be for chasers (men who go after trans women specifically), protected sex, rough sex, kinda angst + comfort Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x mtf!reader WC: 14.5k words... yeah I'm not proofreading this ☠️ if it has bad grammar or cringy dialogue anywhere my apologies!!! this fic took me like 5 days so I'm glad to be done w it

╰┈➤ "And... still nobody worth it," you sighed, clicking off from the website that you'd spent weeks surfing through. You put your laptop back in your Hello Kitty computer sleeve, put it in your purse, and went on your way.

The website you'd decided to put your love life line on the line for, chasingangels.com, was proving to be a hopeless endeavor. Every single day, the thought about abandoning that stupid, niche website and going back to your past days of Grindr seemed more enticing the longer you spent your time alone. The website that promised trans girls like you with a promising love life was turning out to be a gimmick, probably made to steal your data so that it could be sold to some third party buyer. It's not like it mattered to you--you didn't have nuclear codes saved on your device--but it was just so tiring.

All of it was so tiring.

All your life, you'd been quite lonely, a fact that your headstrong nature refused to admit. You grew up with everything a girl like you could've possibly hoped for: you had a loving family who accepted you for your transgender identity, plenty of friends who also accepted you, and all the money needed to buy you your expensive makeup & hormones that you'd need to become the woman you always wanted to be. Truth be told, you were quite blessed in every facet of life--you were beautiful enough before starting the hormones to pass for a cisgender woman!

But, sadly, the only facet you lacked in was love.

A curse was bestowed upon you at birth: the curse of a male body, and that same curse was the reason you never had any prospects.

The moment you told a guy about your condition, he'd run away without a second thought. Either they blocked you or did a 180 and asked you if they could play with your... male genitalia.

The few who chose to stay only ever did so by texting you after 11 PM, and the most they did was ask you for sexual favors instead. Not once did a guy hold you while wept; not once did a guy want to bring you home to mama; not once did a guy talk to you for more than a month. And what was most humiliating was you'd only ever talked to three guys--a low, single-digit number!

By the time you graduated college and entered the workforce, nothing changed, absolutely nothing. If anything, your prospects shrank, and you weren't even talking to a single guy over the phone. You were hopeless, utterly hopeless in the romantic department.

"Don't worry about it, you're too good for any man's attention!"

Said the girl with a loving boyfriend of a year.

"You already have a high paying job and a pretty face to boot, what more could you possibly want?"

Maybe the touch of a loving partner?

You were hopeless. Hopeless enough to put your trust in some shady website that one of your friends told you about, which led you to the website known as chasingangels.com. You were beginning to believe that this was all some elaborate emotional ponzi scheme, set up by people who took pleasure in breaking trans girls' hearts.

"Is it my profile?" you thought to yourself on the train. You were currently on the train to Omotesando, meeting up with said girlfriend who recommended you the site. You went under the guise of trying out a new restaurant, but in actuality you were gonna chew her out for getting your hopes up, get a beverage on the way home, and then watch some Shōjo before going to bed.

And all in a day's time... truth be told, these were what your days consisted of outside of work: drinks, meetups, and romance anime. Though most people would've looked down upon you for living such a monotonous life, you found solace in it.

There wasn't much a girl like you could do except spend her hard-earned money on snacks & clothes. Perhaps you'd get lucky and stop by a Hello Kitty store along the way? Maybe you could even adopt another cat just to be less lonely.

The loud ding! of a notification in your airpods made you jerk up in surprise, and you immediately grabbed your phone. Most apps weren't important enough to have a sound notification on, so you wondered what it could possibly be.

Wait, why were you so surprised? It was probably just an SMS message from your friend. You calmed yourself down, unlocked your phone, and swiped through your notifications until you saw it.

That godforsaken website--you made a mental note to delete it later.

👼 chasingangels.com

ミ☆ You have 1 New Message!

Tojifushiguro1: Hey there, saw your profile and thought you looked cute. Wanna get a drink & get to know each other better?

A guy who used punctuation and capitalization? He must've been old, definitely not your-

You let out an audible gasp on the train when you clicked on his profile, and you also had to turn down the brightness on your phone as well, because the profile that you just tapped on?

The profile was enough for you to make your cross your legs together.

This guy--Toji Fushiguro--was a fucking wet dream.

With shaky hands and a pounding heart, you sifted through the seven photos that he'd put up on his profile. They were all a bit shitty with bad lighting or they were taken by other people, but goddamn was that a man!

For starters, his face must've been crafted by Narcissus himself. A strong bone structure, green eyes that pierced into an onlooker's soul, and that delicious scar on his lip that only added to his appeal. He had some wrinkles underneath his eyes, no doubt indicating that he was a bit older than you.

The next photo almost made you choke on your own spit in the train. It was a full body shot of him standing up with a guy (whose face he made sure to blur out), and by god was he the definition of an adonis even with clothes on. Just by standing still w/ a straight face without doing anything extra, you could make out some broad shoulders, arms that were probably bigger than your head, traps that tapered into a thin, toned waist, and a thick, muscular chest that you just wanted to lay your head on!

When you got to the shirtless photos you had to put your phone away for a good second before looking at the rest of his profile. His body was a marble statue straight out of the Roman Empire, complete with shredded abs, intense vasculature, and everything else that a girl could want in a man's body.

You knew that where you lived, the ideal male standard was more feminine than masculine, therefore you knew that finding a man like him was like finding a tiny shard of a diamond deep inside of a coal mine. Coincidentally, he was also exactly your type, so every atom in your body screamed at you to get on it and reply!

But you were rational; you didn't think with your pussy. You looked at all the photos in detail to get a better idea of what he was like, and you also examined his bio for any red flags. So far, the only ones that stuck out to you were his single father status & the fact that he was on a dating site designed for connecting men with trans women--the name literally had the verb "chase" in it!

°•. ★ .•° Tojifushiguro1's FAQ:

Age: 35

Sexuality: straight

Marital status: divorced w/ 1 kid

Likes: UFC fights, fishing, 90s rock, a good beer

Looking for: a girl who knows how to have fun & also get serious, someone mature.

Yeah, he totally fit the image he portrayed. He might've only been 35 but he typed like a boomer with the lack of description in his bio & the message that was chalked full of grammar and proper spelling. The images he'd included in his profile were also so very different from the design and aesthetic of this website, it almost made you laugh.

This man could also be catfishing you, so you made sure to do a quick reverse search...

... and nothing. Wow, so this guy really existed, and he also really wanted you.

Wait a damn minute. He, an adonis, with probably more prospects than a computer science student's job offers, wanted you: a girl who couldn't get dick to save her life?!

What kind of an idiot were you--get on with it already!!

With shaky fingers, you opened his message and looked at it over & over again. If you didn't reply, then you'd be safe, but you'd also potentially miss out on something exciting; however, if you did reply, then the trajectory of your life could possibly change forever.

With even shakier fingers, you typed out a response to his dm:

automaticprincess7: Hi! I'm so glad you clicked on my profile out of all the others--I would love to meet up with you somewhere! Although, I gotta warn you: I don't drink much... maybe a coffee shop would be nicer?

tojifushiguro1 is typing...

Oh god, he was already typing that out?! He did send the initial message two minutes ago...

tojifushiguro1: I'll go anywhere if it means I get to see that pretty face in person ;)

Just in the second message alone, he was laying on the charm, you could see that much. He didn't seem like the type of guy to hold out on what he wanted or beat around the bush--just your type. You hated guys your age for playing games and stringing you along for no reason, so you welcomed the change of pace.

automaticprincess7: Fushiguro!! Ur already making me blush while I'm on the train... >///<

tojifushiguro1: I can't wait to make you blush even harder in person, doll. Why don't we meet up tomorrow? I ain't got work, so I'm free all day long.

Tomorrow--he wanted to meet with you tomorrow?! But... but that was so quick, you haven't had enough time to even mentally prepare yourself for this hunk of a man!! Then again, what difference does it make if all you're looking for is a guy who'll give you some attention & pipe? Still, you had to play coy--you can't be so forward just yet.

automaticprincess7: but that's so early...

tojifushiguro1: why, you got work tomorrow?

automaticprincess7: no, I'm also free; honestly, truth be told, I've never met up with anyone online like this, especially not from this website.

tojifushiguro1: really? I'd imagined a girl as gorgeous as you would've had plenty of men lining up to take her out for dinner--I was just hoping to be next in line haha.

automaticprincess7: well, not exactly...!

tojifushiguro1: so this means I'll be the one to pop your internet cherry, huh? Well then, ain't I a lucky guy?"

automaticprincess7: ewww, don't call it that!!

tojifushiguro1: I'm just messin' with ya, doll. Anyway, does tomorrow work? I'll need to find a babysitter for the kid soon, so I need a yes or no.

Right, he was a single father... still, he was just so enigmatic, so attractive, you'd be a fool to let it go to waste over him having a child.

automaticprincess7: yeah, tomorrow's fine. I guess I was just nervous ( ๑´⌓ `๑ )

tojifushiguro1: it's no biggie, cutie. Since it's your first time meeting with a stranger online, I can imagine you'd be scared. So, let's say 6? And what place works best for you? We can even grab dinner after if you're up for it.

automaticprincess7: there's this one coffee place I like in Harajuku. It's secluded enough for this kinda stuff, and it's close enough to any activities that might be fun: (insert coffee shop name).

tojifushiguro1: overpriced coffee with an angel like you? Heh, sign me up!

automaticprincess7: hey, don't insult them, they have my fav drinks!!

tojifushiguro1: messing with you over text is so fun. Anyway, 6 PM tomorrow at that place? Sounds like a plan. I can't wait to see you in person, gorgeous ;) You & I are gonna have so much fun, doll, just you wait.

automaticprincess7: see you tomorrow, Toji!! (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)

tojifushiguro1: those lil' emojis you send are so adorable, just like the rest of ya.

You had to put your phone down because of how red your face was. If anyone saw you in this state, they'd probably think that you were deathly feverish and needed to go to the hospital, but if you spent the night with him, you probably would need to.

Your mind was reeling with everything that had just happened. The prospect of meeting a guy for the first time; the prospect of going on a date with an insanely hot guy; the prospect of going home & having sex with said insanely hot guy; and the prospect of it leading to something better. You knew your prayers of this working out would fall on deaf ears and that this guy was probably in it for just the sex, but there was this feeling, this voice in your head telling you to go for it.

Normally, you'd ignore that said voice, but maybe following that voice would bring some color back into your life.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Enter Toji Fushiguro

╰┈➤ "Fuckin' christ is that girl adorable," Toji muttered to himself when he put his phone down. "I could just eat her for breakfast, lunch & dinner."

After hopeless hours of surfing through this website "Chasingangels.com" with all of its annoyingly bright colors and cutesy aesthetics, Toji had finally settled on a girl who he felt was worth the trouble of reaching out to. All these other profiles he'd swiped on were either not his type or were looking for a good time, not a long time, so when he finally found you, he felt like he'd just won big at the horse races he quit going to. Seriously, you were such a stroke of luck that he considered going out to gamble.

But, after his late wife had died, and after he'd made that promise to quit all his vices, he wasn't actually gonna go gamble his savings away.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand: your profile.

Even after he put his phone down to clear his mind, he reached for it & continued looking at your profile, his green eyes scrutinizing every single detail and just taking it all in. You were gorgeous, that much was true, but there was also something so yummy, so saccharinely sweet about the way you looked at the camera with your raspberry lip gloss and your big brown eyes and your long lashes and your everything that compelled him to DM you.

You... you were just a walking wet dream, you were perfect in every single way. Not only were you insanely attractive, but you also had the right criteria in your bio: your frontal lobe had developed (you were 25) & you were looking for something serious.

Bingo.

But, at the same time, Toji knew good and well that a girl like you was hard to come by, so he sent that DM without any hope of getting one in return. Surely a gorgeous gal like you had plenty of offers, right? He also knew that using a website like this was quite unsavory, even for him. This website, chasingangels.com, was supposed to be a "dating website" for transgender women, but he knew good and well that this site housed some... off individuals.

It was all in the name of the website. Chasing angels? Seriously? The developers couldn't have come up with a better website name that wasn't so fetishizing? Part of him wondered what the hell a girl like you was doing on this site--a site that was meant to give men direct access to trans women. Part of him also wondered why he, himself, was on this website to begin with. Was he seriously turning into one of them, one of those "chasers" that were known to use trans women? And would you categorize him as such?

Those little thoughts of self-doubt were quickly wiped away when you replied within two minutes of him sending that message.

Was fortune finally smiling upon him? Were the lonely nights he spent in the company of prostitutes and random flings coming to a close with you?

Were you the angel he's been chasing all this time? And did he finally catch you?

The conversation with you went smoother than expected, if he was being honest. You talked just how you looked: like an angel, with your bashful replies & those cute little emoticons that you used. He made sure to lay on the charm thick, since it was all he knew how to do when he was flirting with a girl he liked, and it paid off because now he had a date with the girl of his dreams tomorrow.

All he had to do now was find a babysitter for little 8 year old Megumi, and he'd be golden.

He promptly exited out of the website and called up his go-to babysitter, Satoru Gojo, to see if he was available for the evening & night. He swore he heard trumpets from heaven when the white-haired man said he'd be available.

He practically got on his knees and looked up at the ceiling. "Whoever you are... thank you."

Next on the agenda would be to prepare for said date tomorrow.

There was no way that this was the same man you talked to online (and no, he didn't catfish you). How could a man be so.... large?!

Flashback to a few hours ago when you were first getting ready for your little date. "I'm going on a date, on a date, on a date~! Oooh, I may be getting some dick tonight~!!" You sang to yourself as you got ready for your date. You were busy putting in your hot rollers, trying to snap them into place so that they wouldn't fall out and potentially burn you.

You didn't sleep a wink during the entire night. The images of that guy, that hunky dilf who you somehow managed to snag before anyone else did. You were honestly pretty surprised that you accomplished such a feat--any girl would be lucky to be underneath that fine specimen! Then again, maybe the people who used the website didn't like big, strong men with a face so rideable that you could probably cum 5 times just by grinding against his nose... either way, you were a lucky, lucky girl!

Once the rollers were in place, you pulled out all the stops to make sure that your makeup was in tip-top shape. A matte, blurring primer (which could be classified as industrial grade); pink cherry blossom setting powder just so that you could look extra pink and girly; a touch of eyelid glitter just to make your eyes sparkle... you even followed an elaborate tutorial on Youtube just so that you could charm him with your eyes.

Everything was coming together perfectly. There were no stray streaks of eyeliner, nor was your makeup crusty or cakey; it was simply perfect.

Taking out your hot rollers, you grabbed a hairbrush and styled it to your liking with a headband, then you spritzed on some perfume and went to pick out the perfect outfit to charm him. Clearly, he had a thing for girly girls, so a pink outfit would do just the trick. Your outfit for the date consisted of a pink puff-sleeve top along with a pleated denim mini-skirt, your signature Tiffany & Co. initial necklace, a charm bracelet, a cute little rhinestone belt and some strappy sandals to complete the look.

You took a good, long look in the mirror and smiled to yourself. It sure was a shame that you being transgender got in the way of a lot of your relationships, and the fact that this was probably just to meet up for sex... but it was still nice to get dolled up.

"What do you think, Cupcake?" you asked your fluffy black cat who had a pink collar around her neck. You scratched your little cat's chin and gave her a few butt pats before standing up again.

You made your way over to the front door of your apartment, put all your belongings in your pink Chanel, and made sure to remember your keys. "Wish me luck," you said to your cat as you left. You locked the door behind you, and set out for the nearest train station.

Which was how you ended up standing outside of the coffee shop that the two of you agreed to meet at. It was an odd time to go to a coffee shop, since most people went in the morning, but not everybody met up with strangers on the internet for sexual favors. You texted Toji that you were here and pushed open the glass doors of the shop.

"He shouldn't be too hard to miss-" you stopped dead in your tracks when you caught sight of the man. To say that he was hot was an understatement, because this man was just delectable.

Oh... my... god." He wasn't, in fact, too hard to miss, since he was A. one of the only patrons there, and B. huge. As in, he took up the entirety of his chair & had to spread his legs around the table so that he wouldn't be uncomfortable. And the best part?

He looked even better in person!!

The simple white sweater that he donned was stretched around his frame, and you could see the outline of his broad shoulders & his traps. The sleeves were rolled up around his forearms, giving you a delicious sight of his thick, veiny forearms, and his big hands that were clutching the menu like it was a little sheet of paper only made you wanna rub your thighs together. His legs were a whole other story: his muscular thighs were stretching his black pants (but not to the extent to where he looked goofy), and all you wanted to do was just sit on his lap!!

Your little rambling was interrupted when he looked up from the menu and right at you. He had a little look of shock on his face for a split second before he cracked a smile, and you felt like butter melting on a hot day from the way he looked at you.

"U-Um, hi," was the first thing you squeaked out to him. Normally, you were a confident girl; but right now, you were reduced to mere prey under the gaze of this man.

"Hey, sweetheart. Please, have a seat." He made the effort to get up and pull your seat out for you, and you offered him a bashful smile.

"Thank you," you all but whispered, letting him push you in. He then took his seat from across the table, and the two of you sat in silence for a few seconds. You could hear the intense, almost unbearable beat of your heart pounding in your ears, and you looked down at the table out of nervousness. Every time you looked up at Toji, your eyes immediately darted back to their original position, and your cheeks got even redder.

"My god, are you pretty," his deliciously raspy voice remarked when he decided to break the silence. "I mean, I bet you get that a lot, but... damn."

You squeaked in response and retreated into yourself further. "I don't get that a lot, but... T-Thank you, F-Fushiguro," you stammered. You were fumbling this date by the second, but it was practically impossible to even talk to this Adonis that was right in front of you.

A few more moments of silence until he decided to speak up again. "Doll, I gotta ask you something: am I really that scary?"

The question made you look at him out of confusion rather than fluster. "Huh? Um... no? Why do you ask?"

He relaxed a little further into his seat and folded his arms over his chest. "Because the entire time we've been on this little date, you've been starin' at the damn table. C'mon, you've gotta give me somethin' to work with here. I wanna get to know you a little bit, pretty!" He said.

You almost felt bad for the guy right about now. Here he was, going on this date that he went out of his way to ask you out on, and you were staring at the table like an idiot.

"I'm sorry," you laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck, "I'm not really experienced at going on dates... this is the first one I've been on in a while." For whatever reason, this guy made you feel more & more comfortable the longer you were around him.

"Well that makes two of us," he chortled. "I haven't been on one in months, myself. That little website was probably my last resort. If I gave up on it, I would've given up on going on dates altogether."

"Oh, right, you're divorced..." you trailed off, feeling bad for the guy.

He shrugged. "'s nothin'. Haven't seen my ex-wife in ages, anyway; my son and I get along just fine."

"Well, that's good to hear," you smiled at him. "Yeah, I see a lot of single fathers and divorcées passing through that site. Most of them are just ex-pats."

"Really, now?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow. "I would've thought that being a single father makes me more unappealing."

You shrugged. "It doesn't make a difference to me, or the rest of the girls on that site at that. Most people just use that website for hookups, anyway."

His other eyebrow raised, and he looked at you with more curiosity. "Really, now? Huh... I never would've guessed. This whole time, I thought that everyone on there was just an asshole; I didn't think that the site was made for hookups."

"It's not advertised for hookups, but people treat it as such. Most dating sites like that just end up getting used for hookups."

"Hm," he said, looking off to the side. "So what the hell were you doing on that site to begin with?"

This made you look at him with more confusion. "Huh?"

He leaned forward, now putting his forearms on the table. "I mean: what the hell was a pretty girl like you doing on a hookup website?"

"I-I don't use it for hookups!" you said defensively, putting your hands up. "I just... look, it was the only available site for women like me, and I was sick of people on regular dating apps blocking me after I told them that I was trans. I sure as shit didn't wanna use Grindr, so that website was also my last resort. Speaking of, what were you doing on that website if you were looking for more than just hookups?"

Toji shrugged again. "I dunno, honestly. I just went on it without a second thought. I tried other websites out, but none of 'em gave me any results."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "So you went on a website that was specifically for men who liked trans women...?"

He was a bit caught off guard by your observation, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "The way you're saying it makes me sound like some sorta creep... But, you're not entirely wrong. When I first saw an advertisement for that website, I was intrigued, to say the least. I thought that, since I had so much bad luck on the normal sites, why not try somethin' different? I've always been kinda curious about trans women, too. Part of me wondered what it'd be like to date one, and so I was led to that website."

Your expression slightly fell, and you realized what this guy's deal was. "Oh, so you're... you're one of those guys," you said quite bitterly.

Toji picked up on this and freaked out a little bit. "N-No, I'm not like that! I'm not some fetishizing prick who wants a hookup; I'm just a lonely guy who's looking for something, alright? I've been lonely for so long that I'm willing to try anything with any type of girl. It doesn't matter if she's cis or trans; I just want something--anything, any kind of connection." He took a deep breath, feeling like he was digging himself into a hole the more he spoke. "Fuck... I'm making this worse for myself, aren't I?"

You were now feeling sorry for the guy for a whole different reason. "No, Fushiguro, I get it... dating as a single father must be tough for you. And, I can see the appeal of trying out dating with a different type of woman, expanding your horizons. Even though you might be using a site that hosts a lot of creeps, you're using it with good intentions." Your frown relaxed into a smile, and he felt his heart skip a beat when you smiled at him. "So I guess I won't be getting my hopes down."

Toji gave you another look of shock, and he felt his cheeks heat up just a little--that smile of yours was just so beautiful. His look of shock changed into a smile, and he intertwined one of his fingers with yours. "Well, ain't I a lucky bastard," he chuckled, already easing back into the date. "So, gorgeous, why don't we start over?"

You nodded and smiled brighter at him. "I think we should."

"Good," he hummed, reaching out to shake your hand. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Toji Fushiguro. Mind telling me about yourself, beautiful?"

You giggled at all the pet names and the compliments he was throwing your way. "My name's (Y/N), (L/N), and I don't mind at all."

Maybe... maybe this wouldn't just be a sex thing.

"I've gotta say, doll: meeting up with you has got to be one of the best decisions I've ever made," Toji said as the two of you walked out of the coffee shop together. Naturally, a guy as big as him dwarfed you, and so he had to crane his head just a lil' to look down at you. It's not like you were one of those "I'm so small and fragile!" girls--but next to him, you might as well have been.

'He's so handsome... I'm surprised I could even have a full on conversation with him. Props to myself for not screwing it up!'

He reached out to sling his big arm around your shoulders, and he pulled you into his embrace slightly. "You don't mind if I do this, right?" he purred suavely into your ear. "Sorry if I'm being a lil' too touchy, doll--I'm just not sure what girls like you are into. A lot of people don't like to be touched by people they don't know all that well."

If you were being honest, you were probably one of those people who didn't like physical contact; but with him, you were too into it to say no. "Well, I don't usually touch people like this, but I feel comfortable around you, so do as you please."

"Do as I please?" he repeated, leaning down to tickle your ear with his breath. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind for later."

Your first instinct was to worm your way out of his grasp and away from his seductive tongue, but his grip was so strong that you couldn't even budge. "T-Toji..." this was the first time you used his given name.

He felt his heart skip a beat when you used his name, but he masked it well. "What, doll? Ah, you're so cute when you're nervous... You can't exactly blame a guy for trying, right?" He let his grip loosen just a tad in case you were uncomfortable. "Anyway, where do you think we should head off to next?"

"Hm?" you asked, looking up at him. "You wanna go somewhere now? I thought that we were just going for coffee?"

"You've gotta be kiddin' me, doll... what, you thought that it was just a coffee thing? I ain't letting go of you that quickly," he snorted. "Besides, I've got someone watchin' over my kid for the rest of today & tonight, so my schedule's completely free."

"O-Oh, well I guess that's nice to hear!" you replied, trying to muster up the most confident smile you could. "Well, we are in Harajuku, so there's plenty to do around here."

Toji thought about it for a second. "Hm... to be honest, I'm thinking that we should just head back to my place--if you're up for it, at least. We could also head back to yours, or go to a love hotel. Preferably one that isn't shitty or full of diseases."

You immediately tensed up again when he brought up the idea of taking your date to somewhere more intimate or private. "Y-You don't wanna, like, go to the park or anything?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't; too many little shits and dogs running around to stay focused on my pretty date."

And there it was: that skip of the heartbeat when he buttered you up with his nicknames.

"We could also pick up some food on the way there. Y'know, make it more romantic? A full-on date, full of snacks and drinks before we get to the good part?"

You mulled over the different ideas that he proposed. You might've been completely into the guy; however, you weren't stupid. If you went back to his place, then you could be kidnapped or killed. There was also the possibility of his apartment being shitty (you've had your fair share of guys with garbage lining their rooms & mattresses on the floor). If you went back to your place, then there was also the possibility of him being a creep, and if he were a creep, then you wouldn't want him to know where you lived. A love hotel was probably the safest bet for a hookup, but there was also the possibility of the love hotel being shitty.

Did you even want to hookup with the guy? Well, he was very hot, and the chemistry between the two of you was off the charts, but this was a guy who wanted to get to know you better, and that rarely happened! Most guys were only ever into hookups, and hookup culture was draining. On one hand, you were a hopeless romantic; on the other hand, you were horny and in desperate need of some good pipe. What to do, what to do...

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?" Toji asked you, breaking you out of the prison that was your thoughts. "It's all up to you, doll. I mean, it's not like we're never gonna see each other again, right?"

"I guess you have a point," you remarked with a bashful smile.

"But why not have a little bit of fun while we're at it?" For whatever reason, his lips were right up against your ear again.

"Gah!" you yelped. He couldn't help but chuckle in response.

"C'mon, baby, don't you wanna have some fun tonight? I'm told I'm very good in bed--I know plenty of tricks that'll make your head spin. But what we do tonight is all up to you," he reminded you, letting go of you for a sec. "If you're not comfortable with it, then I'm not gonna force you. I ain't that type of guy."

His reassurance that it was all up to you was enough to make you make up your mind. It didn't seem like his words were laced with malice or manipulation; you genuinely felt like he was telling you the truth. He was an older guy, yes, and older guys could be creepy...

... but he wasn't that type of older guy. He wasn't one to play games or sleep around, nor was he the type to coerce naive young girls into his bed. If he did, he wouldn't have gone after someone whose frontal lobe was fully developed. He liked his girls girly, yes, but he also liked them with a brain and common sense.

And so, with a determined smile, you said: "No, Toji, I want to... I wanna spend the night with you. Preferably in a love hotel."

His face turned in your direction, and the smirk on his face turned into a toothy grin... which was more creepy than handsome, if you were being honest.

"That's more like it, sweetheart," he said, pulling you into the crook of his arm. "I'll make it 100% worth your while, don't even worry about it. Just leave it to Toji."

Was this a mistake? Or was this a good idea? Only time could tell. The sound of your pink Chanel heels clicking on the pavement & each step the two of you took towards the love hotel he already had picked out was a sign of what was to come.

"Thank you very much, sir! Please enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let us know if you need anything!" the welcoming receptionist of the love hotel said while handing Toji the keycard.

"Will do," Toji nodded, taking the card happily. He may not have been showing it, but he was more than eager to get on with this night. His fingers were fidgeting slightly, and the only thing that could quell his nerves would be a taste of you. He couldn't resist the urge to throw his arm around your waist and pull you in. 'She's so soft and squishy, I can't help but wonder how she'll feel underneath me. But, why's she so nervous? Aren't I a charming fellow?' Toji thought as he led the two of you to the elevator. "What's got you so nervous, sweetheart? I can feel all that tension that's built up inside of ya." You squeaked a little when he tightened his arm around your waist. "God, you're adorable... you're like a little marshmallow I can't wait to sink my teeth into."

"W-Well it's kinda hard to be calm when you're saying all that stuff," you said, the nervousness in your voice evident.

He listened to what you were saying and let out a sigh. "I get it, I get it. I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous, too. Well, more antsy than anything. You're just so fuckin' pretty that I just can't sit still! God, could this elevator be any slower?" he asked, tapping his foot on the linoleum floor.

"Just hold your horses, T-Toji," you said, trying to quell the nerves of the guy you were about to have sex with. "I wanna psyche myself up, okay?"

He offered you a remorseful smile and loosened his grip on your waist. "Alright, alright, I'll cool it down just for your sake, pretty. We've got all night long, anyway."

The rest of the elevator ride was quite silent with the ding of the elevator being the only sound made. Once you made it onto your guys' floor, the other sounds filling up the hallway were the sounds of couples having sex. Though you were no stranger to sex, you still had some sense of decency, so the sounds being made were quite embarrassing to listen to.

Toji took note of your discomfort, and he couldn't resist the urge to tease you just a little bit. "Soon, we'll be joining them with our own sounds," he croaked into your ear, making you jolt.

"D-Don't tease me like that! At least not until we're in the room itself..."

"It's just a little bit of teasing, doll--y'know I don't mean it like that."

Once you made it in front of your door, Toji grabbed the keycard and slid it into the lock, then promptly opened the door. "After you, m'lady," Toji said courteously.

"Thank you," you hummed with Toji following after you. The love hotel was Parisian-themed, and it was evident from the Eiffel tower decoration behind the bed as well as the faux-balcony that led to the outside. The bathroom had a large jacuzzi with gilded faucets, and if this wasn't a love hotel then you would've thought that you were in Versailles. "Well, this is something," you remarked as you set your bag down.

"Only the best for my gorgeous girl," Toji hummed, walking towards you. His first instinct was to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in for a kiss, but you put your hands and stopped him. "What's wrong? Did I do somethin' wrong?"

He truly was a gentleman.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong, Toji," you reassured him. "Remember when I said I was nervous?"

He sighed, letting his hands fall to his side. "Doll, c'mon--you've gotta give me space to work with. How am I supposed to make you feel good if you don't let me?"

You tried to calm yourself down, but it didn't do anything. "'m sorry, Toji... I'm the worst possible girl to take out."

"You're not the 'worst possible'; you're just a little nervous, and that's understandable. But the way you keep refusing my advances and offers to help you calm down is starting to get on my nerves a little." He thought about what he could do to help you unwind, and he finally came up with an idea. "I know: why don't we start off with a little bit of foreplay? Y'know, some making out followed by taking these pesky clothes off? I really, really wanna make this work between us, baby... but you've gotta trust me. It won't feel good if there's no mutual trust."

You thought over everything you said, and it all sounded good--quite appealing, at that. While you were nervous of getting down to it, you still wanted it. You wanted Toji to make you feel good because you trusted & were attracted to him.

"Yeah, that sounds good," you finally said at last. Toji released the breath he was holding and smiled at you.

"Thank you... thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," he murmured into your ear. He pulled you close and gave you a light kiss on the cheek, putting his hands on your waist to steady you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby, you're not even gonna remember why you were nervous to begin with."

"I trust you-" he cut you off by moving his lips to yours, and he captured them in a featherlight kiss. "Toji..." you whispered into the kiss.

"Yeah, that's it--say my name," he murmured, pressing an even deeper kiss to your lips. "God, you taste so fuckin' sweet, baby," he whispered, "lemme kiss you some more, 'kay?"

He sat down on the bed and pulled you in by the waist, his big hands keeping a firm grip on your body so that you wouldn't go anywhere. Even his hands dwarfed your body, that was how big he was!

The more he kissed you, the more you relaxed and let him do what he thought felt right. Before you knew it, the two of you were engaged in a heated make-out session, the sounds of your sighs & lips smacking providing a soundtrack to the night. While it may have just been foreplay, you were already melting into it. "More... I want more, Toji~" you whined into his mouth.

"You want more already, pretty thing?" he rasped, his hands exploring your body like an untouched treasure, "use your words, baby. Tell Toji what you want--clearly."

"I want you... to keep kissin' me... touch me some more..." you grabbed his hand and guided it up your shirt, and you squeezed your breast with his hand. "I want you to touch me right there- oh~!"

He didn't need any direction, already squeezing your tit through your bra. "You like it when I squeeze your tits, baby? How about I squeeze this other one, hm? Wouldn't want it to get lonely, now, would you?" His little questions, sweet-talking and his big hands were turning your knees into wobbly jelly.

"Yeah~ yeah~ gimme more, Toji, fuck--I want all of that!" you exclaimed into his lips.

"Just as I thought: underneath that nervous little exterior of 'yers, you're a little slut, ain't ya?" he gave you a smirk and bit down on your bottom lip, making you yelp into the kiss. "Fuck, just listen to all of those sweet noises, baby--my dick's so fuckin' hard for ya. Can't you feel it, baby?" he even grabbed your hand and made you palm his erection, and he let out a deep sigh once you did so. "Those little hands of yours... fuck, I can't wait to feel 'em wrapped around my cock."

Your hands used to be a source of discontent for you, given how... manly they looked, but compared to Toji's hands? Well, they were dwarfed entirely.

"J-Just how big are you?" you asked out of nervousness once you felt the full weight and size of his erection.

"Wait and see, baby girl," he purred, offering you a cocky smirk. He knew he was well-endowed, and he knew that he was good at using those inches. "Or would you rather skip all the foreplay and get to the good stuff?"

You shook your head, still palming his erection. "No, I still wanna ease into it," you said.

"Have it your way, then. This night's all about you, sweet stuff." He resumed his kissing, this time latching his lips onto your jawline & trailing his lips down to your chest. You had an affinity for low-cut tops, so it gave him the perfect amount of space to pepper kisses on. "Mmmm... yeah, you are definitely some sweet stuff," he murmured, pressing kisses to your chest.

"Mn~" you moaned softly, biting your lips as if you were embarrassed of the way this man made you feel.

"Oh? You like it when I kiss you there?" he asked, peppering more kisses to your cleavage.

"Yeah, I do, Toji~" you murmured, letting out a bigger moan.

"What about... here?" he pressed one right in between the valley of your tits, and it was enough to elicit a nice, loud moan. "Fuck... you're really enjoying this, huh," he drawled in between chest kisses.

"I am, Toji, I am," you managed to breathe out. The more you moaned, the tighter his grip became on your waist.

"Yeah, you really are, princess. But, isn't that what we came here to do?" You nodded, and he chuckled. "Fuck, yeah, it is. Gonna make you feel so good... you're gonna forget 'yer own name."

Chest kisses weren't enough for the guy; he wanted--needed more of you. He needed to see you in the heat of the moment, to see how you reacted to getting the wind taken from your lungs, to see the way your ass would bounce against his powerful pelvis.

"Why don't we take this thing off, hm?" he was already in the middle of sliding your top off when he asked you that, so all you could do was let him. Once he did, his eyes lit up at the sight of your chest in that pretty pink bra. "Such pretty tits, held up by this pretty bra of yours," he rasped, hooking his finger underneath the pink fabric. "You wore this nice of lingerie just for me? Just for ol' Toji?"

You nodded vigorously, no longer shy or bashful. "Yeah, I wore it for you, Toji," you affirmed. "Wore it so you could tear it off of me."

His eyebrows shot up when you started voicing your fantasies, and he shook his head. "Yeah, you really are turning into a big ol' slut. None of that cute, shy shit anymore, huh?"

"I can't help it; your fingers just make me feel too good!"

"Oh, my fingers are making you feel good?" he repeated, a hint of mocking in his voice. "Well, in that case..." his big hands yanked the shorts underneath your mini skirt and his two fingers started caressing your hole. "Does that feel good, doll?"

You gasped and arched into his body, your perfect tits pressed against his clothed chest. "Fuck... feels so good~!"

"Oh, really? But I ain't even stick anything into ya? Are you really that touch-starved?" he asked mockingly, his green eyes leering at your blushing, moaning expression. One of his hands spanked your plump cheek, making you yelp. "Answer the question, doll."

"Y-Yes, fuck--I'm so fucking touch starved," you said through a moan, yelping when he spanked you again.

"Damn right, you are. Can't wait to see how tight you are--I can already imagine the way you're gonna suffocate my cock." The hand that was caressing your hole pushed past your panties and he stuck those two fingers into your hole, fingering you through your panties.

These ministrations of his fingers were making you lose your mind, and you let out the loudest moan yet. "F-Fuck! Oh, fuck- fuck, such thick fingers!!" You gasped, your voice reaching a new pitch you didn't think was possible.

"Yeah? You like my thick fingers inside o' that hole of 'yers? If I didn't know any better, I woulda assumed that you were a virgin, but how could I when you're such. A. Fucking. Slut?" he punctuated his question with spanks, his two fingers still fingering you. "C'mon, doll, lemme hear s'more of those moans. You know you wanna moan for Toji," he coaxed you, now stretching your cheek open with the hand that was spanking you.

And so, you moaned. You moaned as loud as you wanted to & possibly could, no longer worrying about how embarrassingly loud they'd be. Toji wasn't judging your moans; he savored them, worshiped them like they were holy scripture. "Fuck~! Fuck~! Oh, fuck, T-Toji--your fingers, they're so fucking good, keep curling them, please!! I'm gonna c-cum on your fingers if you k-k-keep this up!!" You were a babbling, incoherent mess while he worked his fingers into your tight hole. He pushed another finger in, essentially slutting you out on his hand alone. He licked his fingers again and started pumping them in & out harder, the feral grin on his face widening in size.

"Yeah, yeaah, that's what I'm fuckin' talking about, baby!" He exclaimed, fucking you vigorously on his fingers. "You're gonna cum, aren't ya? You're gonna cum from my fingers alone? You little whore, I can't wait to turn your brain to mush with my cock, just you wait!" If you weren't such a touch-starved whore for this man, the look in his eyes would've sent you running...

.... but you were a touch-starved whore. You were sucking his fingers in like you needed them to survive, like you'd die if you didn't get fingered by the older man. When his fingers hit that spongy spot inside of your tender hole, your eyes shot open and you felt an ache building up in your tummy. "Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck~!!" you squealed, "Fuck, Toji, k-keep fingerin' me right there, you're touching all of my sweet spots!!" You were no better or quieter than any of those other people in the next door rooms.

He realized that he'd hit your soft spot, and the grin on his face only intensified. "Oh, you want it there?" he dug his fingers in as deep as he possibly could, hitting your prostate yet again.

"Yes, fuck yes, Toji!!" You screamed at the top of your lungs.

"Oh, you little fucking slut, you're getting your brains fucked out just by my fingers, eh? I don't even need a cock to make you lose your mind, because you've already lost it!!" He continued savagely finger-fucking you, pushing you that much closer to the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you babbled, your eyes half-lidded as he jackhammered his hand into your hole, "I'm gonna- I'm gonna c-cum- haven't came in so-"

Just like that, you felt the cord snap in your belly, and you let the dam break. You didn't know what you said to him, only that you felt a gush of cum go through your penis & stain your panties. Your milky fluid soaked your panties entirely, some of it even landing on his pants and staining the black fabric. You let out a "Tojiii~!!" when you came, and you slumped over into the crook of his neck. He caught you before you could fall, and he couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips.

"Now, that's what I'm fucking talking about, doll," he said into your ear, patting your back and planting a kiss on your neck. Once you sat up and looked at him again, he captured your plump lips into a soft yet firm kiss, craning your head just right so he could kiss you perfectly.

"Toji... fuck, I didn't think I could cum that hard on a couple of fingers alone," you giggled, your mind still reeling from the intense pleasure.

"That's because you've been messing around with little boys who don't know what they're doing, doll. Can't even please a woman regardless if they've got a pussy or a dick," he chuckled, letting you catch your breath. "But I hope you know that that was just the appetizer, baby; there's plenty more where that came from."

"W-What?" before you knew it, you'd been flipped onto your back with Toji hovering over you.

"Hey there, pretty," he hummed, giving you a smile.

"Hey, Toji," you replied, the intensity of his gaze making you blush again.

"Blushin' already?" he moved one of his hands to your cheek and rubbed it as if you were a kitten. "Sweet girl," he cooed. Once he was done rubbing your cheek, he reached around your back and unclasped your bra. "Don't mind if I do," he gruffed, taking your bra off and letting the treasures that were your tits free. When the bra wasn't holding them up anymore, he could finally appreciate and marvel at them. "Fuck, doll... those are some sweet tits you've got there," he said, licking his lips and practically salivating at the sight. "May I?"

"May you what?" you asked, already embarrassed at how he was ogling you.

"May I suck your breasts, baby? They're such works of art that I wanna make sure I'm not tainting 'em," he murmured, already drooling over them.

"Toji, they're just my breasts," you giggled. "Nothing to be proud of..."

"Nothing to be proud of?! Baby, you've got the most amazing tits I've ever seen--and I've seen plenty. They're so perfectly round, so perky, 'n those nipples are just the perfect size to suck on."

You couldn't help but blush and giggle as he went on & on about your chest and how much he loved it. "If it gets you to stop... gushing about them, then you can suck-"

You didn't have to tell the man twice. He already had one of your nipples in his mouth and was holding the other in his hand, and you couldn't stop the beautiful moan that left your raspberry lips. "Fuck, Toji, you really know how to make a girl f-feel good," you whimpered, the intensity of his tit-sucking making your nipples extra sensitive.

"It's in my DNA," he said against your nipple. "I'm good at making pretty girls feel good." He shot you a cocky smirk before sucking on the other, practically losing his mind at the taste. If your nipples tasted this good, he wondered what it'd be like to eat your ass, maybe even suck your cock... if you let him, of course.

Once he'd had enough of your tits in his mouth, he retracted his lips & kissed yours. "Now those are some sweet tits," he chuckled, finally giving you some room to breathe.

"Toji... now they're all puffy and swollen," you pouted at the extra-sensitivity that came as a result of his voracious tit worship.

He shrugged at your little gripe. "Can you blame a guy?" he even flicked your nipple and watched you squirm in discomfort, shooting you a shit-eating grin. "Making you lose your mind's part of the deal, doll, and I can't do that if you're not a moaning mess. Now, spread those legs for me, baby girl, because I'm gonna show you how it feels to get devoured by a guy who knows what he's doin'."

"What are you..." you trailed off when he pulled your skirt down entirely and exposed your drenched panties. He could make out the outline of your soft penis, and he hooked his fingers under the fabric of your panties & slid them down your smooth thighs. Once he was finally able to see all of you, the little smile that was on his face grew into a wide grin.

"Fuck, doll... you're just..." he sat up to get a good look at your naked form, and you shyly covered your crotch in embarrassment. "Nah, don't hide this gorgeous sight from me, doll, lemme see you." He pried your hands off with one of his and once he was able to see you fully, he took in your naked form with his eyes. "You're a work of fucking art, baby."

"You're just sayin' shit, Toji," you mumbled, a little embarrassed by his praising.

"I'm saying shit from the heart, doll," he corrected you, making you crack a little smile. "I just... wow, you're just amazing." He shook his head in disbelief at how such a perfect specimen could be wandering earth without his knowledge. "I definitely found an angel," he jested, making you crack another smile.

"Can you just get on with what you're doing?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Slowly but surely, he planted kisses on your belly & made his way down to where the goodies were. "Spread those legs f'me, doll. I need to see every inch of you."

You parted your legs gingerly, letting him see what he wanted to see. He lowered his head to where your hole was & grabbed your legs, spreading them further for his liking. He then pushed them back up gently, giving him a full view of your puckered anus. "Look at that shit... so delicious, so perfect, so sweet-lookin'," he muttered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "You're just perfect in every single way... fucking fuck," he chuckled, shaking his head once again.

You stayed silent, far too vulnerable or nervous to give him one of your usually sassy quips. "Cat got 'yer tongue, doll?"

"You've got my tongue," you muttered, making him chuckle again.

"I'm gonna feast on this perfect hole of 'yers, baby, and then I'm gonna impale you on this dick & make you see stars," he promised, sitting up again. "Lemme just... take this damn sweater off," he grumbled, sliding the white cotton over his head.

It was your turn to marvel at him now. You knew that he was a big guy with some big muscles, but now that you were seeing the real deal for yourself, you couldn't help the squeak of nervousness that left your lips. He truly was an adonis in every sense of the word: his meaty pecs that were thicker than some peoples' boobs, a shredded 8-pack that could quite literally grind cheese on it, that thin, tapered waist that expanded to a set of broad shoulders, not to mention the biceps that could crush your head. "Oh, wow," you said involuntarily, the intrusive thoughts escaping your mind.

"Like what you see, doll?" he asked cockily, flexing one of his huge biceps for you.

"Yeah... I do like, me likey," you said, still entranced by his frame.

"I told you I wasn't one of those little boys you've been hanging around, doll--I know what I'm doin'." He put his bicep down and then dipped his head back to your puckered hole, and you couldn't help but tense up a little. You tried to close your thighs out of embarrassment, but he easily pried them open with his two big hands. "Enough hidin' baby, enough of that coy shit. I already made you cum on my fingers, right? Now, I'm gonna make you cum on my tongue."

Before you could say anything, he latched his mouth to your hole, the sensation immediately making you squeak. "Fuck~!" You gasped, the wet muscle licking a stripe up your anus.

"It's time to enjoy my meal," he gruffed before diving in fully, his face disappearing into your anal cavity.

Toji wasn't lying--he really wasn't, because when he said he'd make you lose your mind, you were doing just that. "Fuck... oh, fuck, T-Toji~" you sighed, relaxing into his ministrations. You've had your ass eaten before, but the skill and tenacity with which he ate you out was 10 times more pleasurable than those other times.

The more he licked and flicked, the more moans you moaned. You were writhing about, your hands gripping both the sheets and his hair in delicious agony. It was like you were a virgin, touched for the very first time by this experienced, older man. "Fuck~!" You squealed, not knowing what else to do but enjoy it. Every time your gaze would wander back to Toji, the sight of his biceps curled and his broad shoulders supporting your legs made your stomach flutter. He was just so incredibly attractive in every way, and his oral skills were just that: incredibly attractive.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna c-cum soon, fuck--I've never been pushed to the edge so quickly!" You admitted between breathy moans, still grinding your ass against his face.

"Yeah? You're gonna cum already?" he asked in between licks and slurps, "hah, you're already such a whore for ol' Toji, and he hasn't even fucked you with his cock." He gave your thigh a firm slap before diving back in again. You could see the enjoyment in his verdant eyes, and it only made you lose your mind that much quicker.

Soon enough, the words and quips escaping your mouth lessened in favor of the moans & whimpers that took their rightful places. He was loving every second of this--both your heavenly moans and taste on his tongue were just perfect. He could feel himself losing it, his tongue devouring you like a feral animal that needed taming.

"Fuck... so fucking delicious, baby... you've been keeping this taste from me for how long?" he asked in between sucks. "I'm never lettin' go of ya now, not when you taste so perfect."

You were mindlessly moaning and nodding your head to everything he said, no longer able to resist the sweet temptation of losing yourself in his mouth. "Yeah~ yeah, Toji, f-fuck yeah~!" the man could've asked to marry you right then and there and you wouldn't have registered it, that was how insane he drove you.

If he could use his tongue on you so expertly, how would you fare taking his cock?

He chuckled into your sweet, plush ass, now stroking your cock gently. "Jus' keep those pretty moans comin', baby, and I'll give you everything you want."

By then, you didn't know how long it had been since he'd started eating your ass. It could've been 10 minutes, an hour or ten hours--numbers were no longer a thing in your mind. You knew he had an experience with pleasuring women, but you didn't know he'd be such an eater! It was like the more he ate, the more he craved. His appetite simply couldn't be quenched. Toji, himself, also took note of how he was losing himself in you, but he just couldn't stop. You were too sweet for your own good, and someone would have to enjoy it. He noticed how your thighs were trembling like an earthquake from the intensity of it all, and he gave you an apologetic stare & retracted his lips temporarily (still fingering you).

"'m sorry, doll, but you're just too sweet... I've gotta have more of this," he panted before diving in again.

All you could give in response was a pathetic whine and a moan.

"Losin' your mind so quickly?" he jested in between swipes of your hole. "Like a cute lil' virgin," he hummed before diving in again, burying his face in your engorged hole. "Fuck.. need more... gotta have some more of you... you don't mind, do you?" Before you could even make a sound, he grabbed your hips and held them up with his strong hands, dipping his tongue even deeper if that was even humanly possible.

You let out a loud, high-pitched moan when he did this. How could it be that his tongue was already reaching your sweet spot?! "F-F-Fuck, Toji, please!!" You gasped, writhing about when he mounted your hips in the air.

"Please what, doll?" he taunted you in between sucks.

"P-Please, just make me cum already--I c-can't take this pleasure anymore!!"

"The little princess wants to cum, eh?" he chuckled lowly, making your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. "Alright, alright... I guess I'll stop torturin' ya." He shifted the weight of your body to one of his hands & his strong arm, and he moved the other hand to start stroking your cock.

When his hand made contact around your cock, that was when all hell broke loose inside of your body. "Tojiii~!!" You squealed, bucking your hips while being held in mid-air, "Toji, Toji, Toji, T-Toji- I can't- I'm fucking c-cum-"

It was laughably cute how you desperately, needly jerked your hips into his hand, practically doing all the work for him. Your cum shot out in spurts, the milky-white substance landing on your tits, the perfect decoration for a pretty girl like you.

"That's it, there you go--thereee you go, pretty," he encouraged you, removing his mouth from your abused anus. "Cumming so much for me... fuck, you're just precious, baby. So fuckin' precious." He cooed and coaxed you with his words, guiding you through your second orgasm & its aftershocks.

When you finally came to and opened your eyes to look at him, his face was a few inches from yours, and he was carefully watching your reactions. "There you are, doll," he crooned, cupping your cheek gently. "Now, how was that for being eaten?" he asked with a cocky chuckle. One of his hands moved closer to your lips, and he stuck his thumb inside just to see what would happen. "Look at you," he rasped. "Even when you're reelin' from an orgasm, you're still so eager to please." He stuck his thumb further into your mouth just for the fun of it before retracting.

"Never been eaten like that before," you admitted with flushed cheeks.

"That's because you've never been with a real man before," he chuckled, patting your cheek before sitting up again. "Speaking of real men, I believe you've got a little present waitin' for ya." His hands moved to the hem of his pants, and he undid the buckle of his belt. "You're in for a real doozy if you came that hard on my fingers," he warned you, watching as your brows furrowed in confusion and fear.

"What're you..." you quickly realized just what he meant when he unbuckled his pants and shimmied out of them. The tent in his boxers was...

Massive.

You wondered what kind of monster he was hiding in there. Sure, you weren't a virgin--but you might as well have been one to Toji. He grabbed the waistband of his boxers and looked at you intently, watching your every reaction: "you ready, doll?"

Before you could answer that, he pulled his boxers down and let the Goliath of his cock spring free. And what you saw only confirmed your suspicions.

"Oh my god," was all you said.

His cock was massive, just like the rest of him. It was a good 9-inches, girthy, and was leaking precum like crazy onto the sheets. "Sorry 'bout that," he said in mock apology when his precum made a mess on the sheets. His cock had an angry red tip and one big vein up the side, and the sheer thickness of it was a doozy.

"How the fuck is that supposed to fit inside of me?" you asked out of panic. You were eager to have sex with the man, sure, but you weren't eager to be sent to the hospital.

"With plenty of lube and preparation, of course." He reached over to the nightstand and saw what kind of stuff they had in there. Luckily for your poor little hole, they had different bottles of lubricant as well as condoms for all shapes & sizes (including Magnum XXL). He took out the biggest size option and ripped open the plastic. He rolled it onto his cock before looking at you, and the fear in your eyes made him soften up for a moment. "What's the matter, doll? Are you scared of me or somethin'?"

"I'm not scared of you; I'm scared of your cock," you clarified, still eyeing the huge meat that he was packing.

He let out a chuckle before slicking some lube onto his cock. "Doll, don't worry; I've done this plenty of times before. My ex-wife was actually a virgin when we first got together, and we had a son together."

"I guess you're right..."

He set the jokes aside and cupped your chin again. "What I'm saying is that you don't gotta worry about anything, doll. I'm good at making women feel good, and that includes women like you. We'll ease into it as slowly as you want and you can take as much time as you need. All I want is for the two of us to enjoy ourselves." He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, quelling any further worries. "I really, really like you, (Y/N). I'd never do anything to hurt you. You trust me, right?"

You nodded shakily once you parted lips.

"Good, because that's all I want," he added with a comforting smile. "I want this to lead somewhere, y'know? And what good would it do me to hurt you?" He trailed kisses down your neck and gave your breast a reaffirming squeeze. "Just you wait, baby. Once the initial stretch is out of the way, you're gonna feel so fuckin' amazing."

You smiled softly at Toji, still nervous but confident that you were gonna have a great time with him. "I trust you, Toji. I trust your abilities."

"That's a good girl," he rumbled in response. He coated his fingers in lubricant and stuck them inside of you, the cold feeling making you yelp and squirm. "Sorry 'bout that, doll, I just wanted to make sure you were all slippery and ready f'me." After wiping the excess on his thigh, he grabbed ahold of his lubed up cock & started moving it towards your entrance. "Spread those legs, baby... yeah, that's it. You follow orders so well," he praised, grabbing your thigh and pinning it back with his hand. "Okay, here it goes... just hold onto me, pretty girl, hold onto my back."

You were nervous, oh-so nervous about what was to come. You knew it was gonna hurt, you knew it'd be uncomfortable at first, but yet you were still determined to take it because you knew you could. After all, surely it wouldn't hurt that bad, right?

Wrong.

When you felt the head of his cock pierce your hole, your eyes immediately shot open and you felt a pain in your butt. "Ah~!" your initial moan of pain was quite high-pitched, and he winced at the thought of the initial stretch. Slowly but surely, Toji slid more & more of his cock into your ass, gritting his teeth the entire time. You, meanwhile, were whimpering in pain, whining from how bad it hurt. "Toji, Toji, p-please--I can't take it-"

"C'mon, baby, you've got this. Just breathe 'n hold onto me, okay? You're doing so well, sooo fuckin' well," he crooned into your ear, kissing away the tears of pain that flowed down your cheeks.

"Please, Toji, it hurts!"

"I know it hurts, I know--but you're almost there, see? We're past the halfway point already. C'mon, you're a big girl, you can handle it. Just... just lemme slide... oh, fuck-" the feeling of your tight ass around his cock was just heavenly. It was unlike anything he's ever felt before. Any mouth that sucked him, any pussy that took him couldn't even compare to this overflow of sensation that he was feeling. It was like angels were caressing him, like the softest pillow in existence. "Oh, fucking fuck," he panted, desperately resisting the urge to just shove it all in there and take your pleasure for himself. "Just... just a little bit more... hah- are you tryin' to choke me or somethin'?"

"No, I swear! It's just, it hurts so good, god you're so fucking big, Toji!!" And there it was: that spongy spot that drove the two of you wild. Once the tip of his cock pierced it, all those whines and pained cries were replaced by sheer, unabashed pleasure. The combination of the fading pain & the incoming waves of pleasure and heaven were enough to make you scream out his name: "Tojiii, fuuuck!!"

"Jesus christ... oh my god," he rasped, throwing his head back at the delicious constriction. "You feel so, so, so amazing." He moved his head back to look at you, and his eyes widened by how deliciously erotic the scene was. You, underneath him, your face the unbridled image of pleasure, and that yummy belly bulge that showed where his cock was hitting you. "Fuck, I'm hitting you that deep? Hahh, if there was any chance of me letting you go, that chance was just wiped away! Just lemme... fuck," he gasped when he retracted his cock slowly but surely, dragging every inch against your anal walls.

When he plunged his cock back inside of you, you could see stars painted on the ceiling above you. "I... can't... it feels too good... m-making me lose my mind-" you said in between gasps.

"Too good? Too good?" he was slowly starting to pick up steam, rocking his hips back and forth. "Just wait 'til you get adjusted to me, because I'm gonna make you see the whole fucking galaxy."

As Toji gradually began to pick up speed, your nails dug into his muscular back, raking it down, making his back all but red. "Fuck~ fuck~ fuck~ fuck~" you whimpered in between thrusts, your eyes going half-lidded and your jaw going slack.

"Yeahhhh, there you go, doll," he panted, "just keep tellin' me how amazing you're feeling, and I'll make you feel even better."

The more he thrusted into you, the dirtier your moans became. You were now reduced to nothing but a moany, whiny puddle with your hands going to his back and holding on for dear life. Toji was also in a similar state to you, thrusting into you like a madman who needed you to survive.

"Fuck... shit, doll, you're so fuckin' warm n' heavenly--are you trying to make me addicted to you? Because it's workin, baby girl," he rasped, dipping his head to where yours laid and whispering dirty nothings into your ear.

After you let out a few whiny, incoherent moans, you were able to babble: "W-Want you, Toji--want you to keep fucking me like this!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you like this? Or, maybe," he grabbed your legs, threw them over his shoulders & folded you like a pretzel, "like this?" This change in position allowed the tip of his meaty cock to pierce your spongy spot, making you moan like an idiot with each ministration. Each stroke was designed to ruin you, each word was spoken to make your knees like jelly, and each look he casted you was filled with his love.

"C'mon, baby, look at me, talk to me," he crooned, trying to get your attention again. He gently grabbed your cheeks and turned your head to face him, his jade eyes seeking the affirmations within yours. "Look at me... I wanna see those pretty eyes of 'yers."

When you refused to look at him out of sheer embarrassment from the moans & whimpers you let out, he grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him. "Look at me, angel, look at me while I fuck you like this."

"I'm l-looking- I'm looking!!"

"Good... god, angel do you know how fucking gorgeous you look right now? All vulnerable and splayed out for ol' Toji here? God, it's been ages since I've had pussy like this--I didn't even know it could feel so fucking good!" he exclaimed, a light snarl making its way out of his mouth.

"Never had dick like yours, d-daddy!" you squealed, somehow still able to talk, even after the man just started making your insides mush.

'Daddy?' he asked himself. Did you really just call him daddy?

"W-What was that?" he asked, his eyes blown wide from the term.

"I said... fuck~ I've never had dick like yours, daddy!!" you said with more vigor. "Never had such a long, g-girthy dick like yours--it's so fucking incredible, I'm drooling n' making such a big fucking mess on this bed!!"

He felt something snap inside of him when you called him daddy for the second time. It was like the tightrope that he was walking on snapped finally, and all the pent-up frustration and lust inside of him was going haywire.

"Daddy? Daddy?" he repeated, this time in a mocking tone of voice. "Oh, ohhh, so I'm your daddy now, huh?" the sudden change of demeanor made your belly churn in equal parts fear & excitement. You could see the beast inside of him slowly coming out, his green eyes becoming a jaded, darker color. "Answer me, you slut: am I your daddy? Yes or no!" he slapped the inside of your thigh harshly, making you yelp in pain.

"Yeah, y-you're m'daddy-"

"That's more like it, that's what I wanna hear. I bet you have a nice, big kink for letting older men like me have their way with you, fucking your brains out n' stuffing you like a creampie--or am I the only one who's churned you like butter?" with each thrust, each question posed, he let out another snarl, almost like a feral wolf in heat.

"Oh, I am sooo gonna destroy you now, you little slut. I mean, just look at the way you're lookin' at me right now, I bet you wore that slutty lil' lingerie set of yours earlier so you could get the ever-loving shit fucked out of you, huh? Huh?" he slapped your thigh again & again, his large red hand leaving a print on the fat. "Answer me when I ask you questions!!"

"Y-Yes!" you admitted finally, "I wore that lingerie set so I could get the shit... fucked out of me!! God, I've been waiting for this day for ages, the day when I'd finally find someone who could ruin me!!"

He let out a dark laugh, stuffing two fingers down your throat & making you gag. "You fucking whore, you're a fucking whore, aren't ya? A whore for big dicks, eh? I bet I've already turned you into my whore, haven't I, angel?"

You nodded while gagging on his fingers, the tears of pleasure and pain falling down your cheeks. Here you were, getting completely slutted out, drilled into this mattress by a guy who was 10 years your senior, and you were in heaven. You had no idea that meeting up with someone you met online could lead to the most mind-numbing, toe-curling sex imaginable, but you were so fucking glad to have taken the leap.

"Enough talking from you, whore," he sneered, adding a third finger to your mouth & making you drool. "I'm gonna show you how good it feels to be turned into a fleshlight."

By the time the words registered inside of your head, you were already long gone. The combination of his fingers down your throat, the dirty degradation & praise he was spewing into your ear, and the feeling of his cock piercing your spongy spot relentlessly made your mind break, and you were only one round in. With Toji's endless, stallion-like stamina, you were no doubt gonna be fucked in all sorts of positions & ways.

A week ago, you wouldn't have recognized the girl who you'd been turned into. You probably would've been embarrassed of yourself at that. But any girl or guy would've been jealous of you if they saw how good the pipe was.

"Fuck~! Fuck~! Fuck~!" was all that you were able to say as the man demolished you (with your approval, of course). You'd never cum so fast in your life, but you could feel that familiar bubble building up in you--only it was a good 10 times more intense than the last time you had sex with a guy. Maybe it was the deep dish dick that he gave you, or maybe it was the insane chemistry that you and him had, but it was coming to you like a freight train.

He could feel your tight little anus clenching down on his cock repeatedly, and he knew that you were gonna cum quickly. "Awww, is my lil' angel gonna cum?" he asked mockingly, to which you nodded. "I shouldn't even let ya cum after seeing how much of a whore you are, but you've been sooo good to my dick that I just have to reward you."

He leaned down to kiss the side of your face & whispered: "go ahead, princess, cum for me. Cum on daddy's dick, n' I'll stuff ya full of his seed." He even rubbed your cock just so you could cum sooner.

And just like that, you came all over yourself & his hand. It was a pretty sight to see, the milky white fluid shooting out of your tip like an uncontrollable, unstable geyser, and you couldn't stop the "Toji~!"s and "daddy~!"s from leaving your lips--not that either of you wanted that to stop.

Toji just chuckled & watched you ride out your orgasm on his dick. "Fuck... just look at you, baby, you're a work of art. If we weren't strangers, I woulda snapped a pic o' this view and made it my lockscreen, but we aren't there yet?"

As you came down from your high, you looked at him hazily in confusion. "Wha...? Whaddya mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm keeping ya around, pet. What, you thought that this was some one-time, one-night stand?" he scoffed, shaking his head.

"I'm not letting go of your sweet ass until my hands can't physically do so anymore."

Toji promptly fucked you in every single position imaginable, orgasm after orgasm spewing from the tip of your overstimulated penis. Missionary, doggy, cowgirl, spooning, reverse cowgirl, the spread-eagle--the mating press was your personal favorite because you got to feel every ounce of that man on top of you.

By the time you were able to register what was happening, you'd already came... however many times you came, and you were currently getting pistoned into in the full nelson. He had your ankles next to your head, your soft, squishy body propped up against his shredded & muscular frame, and his huge cock lodged deep inside of you.

"Fuck... fuck... fuck," he panted, still thrusting after all this time. "You can take another load, right, doll? Well, it don't matter anyway; you're taking my seed until my balls empty out."

"Toji... p-please," you whimpered, so overstimulated that you could barely keep conscious. "Had enough..."

"Oh, you can take another. You're a big girl, right?" he patted your thigh mockingly and went back to holding your ankle up, making sure that you were at his mercy. "So overstuffed you might just burst, hm?" he cooed, kissing next to your ear. "I just love making pretty girls like you into total sluts."

You went back to lolling your head to the side, your jaw open as the moans escaped your lips.

"Fuck... think 'm gonna-" before he could finish that sentence, he dumped yet another thick & heavy load into your hole. You let out a weak whimper and curled your toes, the feeling stimulating you yet again. Your eye trailed over to him when you realized that he wasn't thrusting anymore, and you could see that he was panting heavily.

"Toji...?"

"I think I've dumped every ounce of seed into ya, doll," he chuckled breathlessly, throwing his head back in victory. "N' you managed to do it without tapping out, too. I'm proud of ya for taking all of this--most girls can't even manage a fourth round before tapping out."

You didn't say anything, instead falling back onto his body weakly. "So tired," you mumbled against his meaty pec.

"I know you are," he crooned, running a hand through your hair and smiling at your fucked-out form. "You really took it all like a champ, angel. I'm truly proud of you."

Taking all of his pipe & his seed should've earn you a trophy.

"Thankyou," you slurred, still resting your head on his chest. "Think I'm gonna... rest here for a little while."

"Me, too, doll," he sighed, stretching his arm out to wrap around your shoulders. He leaned in, pressing a few kisses to your sweaty forehead, looking at you with every ounce of love he had in his body. "You know I didn't mean any of that shit about you being a slut, right?"

"Mm..."

"That's how I get when I'm caught up in the moment," he chuckled, now nuzzling his lips there. "You're just the most beautiful girl in the world," he remarked, still gazing at you fondly. "It's a wonder you're still available. Then again, not many can handle a girl like you, can they?"

You were slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms, the love hotel's bed surprisingly comfy for your weak form. "Hey... you're not gonna... run off in the morning, right? Like all the rest?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" he scoffed, the notion of him being a guy like that ridiculous to him. "I'm not an asshole, doll. I've got the most beautiful girl in the world resting in my arms. Ain't no way I'm gonna make the mistake of letting you go so quickly, no ma'am. When I meant I wasn't gonna leave you alone, I meant it."

By then, he realized that you had fallen asleep, and he gave you a soft smile. "So fuckin' pretty when you're relaxed, doll..." he whispered, pressing more soft kisses to your forehead. He moved his arm from your shoulder to your waist and was now cradling your petite frame to his burly one.

"You're not like the others on that website, are you?" he asked both you and himself. "You're an angel amongst men... you don't belong there. You deserve the world, n' I hope you'll let me give it to you. Hell, I hope I can even give you what you deserve." He, too, felt a little weary, but he stayed awake just to watch your sleeping form.

"You deserve heaven, angel."

I'M PART OF THE SOFT!TOJI AGENDA!!! I wanted to give the reader a comforting ending, just in case someone was stuck in a bad situation w/ an asshole 🥹 I also kinda went overboard on the smut but I made the ending as fluffy as possible! I'm not proofreading this btw.

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 7/2/2024

[fuwushiguro]

They Tell Me That It's Good For Me

Zeke Yeager x f!reader Genre: Smut Notes: It’s hip to be square… Warnings: 18+, dubcon, cheating, violence, murder, mental health issues, vaginal sex. Lmk if I missed any. Words: 4k

Zeke resented his brother, Eren. The brunette being ten years his junior made him wonder who he thinks he is to be telling him what to do. He’s a doctor, and yet Eren seems to think it’s a good idea that he go to therapy? Family therapy, at that. It’s just the two of them sitting in the office on account of their parents being dead. The therapist immediately senses hostility in Zeke. A reluctance to be a part of this ridiculous practice. Eren disagrees, though. His temper around their penthouse recently has been less than pleasurable.

“What does a regular day in the life of Zeke Yeager look like?” the therapist asks. Zeke’s eyes roll so violently, they flutter manically. He adjusts his seating position, pulling up his trousers slightly as he crosses one leg over the other and sinks back into the armchair. He’s a picture of perfect coolness as he rakes his fingers through his hair and thinks about his answer.

A day in the life of Zeke Yeager.

He lives in one of the most expensive properties in the city. The name Zeke Yeager is one of renown and respect. An excellent doctor who studied under his father, Grisha, a title and career he achieved and solidified all before turning twenty-nine. Self-care is very important to Zeke. He likes women, you see, and being in his line of work can be incredibly stressful and taxing on your appearance. He knows every trick and technique to prolong his youth and prevent wrinkles for as long as possible. His morning regime can be gruesome, as if the poor man isn’t tired enough. But it’s all worth it to look how he does.

Not many people see his body under his work uniform, but it’s often a surprise to many when they realise how perfectly sculpted and chiselled he is. Taking care of himself can’t just stop at using specific creams and scrubs on his soft skin to prolong his youth. A balanced diet and exercise play a crucial role in it all, too. The exercise is probably the most irritating part of his morning routine to Eren. For some reason his elder brother insists on playing porno tapes on the TV at full volume while he works out. The sounds of women’s moans incentivise him, apparently. It doesn’t stop it from being irritating, though.

Zeke Yeager is successful in every way that an individual can be. He’s wealthy, he has a good job, good looks that attract enough women to placate his salacious desires. And even a brother who, whilst they annoy each other to the brink of self-detonation, they care for each other.

But it’s not enough for Zeke Yeager. He’s a shell of a man. No matter how much money he has, there’s always someone with more money. Despite him being magnificent at his job, there will always be someone somewhat superior to him. Regardless of which woman he takes to bed, there’s always a man with a sexier woman and a hotter cunt than what he’s going to devour and enjoy.

Zeke Yeager exists, but only barely.

“This was a stupid idea, Eren. I don’t need a shrink, I myself am a doctor, you know.” he talks to his brother in the chair beside his own. Zeke doesn’t get a response, but he notices the therapist begin to scribble down notes in their little book.

“I’d rather you not talk to Eren, Zeke. Focus on me. I’d like you to tell me why you’re here. What has been going on in the last few months?” the therapist speaks. Zeke runs his tongue along his top row of teeth as he contemplates the question. He’d have to ask Eren why they’re here, but now it turns out they aren’t even allowed to speak with each other.

“My life isn’t as interesting as you might think. I work. I go for the occasional drink with colleagues or my brother. I go home and enjoy video tapes and then return them when I’m finished with them.” he explains, prompting the therapist to write down more notes.

“Video tapes. I must say, from what I’ve seen and heard you watch quite a substantial amount of pornography films. Do you think you have a porn addiction?”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s what I said.”

The therapist takes her time writing his response. It’s quite difficult to make Zeke feel uneasy, but the radio silence for five minutes straight filled with only the sound of a ballpoint scratching on paper fills him with unease. He feels like he’s on trial. Part of him wants to clear his throat, but he doesn’t wish to give the therapist the satisfaction of thinking she’s rattled him. Or worse, she’s won.

“I’d like to know about your sexual history. At what age did you lose your virginity and how frequently do you engage in sexual intercourse?” she asks him. This makes Zeke scoff. It’s not something he cares to divulge with a stranger. He sees Eren scowling at him and shakes his head unimpressed.

“I was seventeen. And I couldn’t say how often, truthfully. I like women, I’d say I have sex more than most.”

“Do you ever pay for it?”

“Is that relevant? I don’t see how that matters.” Zeke answers her question defensively, earning another series of notes appearing on the paper in front of her. “Sometimes I do, yes.” he adds, and she writes it down.

“Outside of sex, what else do you do for fun?”

“I can’t think, right now. I’ve told you a few things, I think we should move on.” he suggests. She smiles, crossing one leg over the other and nodding in agreement. He isn’t sure about therapy; he never has been. The idea of someone getting inside of his mind and trying to unearth secrets and fantasies that he may not even know about himself is terrifying.

“Do you get along with Eren’s fiancé?” she asks. Now Zeke does clear his throat. He unfolds his legs and leans forward in his seat pressing his fingertips against one another as he thinks of how he should answer.

“I don’t think we should discuss this.”

“You have a fiancé, don’t you?” she pushes. Zeke grimaces and nods. This must be why Eren brought him here. He looks over his shoulder in Eren’s direction, and he can barely look at him. He’s been a terrible older brother. So selfish and insufferable. But Zeke has never claimed to be selfless. What Zeke wants, Zeke gets.

“I stole Eren’s fiancé, yes, if we must talk about it then sure. It wasn’t a particularly nice thing to do, but I—” she stops him from saying another word by raising her hand as she writes again. He waits patiently for her to finish so that she can ask another question or wait for him to continue.

“Do you recognise this woman?” she asks as she places a polaroid on the coffee table in front of them. Zeke leans forwards to pick the image up and pushes his glasses further up his nose so he can get a proper look. He shakes his head, placing it back down and pushing it towards her.

“What about this woman? Or this woman? Maybe this one?” she fires off as she places another three images down on the table. He looks at them all intently, once again shaking his head as he pushes them back at her.

“I don’t recognise any of them. What about you, Eren?” he asks his brother, he’s still scowling at them. He thought they were on better terms since he stole you away from him. Apparently not. The therapist clicks her fingers and reminds him not to talk to Eren.

“That’s a shame. I had hoped you could help me, they’re all deceased, you see. Quite grisly murders, actually.” she tells him, not even looking at him as she focuses on her note taking. It scares Zeke to hear. Four women murdered. It’s a scary world to live in. It’s enough to encourage him to light up a cigarette and get comfier in his seat as he digests the information.

“That’s horrible. All the same killer, you think? Or—”

“What do you like to do for fun, Zeke?” the therapist asks him again. His eyes scrunch as he wonders if he heard her right. Haven’t they been over this already? Why does she keep asking?

“I… I enjoy eating. There is a restaurant in the city that is difficult to get on the guest list for, but they usually make an exception for my colleagues and I. That could be considered fun.” he tells her. She doesn’t bother writing it down, which makes him feel like he’s said something boring. Or something wrong entirely.

“I assume you and your fiancé have a considerable amount of sex? How much, would you say?” she queries. Zeke scratches his beard as he thinks about it. He pushes his glasses a little way up his nose, again, before answering.

“Not as much recently. Three times a week, possibly? Work is exhausting. I’d never be off her if I had the choice.” he confesses. That is something she deems necessary to write down. She even pouts as she does, like she’s really concentrating on getting every single word perfect.

“Do you cheat on her? You sometimes pay for prostitutes, have you done that since you became engaged?” she asks him. He looks down, awkwardly, and concentrates on the sounds of his bones cracking as he crushes his knuckles. He sighs, though, preparing to answer yet again.

“Unfortunately I do. I’m not proud of it, it doesn’t mean I love her any less.” he explains, trying his very best to justify himself and his abhorrent behaviour. She’s writing yet again. He notices the way her eyes harshen when she’s writing something particularly juicy, otherwise her brows remain relaxed and her eyes almost appear lifeless.

“What do you do for fun, Zeke?”

“Why do you—? Music, I like listening to music at home. Dancing and a few drinks with the right music on is fun, for me.”

“Those four women were prostitutes.” she announces casually, scribbling some more and not making any form of eye contact as she speaks. Zeke’s jaw hangs low as he comes to realise what might be happening here.

“I feel like you’re accusing me of something.” he tells her. She doesn’t confirm nor deny. She simply keeps her eyes fixated on him as he begins to awkwardly laugh under her intimidating glare.

“Could you tell me about the first time you had sexual intercourse with your fiancé?”

Oh boy, could he. But should he? Would you approve of him diving into the intimate intricacies of your relationship and what you get up to between the sheets? It’ll be fine, he thinks, patient doctor confidentiality is a requirement. He knows that just as well as she does.

Eren had brought you home for the first time to introduce you to his brother. Zeke couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. From head to toe you were a total knockout. How a shit bag like Eren bagged a girl like you, he’ll never know. You spent the evening getting to know more about each other. About their family and their relationship with one another. It was sweet, you thought.

Zeke couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Eren was the same, you were the only one who realised how intensely the brothers were staring at you. But of course, you didn’t comment on it. Instead, the three of you drank more and more. You drank the least, but it was still enough to feel tipsy.

Eren drank the most and he blacked out completely. Zeke had to carry him from the dining room chair to his bedroom. He landed on the soft mattress and bounced a little when Zeke let him fall from his arms.

“I think you like me, Zeke.” you said. He smirked immediately and you noticed his face go a little red. You stepped a little closer towards him, unable to keep away from his magnetic charm. “Am I… right? To think that.” you questioned. He shook his head, you were perfectly correct.

“I like the idea of bending you over and seeing what you look like stuffed full of me. If that means I like you, sure, I like you. But you’re with my little brother. I’m wondering why you’d ask a question like that when you’re engaged to him. Do you like me, too?”

You stood closer to him, wanting that to answer his question. It does. His hands moved around your neck and then one held the back of your head as he landed his lips on yours. It became heated quite quickly. Both of your hearts racing with adrenaline as you knew Eren could have woken up at any moment. He picked you up and made you wrap your legs around his waist so that he could carry you to his own bedroom.

You were set down and he pushed your body against his floor to ceiling mirror in his room. He dropped to the balls of his feet and then onto his knees, pulling your panties from underneath your skirt and tossing them over his shoulder. He nuzzled his face between your thighs and began to lick at your delicate, petalled flesh. Your little pearl was at his mercy, your hips bucking and stuttering with each suckle and slurp. He looked up at you, face and beard sparkling with pussy juice.

“Turn around, look at yourself.” he demanded. You did, and watched your own body as he began to undress you. He whispered under his breath. Mostly about how beautiful you were. He loved the way your face contorted when he spanked your ass. So, he did it again, and again, and again. “You look gorgeous when you hurt.”

That’s when he decided to soak his cock with your juices. He slid it up and down between your folds to make sure he was wet enough for you to take. He smoothed your hair back so you could both look at your face when he began to tear you apart with his thick cock.

“That’s it. Good girl, how’s the stretch feeling?”

“It— It hurts so good.” you moaned for him. It made him smile cockily. Of course it does. It was just what he wanted to hear.

He loved the way your jaw hung low and eyes were almost fully white as he ploughed into your little cunt. He adored that you didn’t care how fucking loud you were moaning on him, it didn’t bother you that Eren was in the next room. It was euphoric when you began to tighten on him like the little whore you are. You angled your body slightly so that you could face him. Kiss him. He was hitting your sweet spot so perfectly, you scratched down his defined back and earned a cat-like hiss from your soon to be brother in law.

“Fucking bitch, are you gonna cum?” he asked. You nodded like a fool. So damn close. He watched your pretty O face as you hit your peak. It was an inspired idea that he had decided to fuck you in front of the mirror. He doesn’t think he would have been able to examine your reactions and responses as perfectly as he did if he was facing you directly.

He didn’t let you relax as you came down from your high, though. He held your head in place and insisted you look at him as he fills your cunt up with himself. He’s giving you everything he has, the least you can do is admire him as he does so.

“You came in her?” the therapist asks, Zeke nods a little too proudly in front of his sibling. “Interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Did you cum in these four women that you fucked?” she asks him as she spreads the photographs out on the coffee table for a second time. He leans forward and looks at them again. He only shrugs his shoulders, though.

“Maybe. It’s likely. I don’t usually like to pull out or wear protection.” he tells her. She writes that down. Zeke isn’t afraid anymore, he’s starting to get agitated. “How much longer is this session?”

“What do you do for fun, Zeke?”

“Are you aware of how many times you’ve asked me this question?” he answers her question with his own. He pushes his hair back again as he slinks back into his seat. She isn’t done with him, though, he can tell that much by her demeanour.

“That’s not how things ended with your fiancé though, is it? How did it end?”

“Eren here caught us, unsurprisingly.”

“That isn’t what I was referring to. He wouldn’t have caught you if your fiancé wasn’t screaming.”

“Screaming?”

“Screaming, Zeke. Don’t you remember?” he shakes his head at her question. He remembers nothing of the sort. She didn’t scream. He would remember that. Wouldn’t he? He’d remember if she was screaming. “I think you’re confused. Are you confused, Zeke?”

“Very. I wouldn’t make her scream, only in a good way. Why would she be screaming?” he questions. She flips through her notebook and leans her body forward so that Zeke knows she’s reading directly to him.

“She claims the sex was indeed consensual. She instigated it and she enjoyed it until the screaming started. Can’t you remember? Can’t you try and remember why she was screaming?” she talks at him, he shakes his head again. His mind is blank. Is he going insane? “You’ve been referring to her as your fiancé. She’s nothing of the sort. You don’t have sex three times a week, you had sex that one time.”

“No,”

“Yes, Zeke,” she insists as she flips through her notes again. Instead of reading, she had another polaroid image to show him. “Might this jog your memory?” she asks, placing it above the other images.

It’s you. All bloody and cut to ribbons. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. You’re so beautiful but so broken. Who could do this to you?

“Jesus, what happened to her? Can I see her?”

“What do you do for fun, Zeke?”

“Stop asking me that! I want to know what happened to my fiancé! I need to see her!” he raises his voice, momentarily standing from his seat before the therapists scalding glare forces him back into his seat.

“You happened to her. Shall I read her statement to you?” she queries, flipping through her papers until she finds your handwriting. She clears her throat as she prepares to speak. Zeke looks terrified. He doesn’t know you or himself. “We were flirting discretely over dinner. When Eren went to bed it got more intense and I knew I wanted to have sex with him, so we did. We were against the mirror in his bedroom and he performed oral sex on me. He made me look at myself as we had sex and it was pleasant. Until he snapped. I think the change happened when I scratched his back. He started calling me names and he became rougher with me. As he began to climax, he pushed my head against the mirror and told me that I need to see how a whore takes his cum. He didn’t stop pushing and that’s when I started screaming. He pushed so hard that the glass broke, shards entering and slicing the skin on my face. That’s when Eren came in.”

She finishes speaking and looks at Zeke incredulously. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t believe you would tell such a vicious lie. Are you trying to ruin him to save your reputation? You’re his fiancé now, why would you do such a thing?

“I wouldn’t— I would not do that.”

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“Are you listening to me? I did not fucking hurt that girl, I love her. We’re happy.” Zeke expressed pathetically. It was obvious to him that she wasn’t buying it, though. But who was she going to believe? Women stick together in times like these.

“What happened between you and Eren when he found the two of you?”

“We argued but, everything is fine now, right Eren?” Zeke asks his brother. He simply shakes his head, remaining completely silent as he does. “I don’t— I don’t understand what is happening.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember what you did to her? Or if you slept with these prostitutes?” she goads him, but he shakes his head in utter refusal. When will this end? “You aren’t yourself right now, Zeke.”

“Fuck you.” he spits at her. She only smiles.

“Do you remember hurting your brother?”

“Aren’t therapists supposed to help people? Are you trying to make me lose my mind?”

“He came in to see what all of the ruckus was about when his fiancé was screaming. You picked up a huge shard of mirror glass and pinned him to the armchair and stabbed him again and again. You don’t remember killing your brother?” she explains. He scoffs at that.

“Eren isn’t dead, he’s right here. Are you stupid?”

“Zeke, tell me what you like doing for fun.”

“No! What the fuck is the matter with you? You’re making up lies about my fiancé and my brother.”

“This girl here was stabbed. This one was chased and murdered with a chainsaw. This one was shot. This one was strangled. And you were the last person to see them all alive, after paying them for sex.”

“I don’t care about them. I care about why the fuck you just told me my brother is dead.” he barks. She shakes her head and stares at him.

“You tried to kill Eren’s fiancé. She managed to get away and call the police. But it was too late for Eren, he’s dead.” she tells him yet again. He almost growls at her answer, unable to believe she’s still speaking so cruelly to him and his brother.

“Are you blind? He’s here. He’s literally right fucking h—” Zeke has to pause as he turns to face his brother one final time. He isn’t sitting beside him pulling sarcastic faces and refusing to speak. He isn’t disgusted with him after the therapist had dredged up their past and betrayals.

No.

Eren is dead. He is right next to Zeke, but he is dead. His head drooping backwards over the back of the arm chair with dozens of stab wounds in his neck and even more on his shoulders and down to his stomach. The large mirror shard is still lodged in his younger siblings’ neck. His head moves rigidly so he can face the therapist. He looks down at the coffee one final time. He remembers you. You only met one time and he fucked you stupid. He remembers smashing your head into the mirror. He remembers how badly he needed you and how tight you were around his cock. He’s even starting to remember the prostitutes. At this point, he’s crying. Not because he’s sad, he’s laughing maniacally. It’s all coming back.

Fuck.

Every single thing is coming back to him, now.

“What do you like to do for fun, Zeke?” she asks, one final time. He manages to still his laughter as he wipes away his tears. He has an answer for her now. He finally has an answer he thinks she’s going to like.

“I like killing people,” he laughs softly, smoking a cigarette he lights up. A cigarette he feels may be his final one for a long time. “I like killing people, for fun.”

© 2022 fuwushiguro

[yallalreadyknowitsunderale]

Stupid Rambling/theory I guess

Kris and their Soul

Something that I don’t think I’ve ever seen discussed when analyzing Kris’ behavior in deltarune is that, when Kris removes their soul from their body, they gain full control of their body yes, but it might be at the expense of their compassion

What if, when Kris is soulless, we assume that they are similar to Flowey in Undertale. They are incapable of feeling (or find it extremely difficult to feel) compassion for others. The rules might work differently, but the soul is still referred to as “the font of our compassion” in Deltarune’s world (although in context this is just speculation, not a hard fact)

That’s not to say Kris is a bad person, I think it’s the exact opposite. I think Kris is inherently good natured, but I think a lot of their more out there behavior might make more sense if you consider the idea that some of those decisions might have been made when they lacked their soul.

I think a good example is the intermission between Chapters 1 and 2

In between Chapters 1 and 2, Kris remorselessly eats the entire pie that Toriel left out to cool for them to share

But then, not even ten seconds later, if you make Kris take five dollars out of Asriel’s dresser drawer, five dollars that have probably been sitting there for months and clearly doesn’t mean all that much, Kris feels so bad about it that the language makes explicit that they are reluctant to do this and intend to pay Asriel back

But then, Kris later slashes the tires on Toriel’s car.

The key difference between these 3 actions though, is whether or not Kris is in possession of their soul

We don’t know why or how Kris knows what to do when they remove their soul, but a common theme is that the actions they take are actions that require a lack of compassion. Kris is not the kind of person who would slash their mother’s tires under normal circumstances, but if they are incapable of caring, that changes.

And I think this logic can apply to other strange things about Kris’ behavior.

My personal belief at current is that Kris, for some reason, has been living without a soul for a very long time. Maybe their entire life prior to Deltarune.

Noelle, despite being so close to Kris that they know each other better than anybody, repeatedly comments that she doesn’t even know if she and Kris are even friends.

Kris has apparently never even said it out LOUD before

Without a soul, maybe Kris was just unable to understand why that would be important to mention. Maybe because of their lack of a soul, despite how close the two became, Kris could never truly connect with Noelle on an emotional level. They couldn’t FEEL for her, no matter how much they tried.

Kris is also repeatedly surprised whenever Susie assumes that they don’t like her.

Kris is never scared of Susie’s threats, and might have just assumed they were playing around.

Kris might have not even realized that Susie was trying to hurt them. If they’re the kind of person who has trouble feeling or understanding empathy (without their soul, I mean) Susie’s words might not have had any impact on them. They just. Didn’t understand. They COULDN’T understand.

At the end of chapter 2’s weird route, the thing that Noelle distinctly points out as the most abnormal thing about Kris’ behavior is that they keep visiting her dad in the hospital. Rudy himself is surprised that Kris came to visit him in the hospital.

It’s not as if Kris never visits the hospital, they do, very often in fact, to play the shitty piano

It is specifically going out of their way to see Rudy that’s strange. And I think it could be inferred that it’s strange for Kris to do this because that is an act of pure compassion.

Kris might just not have been able to understand why it would be important to visit Rudy in the hospital.

Before chapter 1, Kris seemingly doesn’t talk to anybody other than their mom, they don’t do much of anything except go to school and come back home, they don’t really have any friends, their side of the room is completely empty, not from neglect by their family but because Kris seemingly didn’t care to have anything at all.

A lot of people have wondered why Kris’ actions at the end of a normal and weird route are the same despite Kris clearly being horrified and afraid of the player’s actions, and I think the explanation is right there. They remove their soul before they take those actions. They have removed the part of themself that feels these things.

And I think Kris is slowly realizing that they don’t want to live this way anymore.

In Chapter 1, Kris is repeatedly described as looking bored, or like they don’t care. Their dialogue options are incredibly basic at best and distinctly annoyed sounding at worst. They give off the impression that they want all of this to be over as soon as possible.

But in Chapter 2, their responses are starting to become more playful, they’re becoming more personally expressive, they’re enjoying the time they’re spending with their friends.

And I don’t think Kris wants to have to choose between their compassion and their autonomy.

I think it’s important to remember that Flowey was initially so depressed from his inability to love or care about anybody that he tried to erase himself from the world.

I think this is one of the things that’s so scary for Kris. It’s not just about control, it’s about becoming whole again.

[neoninky]

TWST Shenanigan Post: 'How I Met Your Mother'

It was a long work day and I am spent....but not so much that I don't want to make this stupid post for my own amusement lol.

So on an art poll I put up some time ago, the people have spoken and a desire for art of 2nd Gen Canon x OC babies was put on the table. So that's definitely on the top of my 'To Draw' list along with re-introducing my SC gurls. While that is being worked on behind the scenes, I had a silly thought regarding the canon bois telling their kids how they hooked their oc wives (or visa versa cough)...more specifically, Leona Kingscholar and the other Savannaclaw bois lol. I have ideas for the characters that Ruggie and Jack end up with but they aren't nearly as fleshed out (I'll do a part 2, part 3, etc. later) so just everyone's favorite grumpy lion prince today lol.

Anyone who read my 2nd Gen short story about the Octatrio bbys knows which one of my girls Leona marries but for the sake of spoilers, under the cut we go:

Context: While I didn't give them a lot of on-page interaction together in Her Ivory Crown, Leona and my OC, Adela De Beau do get together in the future and have a son that is mentioned in the kiddo short story. Outside of being an eighteen year old student, Adela is also a fashion model that is popular and lucrative enough to have worked with Vil on a few shoots before. She's also a mixed human-beastman lion girl who can magically switch back and forth between looking fully human and looking fully beastwoman. She mostly models in her human look cuz work reasons but occasionally, Adela does let her lioness self show.

Aaaand action!

Scene: Leona (still at NRC) has been casually talking to Adela from Sacred Crown since the first time they met. He's forced to go back home for some event (aside from The Cloud Calling lol) and oh wouldn't you know it? Adela's in town for a short holiday and she wants to see him!

Leona: *tired af from being around his family arrives at the hotel address Adela sent him* "ugh.. " 😑 *he gets to the door and knocks while looking at something on his phone, totally not paying attention as the door opens* "sup."

*looks up* ....!!!

Adela: *In lioness mode, hair natural, no make up, wearing glasses instead of contacts, baggy t-shirt, and pj short shorts, barefoot.*

*Snaps the book she was reading a minute ago shut with a searing look on her face* "Alright Kingscholar, listen up. I don't get a break from my modeling schedule very often, let alone a week-long one, plus I have this expensive and entirely too big for one person suite all to myself, all. week. long. ....so either you get your ass in here and bed rot with me while I read through my stack of books and/or do nothing but be comfy, watch movies, and eat whatever the hell we want, just the two of us the entire time OR be gone from my presence this instant."

Leona: ..........*looks her up and down, totally used to seeing her in full hot fashion bitch mode* ....*chucks cellphone over shoulder before leaning against the door frame with the most smug smirk he's ever smirked, tail swishing, 1000% hooked* "Sup~♥️♥️♥️♥️”

(Time Skip to Dad!Leona talking to his son)

Leona: And that is how your mother bagged me for life.

Asani: ...don't you mean how you bagged her?? Leona: *totally deadpan* I do not. Adela's a very busy woman but her time is down time or else and Leona ain't about to defy his queen lol. Lions who bed rot together stay together 😂

[think4fkinonce]

Some thoughts on "intelligence"

Intelligence is vague. People are all so different in their strengths and weaknesses. Everyone can contribute in different ways and that's fine. If we started valuing people more, it wouldn't matter as much.

Despite the criticisms, there's a positive correlation with high IQ scores and neurodivergence. I don't see this as a reason for an elitism mentality (ew). I think it highlights the incongruence in how society values "smartness" but simultaneously devalues people who deviate from social norms.

I'm tired of people arguing about whether IQ can be augmented or not. Or if you can "study" for an IQ test. You can't study for it per se however, you can absolutely get a better score by knowing ahead of time what these tests are looking for. Different tests test different things. Some are more visual than others. This can impact the score you make. But most all of them test logic, pattern recognition and mental math. I don't think i need to tell you that you can learn and improve on these to *some* degree. You can't change your raw intelligence but you can get better at certain things like math if you put in sufficient effort. And there's nothing wrong with trying to get better at those things.

The scope of what these tests actually test is actually quite narrow. It gets the "basics" but we all know the big picture is more than just the "basics".

I don't think iq is as fixed as some would like to make out. A person could go in feeling great, hopped up on nootropics and Adderall and make a 125. That same person could go in sick and foggy headed, doped up on benadryl and score a lot lower, but who's gonna do that? It's more of a snapshot how a person is that day.

Intelligence changes as you age at least a little. It varies from person to person but I think they say you peak around your mid 20s then it starts to very slowly wane thereafter. But you of course, gain a greater quantity of knowledge and experience. Not that trading working memory for life experience is a 1:1 tradeoff. It just shifts around in different areas.

Working a vapid stressful job doesn't do your brain any favors. Depression and anxiety (y'know from working your life away just to survive) can negatively impact your reasoning and memory. It can give you brain fog. Cheap processed food does it too. Healthier food tends to be more expensive.

I don't think high IQ clubs are just a bunch of elitist sapiosexuals jacking off to arbitrary numbers. Some people are obnoxious about it but I've met Mensa members who are NOT like that. I think it's closer to a bunch of neurodivergent people looking for common ground and connection. Many of us get tired of the typical vapidity of life and need more stimulating connections, I think this is true of most ND people whether their IQ is 115 or 155. So what if someone has pride over a stupid number anyway? As long as they aren't being obnoxious to others about it, I can't say I care. I've always wanted to join one of those even if only to observe. I just barely missed the mark on the last one I took and I think age, PTSD and anxiety have taken its toll on my cognitive health enough that I think this ship has long sailed.

Quite honestly, the whole "sapiophobia" thing leaves a gross taste in my mouth because it almost sounds like coded ableism in itself. There's already an attack on intelligence in our society. We are forced to work jobs that kill our brains. School is made fucking expensive and out of reach for many. We have next to no time for creativity due to wage slavery. Intelligence being important to someone isn't grounds for mockery. We need to address our limited views of what intelligence is and what people actually mean by that.

"Sapiosexual" isn't a special thing. We all look for intelligence in partners whether we think we do or not. Intelligence means a lot of things. You may not be specifically looking to date a math major, but if your special interest is trains, you'll probably want a partner who is somewhat knowledgeable about them or at least willing to share that passion. I'm not looking to date someone who isn't compatible and that does have a lot to do with how they think about the world. If it's too different, it's not a great match. Sapiosexual...it's really a weird thing to identify as.

[atomicsuperrobot]

For anybody wondering if I ever get tired of being bitter and angry all the time: yeah, actually! It's pretty damn exhausting, in fact, on top of everything else in my life that's exhausting- which, shocker!! Is Everything!!!

But at the same time, I cannot seem to stop being so miserable all the time. I'm kind of stuck, you see; living in a fairly bad situation and being unable to do anything about it, bc the reason the situation is so bad in the first place is a lack of finances- finances that I cannot actually obtain in any fashion, but would need in order to be able to obtain. One of Those sorts of situations, yes? The problem sort of feeds into itself.

Not to mention I have a habit of neglecting myself, bc for some reason doing even the slightest bit of self-maintenance is very hard for me. I don't understand why, and am quite weary of this situation by now...

But, I've also always kind of been a brat, and constant unfettered access to the internet has not helped this problem. But I do not have anything better to do, quite literally; and it is because of the lack of finances situation that I just mentioned. I would love to be able to do more, but going out and doing things, aside from being quite dangerous in this day and age due to the literal fucking plague, takes quite a lot of money- money that I've never had, and likely never will have. Even acquiring materials for hobbies is extremely expensive; not to mention there's a space issue in my current home, which I've been stuck in for the past 25+ years.

So yeah, aside from my own failings in personality, I've got several contributing factors that are decidedly Not Helping, At All. Not that it excuses my actions; but I do go out of my way to mostly try to keep my complaining to myself. It's just that people find my complaining, and then see fit to complain to me about my complaining, no matter how valid my complaints might be in the moment (which plenty of them are, tho certainly not all of them). Someone once even got mad at me for complaining on my own blog, and complained to me about it. On anon. Real upstanding citizen, right there. Pretty sure I just blocked that one outright, like I wish I had with the fuckin pr0sh1pper that found me bc I made the monumentally stupid mistake of posting a complaint about people like them in the related fandom tag. They also somehow also thought it was about them specifically, tho idek who tf they were bc they were on anon, and I had apparently probably already blocked them from my main (Tumblr please add cross-blog/account-bound blocking features I beg of you). Vain-ass mfer. I should have blocked them off the bat, rather than trying to explain to them that they were Wrong, Actually, About Everything, bc it never works with those people, anyways. Eugh. Anyways. Lost the plot a bit, there...

[clicheyettouche]

THE SUICIDE NOTE I NEVER FINISHED WRITING.

What I actually wrote today is very sensitive. It's not for everyone. It's about my suicide attempts and my thoughts about it. So, if you're uncomfortable with this kind of topic then please don't bother reading it. I just want to voice out what I've been through.

So yup! If you're wondering about the title, it is 100% truth. There's no reason for me to joke about this. And the idea of opening up about this is actually just because of the sudden deaths. Like, ang dami nag su-suicide talaga. The funny thing is, sobrang timing.

So, I was checking out my old drafts on my old wattpad account the other day when I stumbled upon the suicide note I had written years ago when I was still in college, entitled "moonlight and butterfly". I debated for 10 minutes about opening it and reading it. Kasi it might trigger me or something. Eventually, I gave in. Well, akin naman 'yun so I don't think I can stop myself from opening it. My heart sank when I read every word so, again...tears fell down my face as I read the words I had written.

If you ask me now, I do remember everything and why I felt so desperate and tormented. I know I was dealing with severe anxiety, and that I had lost most of my friends because I never left the house, and I clearly remember how stupid, sad and alone I was. The letter didn't even explain my reasoning for wanting to end my life. All I know is there's a lot of days that I really did contemplate committing suicide on a daily basis, and I'm not sure what will put me over the edge and when. What I wrote was mostly apologetic, and called out some of my family and friends specifically to tell them how much I loved them. But it was still heartbreaking. The words were so sad.

I'll share you the half of my letter...

I have my free trial of life and I want to cancel it before I have to start paying for it. I don't like it very much and it's too expensive. I was never the person I wanted to be. Maybe without the darkness I would have been a better person, maybe not.

If you are reading this, chances are that I've killed myself in some manner. As of the time I am writing this I have not decided on how. I am sorry for how this made you feel. It has been on my brain for a long time and obviously I succumbed. I was so tired and helpless.

Let me start off saying I do not want to be cremated. I don't want my ashes to be kept in an urn, it'll make me feel alone even more. I just want a private funeral, wake, memorial, orbituary or even a cross somewhere in remembrance. I want a lot of daisies around my casket because that's my favorite flower.

I would also really not like the news of this to travel far. I don't want people to feel sad for me or even pity me more. And there are a couple of things I would like to say to some people I cherish the most:

Mommy and Daddy: Please don't be sad. None of this was your fault. So,thank you for raising me with love. I never once doubted that the two of you loved me very much.

5K: This is just my choice. I thought long and hard on this, It is what I want. And I know you guys don't want this for me. I'm sorry but none of your existential quote or words of wisdom can cure this, It won't change anything. Believe me. I did everything to save myself but It just so happens that I am not that strong as you think I am. I sincerely hope that y'all will move on from this and just be happy without me. It's okay. I can say I'm finally free and you don't have to worry. Love you all! xx

You see...

I do not fear death. I fear life. I fear the tortures of my every day. I fear the noise and the vision. I fear what I can do. I fear what I will do. I'm sorry everyone but this world is just not my place. Maybe I was meant to be a ghost who watches people everyday and just wonder why am I here on earth or a lost butterfly in someone else's garden. I am leaving a world to which I never truly belonged or fit in. And I'm sorry if I'm not strong enough. Know that I'm gone because I chose to do so. There's no one to blame.

For once, I finished something I started. For once I was brave enough to go through with something risky and dangerous. I want my peace. I do hope that I can watch you all from the clouds above. And sending down the purest and beautiful butterflies to send you love and comfort.

The act of taking my own life is not something I am doing without a lot of thought. Grabe 'yung pag-iisip ko, sobra pa sa sobra. I'm an overthinker, it's either my thoughts can save me from actually doing it or it can be the cause of my death.

I tried to cancel the free trial, but sadly it didn't work. I attempted suicide three times and I failed thrice can you imagine that? Mas toxic ang thoughts ko noon. I have this situation where I was so numb from too much pain. It was a real madness inside me. No one knows about this story pero I think it's time to open this part of my life.

During my college I struggled with the whole "going no where" thing ever since I was out of high school. There's no one I can be transparent to about what I'm feeling. I feel like everyone is too busy with their own life and I was just a burden all this time. I hate college and I would rather be homeless, I would rather work a shi t job or I would rather lie in bed until I die. Honestly I don't know what is and what isn't for me anymore. Overall I'm so tired and completely lost all my motivation and my brain can't find dopamine to get me to care. It all feels pointless. So that time I have to go to school of course kasi it's weekdays. And I did. But before I go to school I'm thinking ways to do it. There's not a day I don't think about life if I didn't exist. There's not a day I don't stare at the taunting blade underneath our desk, making me wonder how deep do I have to cut until I fall asleep.

I remember meron pa nga akong rope sa kwarto ni lola and I'm the one who tie it into a knot. I'm not sure if they got weirded out or wonder why there's a rope there. What my plan was, I can just do it sa edge ng kama, 'yun bang sa sobrang higpit I will never grasp for air. It's actually how prisoner execute their suicide. Moving forward I had to go to school, and I did. I'm actually standing in front of the school entrance thinking if I should go inside or just end myself. But what I did was I turned around at sumakay ako ng jeep na wala sa sarili. I stare people blankly. And I almost forgot to pay for my own fare dahil nakatulala lang ako sa kawalan. What am I thinking? I'm actually deciding.

I have to decide that time.

'Kung lalagpas ako sa usual na binababaan ko pauwi. I'll probably gonna kill myself. I mean there's a lot of option for me. I can go to MRT, mag pasagasa or tumalon sa building. I mean I'm not really scared of doing it, the only thing na pumipigil sa'kin is 'yung mga taong maiiwan ko. As I was looking outside the jeep. What flashes right before my eyes was my own family grieving and blaming themselves when I'm gone. I truly believe my body would be nothing but dust before anyone would even notice I wasn't around pero I know how painful it would be for them. The awful sickness I feel inside of me is eating me alive from the inside out but I'm not selfish. I care about my family more than I care for myself.

I look cold as ice on the outside but the moment I got home. I did cry so hard. All I did was cry. Dun ako nag decide na hindi ko na kaya, na I don't want to go to college anymore. Hindi naman sa ayaw kong mag-aral, I mean theres more to that. I wanted to but how am I supposed to do that? It's really hard for me to explain. And the most heartbreaking part of that situation was, my own father told me na nag-iinarte lang ako. It hurts me more kasi I'm at my lowest and that's the time that I realised that no one really tried to understand me. I really wish na pag-iinarte nga lang ang lahat so it's a lot more easier for me to deal with. Pero hindi eh. No one bothers asking me why or what happened without giving me judgements and all. Maybe this is the reason why I prefer to just keep it all to myself.

I always tell myself that I am strong. I have always been strong, but until when? How long do I have to keep holding on? I can't see myself growing old or dying of natural causes. During those critical times the only way I can see myself go is if i do it myself. Some nights you feel the void in your heart growing and you wonder if It's going to be like that forever. You become exhausted trying to win against your loneliness, so you just sit in the corner, and passively let it eat you alive. I faced multiple problems everyday.

Money. Motivation. Rejection. Will to live. I also ate insults for lunch from myself. I'm fat. I'm ugly. I'm harsh. I'm insecure. I'm so fucking edgy and raw, that's why I scare myself sometimes. There were specific incident when I went further than I had intended to, or I broke a personal rule or boundary I'd previously set myself, and at those times I was really, immediately, very scared of myself and what I could do to myself. The recent incident was only last year. I cut myself, there's a lot of lines on my wrist. It's getting deeper and deeper every cuts. But my intention was not to cut my wrist anyway, I want to slit my throat or just stab myself. Because I want a sure kill. That's how my mind works.

As much as I try to be a decent, relatively normal person, there is just a dark cloud over me. I'm dissociated a lot of the time. I don't trust people. I love humanity, but I do hate people. There is just this darkness inside of me that is scary. They don't know or understand what it feels like to carry that the whole entire time. What it does to a person. I am not bad and I know that. I was always the sympathetic and empathetic one that saw the good in everyone. I still am. But I'm scared of myself. What's inside me, and what I am capable of. So, I'm hoping na people would understand me. I mean I don't think I'm suicidal. I'm not that person na araw-araw the only thought I have is to kill myself. Hindi pa ako umaabot sa ganon, those kind of idea will eventually come to me kapag hindi ko na alam 'kung sa paanong way ko i-hahandle 'yung situation. Like when something BIG happened to the point na I can't even handle my own thoughts and emotions or I can't control the situation I'm in doon ako nag-iisip ng masama.

Feeling like a contradiction. Wanting connection, but avoiding it. Wanting to friendly or decent, but knowing one could explode at any moment. It's a tough way to live, holding that at bay all the time. This is why I have a butterfly tattoo. It resembles my life kahit papaano. Like, I was in a cocoon that was dark, confusing, and incredibly sad. I was scared of people, and I still am, but not as much as before. I was told that I was troubled, that something was wrong with me, and that I was disturbed. No one took the time to understand me, but they took the time to judge and reject me. Butterfly is supposed to be held for a short time and then let go. It's beauty is not for anyone to possess and if someone tried to possess it, the butterfly ceases to exist. I flit through life and I enter people's lives for a short time, then I fly away. I learn from them, and they learn from me. I'm always sad at the end of my time with them, but I'm happy for the experience.

I don't want to be born as human again if I have a choice. Being a butterfly is not a bad idea. That seems like the good life. Short and Simple. Being a human is just...too complicated and miserable. So many limbs, and digits on this body to worry about. And what am I supposed to be doing this whole time? Walk around? Touch things? Cry everytime? Forget it... I'd rather just fly above everything and observe. It'd be worth drinking sweet nectar from flowers.

And before I die I wish I'm listening to Butterfly by BTS because that's also my favorite song from them and I don't want a cremation! I hate that. Anyway this is not a suicide note...I hope it's not tho. All I know is that the only reason why I'm still alive is I want to spare my family from pain and trauma. Because I felt that.

[makeste]

but I just feel too tired to be fighting

this is a follow-up post to what I said in my recap the other day about this arc being the Deku Angst arc, as opposed to the Villain Hunt arc or the Deku SIXQUIRKS Exhibition arc. I feel like the fandom discussion tends to focus on the flashier parts of the chapters -- the sexy villains and the new quirk reveals and the Shindous -- each week, and so the quieter emotional beats sometimes get overlooked, especially since the character arc here is playing out in little bits and pieces over time rather than all at once.

this has always been a very reactionary fandom, and there’s a tendency to judge the chapters week to week without ever going back to look at how they all fit into the big picture. so I figured I would try to attempt that, and basically go chapter by chapter here to look at what exactly Horikoshi is setting up and how it all fits together.

so let’s start with the end of chapter 306, which is when the arc officially kicks off. specifically with the very last page:

this is imo one of the best pages Horikoshi has ever drawn. I got the sense that this was a scene he’d had in his mind’s eye for quite a long time, and that he was excited to finally get to this part of the story. it’s extremely effective as both a chapter-ender, and an arc-opener. like, look at this:

it establishes the initial premise of the new arc -- the world is in chaos, and Deku is now seemingly on his own

it leaves the readers with a number of questions. why did Deku leave U.A.?? is he really on his own now?? why does he look so beat-up and exhausted?? what is he up to?? what is the world like now that all these villains have been unleashed and the heroes have been decimated?? and most importantly of all, what the fuck is going to happen next??

it pays homage to some of Horikoshi’s comic book influences -- Batman in particular

it dramatically hits us with that “THE FINAL ACT BEGINS” and lets us know that shit is getting real now

that’s some good shit. so much so that I think people tended to overlook the other notable thing about this page amidst all of the initial excitement and discussion and speculation about where the series was headed. and that is the fact that the final panel in this chapter is NOT the panel of Deku standing above the city. the very last panel, the one that this chapter actually ends on, is instead the close-up of Deku’s face. his face, which is covered in shadow; and his eyes, which have dark circles under them and are prominently missing the usual flecks of light that give him his signature “sunny optimistic shounen protagonist” look.

not to mention this last line here, which is a call back to the very first time we saw the 14-year-old Deku way back in chapter one.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Horikoshi chose to throw this reference in. nor is it a coincidence that THIS is the scene he actually chose to end the chapter on. what this does is show us the drastic shift in Deku’s emotional state of mind, and his attitude towards being a hero. he’s gone from being thrilled and excited to being jaded and exhausted. he’s matured, but at a great cost. it’s always been his dream to be a hero, but “be careful what you wish for” is a popular adage for a reason. and right now he looks the furthest thing from happy.

and this is the emotional beat that Horikoshi chooses to end the chapter on. this is the panel that closes out the War arc, and begins the final act. to me the message could not be clearer -- this arc will be about the exploration of Deku’s character, and his struggle as he tries to live up to the expectations that have been placed on him as the Last Holder of OFA and quite possibly the World’s Only Hope.

it’s a character arc that builds on a lot of the things we’ve already learned about Deku over the course of the series, such as the fact that he is reckless, and that he focuses on others often at the expense of himself. but more importantly, it’s an arc that finally expands on the dark side of what has up until now been a net positive for Deku -- the power of OFA. up until this point, despite its ups and downs, it’s been a boon for Deku overall and has allowed him to pursue his dream. but now we’re finally reaching the point where the monkey’s paw part of the OFA blessing/curse finally starts to come into play. OFA gives Deku more power than he could have ever dreamed of, but it also comes with a built-in destiny that he can’t opt out of whether he likes it or not. AFO is on the loose and out there trying to destroy the world. and now everyone has pinned their hopes on this sixteen-year-old kid, and the question of whether or not the sixteen-year-old kid is ready is apparently not one that anyone feels inclined to ask (possibly because they’re afraid that the answer might be “no”).

he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. he has to do it, because there’s no one else who can. that’s the kind of pressure that is on Deku now.

and on that note, we begin the Deku Angst arc.

chapter 307

this in hindsight was mostly just a set-up chapter to better establish the current state of the BnHA world at large (spoilers: it’s not good), while also providing an answer for one of the big initial questions of the arc -- namely, “what happened to all of those villains that AFO released from Tartarus?” these are important things to touch on, but the pacing could definitely have been better, and the bulk of the chapter was dedicated to providing fanservice to all of the Shindou fans who spammed the most recent popularity poll (which, whatever lol). anyway, so this was the sole chapter thus far with absolutely no Deku development. thankfully the arc picks up from there.

chapter 308

on to the next one! this was the one and only chapter thus far which I think actually qualifies as an “exhibition fight.” this was definitely all about showing off Deku’s current powerset, as well as introducing us to another of the SIXQUIRKS. however, there was Deku development here as well, most notably in this scene:

this is the scene that got a lot of people speculating that this arc was going to focus on Deku hunting down all of the old villains. but I think people got so caught up in that speculation that they overlooked what this scene tells us about Deku’s mindset. and yes, there is new information being revealed here, and it’s not just a rehash of the stuff we already knew. like yes, we know that Deku was shaken up by the recent encounters with Dabi and Tomura, and we know that made him start questioning why villains become villains in the first place, and all that good stuff, and that’s great. however, there are two additional important things that this scene helps establish for us.

the upcoming battle with TomurAFO is weighing heavily on Deku’s mind. this is something that will become a recurring theme in this arc. Deku is thinking about this constantly. the question of what to do when he finally encounters TomurAFO again is knocking incessantly at the back of his mind, and this won’t be the last time it comes up.

Deku is using these villain encounters as test runs. can Tomura be redeemed?? is he just being stupid and naïve?? or is this really something worth attempting?? the interesting thing about this is that Deku’s resolve to save people is usually so strong and unwavering that it’s more than enough to overcome any doubts that he might have. but this time it seems like the repeated objections posed by the Vestiges and Gran Torino have really gotten to him. it’s possible I’m just reading way too much into things, but to me it really feels like Deku’s recent attempts at Talk no Jutsu were meant to do more than just show his growing awareness that the line between heroes and villains is thinner than he once imagined. they’re also serving as trial runs for the real test, when it finally comes. if he can “save” even a villain like Muscular, there’s hope for him being able to save Tomura as well. and so that moment when Muscular rejects him out of hand is all the more disappointing to him, even if it wasn’t really unexpected. basically it wasn’t the answer that he had been hoping for.

aside from those little notes though, like I said, this was unquestionably an exhibition fight first and foremost. which is fine; we needed to establish where Deku is currently in terms of strength, and it was also just fun to see him kick some ass, ngl. in terms of story purpose this chapter was similar to 219, which showed us how Shouto and Katsuki had powered up after getting their provisional licenses. people who don’t care about those characters might argue that these fights weren’t necessary, but as someone who stans all three characters hard, I would disagree! but anyways, moving on.

chapter 309

in contrast to the previous chapter, this chapter focuses more on establishing Deku’s current mental state, as opposed to his physical state. and this is what we learn:

(1) Deku is ~technically~ being shadowed/accompanied by All Might and the Hawksquad (but in practice he’s avoiding them).

(2) it was Deku’s own decision to leave U.A., and he did it because he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt in order to protect him.

and finally, (3) Deku’s game plan is to stop Tomura and All for One before they reach full power.

this last part is very important, because it means there’s a countdown in effect. as far as Deku is concerned, there’s only a finite amount of time before TomurAFO becomes unstoppable. which means that he’s not only under “gotta get stronger” pressure, but time pressure as well. he doesn’t have the luxury of taking his time and training in safety. he’s being rushed now; this is do-or-die.

this chapter is also the first in this arc in which we get to see Deku’s expressions without the hood covering up his face, and what we see is very telling. as previously stated, the light is gone from Deku’s eyes. he keeps his expressions very neutral, and the only time we even see a hint of a smile is when he hugs his mom in the flashback, and it’s clear from the dialogue (“it’s okay, I’ll come home to you”) that he’s doing it for her sake in order to comfort her.

but aside from that, this is very much not the Deku we’ve grown accustomed to. this is the chapter that really establishes his current mental state imo. above all else, he’s afraid that more people will get hurt because of him, and so he’s distancing himself from everyone around him. and he’s also morbidly preoccupied with the inevitability of having to face TomurAFO again, and soon. the chapter ends on the flashback of Gran giving him his cape, and telling Deku that “killing can be another way to save someone.” there’s a lot on this kid’s mind, to say the least.

chapter 310

this chapter opens with a gang of civilians who are trying to open fire on a nice fox lady whose only crime was walking around in the rain at night. Deku intervenes to save her, and it’s the first time in this arc that we see anything close to the “old” Deku, who just wanted to save people with a smile.

but it’s bittersweet, because all the lady can talk about is how scared she was, and how horrible everything is right now. and so Deku, who feels responsible in a lot of ways for everything that’s happened, just feels that much more pressure to somehow make things right again.

there’s also this extra throwaway line which is especially heartbreaking:

“I can’t afford to be around anyone.” fucking ouch. just reinforcing once more how incredibly isolated Deku is right now -- not by choice, but because he feels like it’s not safe to let anyone else get close to him. and so he’s out here running around this dystopian cityscape in the middle of the night in the pouring rain all on his own, and neglecting himself to the point where All Might practically has to force a bento on him.

but does he complain? of course not. because his focus is never on himself. instead, when he settles down to eat, his thoughts immediately drift back to, guess who...

it’s that time pressure once again. “unless I draw out One for All’s full power, I can’t stop any of this.” it’s just nonstop, I have to get stronger, I’m running out of time, I have to do better, and constantly thinking about that inevitable confrontation.

Deku is a thinker, you guys. and when left to his own devices he will overthink, every time. his mind will run in endless loops while he mentally works his way through all of the possibilities. and that’s one of his greatest strengths, don’t get me wrong, but at a time like this it’s also one of his greatest weaknesses. it’s just so fucking easy for him to get stuck in his own head, in his endless rambling thoughts and analyses. and without anyone else there to help distract him, or help him focus, he’s become fixated on his mission, and it’s slowly consuming him.

this, incidentally, is also the chapter in which we finally see Two and Three’s faces, and learn why Two in particular is so reluctant to lend his power to Deku. he appears to be the lone holdout at this point, so stay tuned on that, because I don’t doubt this will wind up being crucial to Deku’s future development, however it winds up playing out.

chapter 311

this chapter flips back to the Hawksquad for the first half, so we get a brief respite from the ongoing Dekuangst. right before we switch back though, we do get confirmation of something we had pretty much already guessed:

like, that much was already apparent based on what we’d seen (the bags under his eyes; the fact that he refused to sit still in any one place for very long even at night), but it’s always nice to get the official confirmation so that people can’t dispute it lol. so yeah, Deku isn’t sleeping much. and not eating much either, if all he’s getting is the occasional bento from Dadmight. so basically not taking care of himself at all, huge shocker there. but this is something that’s important enough to the story that Horikoshi took the time to point it out in the dialogue, in addition to all of the visual clues we’d already gotten.

and just in case we needed to drive that point in any further, this chapter ends with the appearance of Lady Nagant! like yeah, no shit Deku isn’t getting much sleep, what with him having to fend off racist civilians and hired assassins every five fucking minutes. smdh. can he live??

chapter 312

so this is the chapter that properly introduces Lady Nagant, who maaaay or may not be one of the primary antagonists of this arc?? like, it’s really unclear right now tbh, but she gets hyped up by Hawks and AFO, and has a flashback and a mysterious past and a weird trump card (where did you go, Overhaul) and all that good shit, so yeah? one can hope at any rate.

but anyway. so to his credit, Deku’s first thought is to retreat, but he quickly abandons that plan once he figures out Nagant’s location. this is played off like a logical strategic decision at first, but the subsequent chapter quickly makes it clear that Deku’s decision to take the fight to Nagant is less rational than he might have you think.

chapter 313

so yeah. last but not least, the most recent chapter, in which Deku’s real reason for targeting Lady soon becomes apparent:

what’s more, it quickly becomes clear that he miscalculated and probably would have been better off following Hawks’s advice, seeing as he promptly gets himself shot, and subsequently realizes that AFO gave Nagant an extra quirk, something he hadn’t taken into account. but instead of cutting his losses and running at this point, he doubles down instead and not only breaks out Smokescreen, but also the Third’s quirk which he has never even used before.

it’s worth noting that both En and the Third start telling him to chill at this point, and warn him that what he’s attempting is too dangerous. but tbh if they were expecting him to listen, they haven’t been reading the same arc I’ve been reading. once again, Horikoshi makes it clear that Deku has one thing and one thing only on his mind right now.

of course. once again it all comes back to this. hunt down AFO. it doesn’t matter that he’s exhausted. it doesn’t matter that he’s just been shot twice. it doesn’t matter that Hawks, despite knowing what Deku was capable of with his OFA abilities, specifically warned him away from this one person only. it doesn’t matter that even the Vestiges are trying to tell him you’re going too fast and you’re trying to do too much and it’s too dangerous.

he just doesn’t care. long story short, the only thing that matters to Deku right now is tracking down and defeating TomurAFO. and as the person who knows him best once so aptly put it, “he doesn’t take himself into account.” and therein lies the major challenge of this arc.

and so this is where we’re currently at now. and this has been a very long post, but if nothing else, I hope I was able to get this one point across: there is absolutely no way that Deku will be able to defeat TomurAFO as he is now. not a chance in hell. somehow he’s managed the uncommon feat of waging a war of attrition against himself, which is really quite an accomplishment. he’s not taking care of himself, and he’s refusing to listen to sound advice from the people surrounding him, and is trying to skip ahead to the final boss battle before he’s ready, because the guilt and pressure from feeling responsible for the current situation are eating him up. the only way that the world can go back to normal is if he can defeat AFO; therefore he has to do it as soon as possible, because time is running out and everyone is counting on him. this is who Deku is. and this is what inevitably happens when his saving mentality is taken to extremes, and left unchecked.

anyway so to wrap up this post now, I do think this arc is a lot more cohesive than it’s gotten credit for thus far, and Deku is the glue holding it all together. I for one am loving the exploration of his character and all the subtle little angsty touches as we build up to the big moment, whenever it finally comes. just keep in mind though that if his decisions right now seem reckless and short-sighted, it’s because they’re supposed to seem that way, because Deku is not in a good mental state right now. the cracks are finally showing in our perfect protagonist, just like everyone has been wanting this whole time. he is just a kid. he is doing his best. he is trying far too hard to do his best, and it is hurting him so badly, but he doesn’t even realize. this arc is not an endorsement of the Angsty Nomad Hero lifestyle, lol. it’s the exact fucking opposite, and I think it’s being wildly misinterpreted with all of the emphasis on “oh look at that, he mastered another quirk with no effort”, as opposed to “oh look at that, he is shutting down emotionally and is a few more missed nights of sleep away from a complete and total breakdown.”

tl;dr the overarching storyline of this arc is all about Deku slowly falling apart due to his trauma from Jakku, and the subsequent pressure that was put on him by the Vestiges with their whole “GUESS WHAT, YOU’RE THE LAST USER OF OFA, THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S ALL ON YOU BUDDY” pep talk. and mark my words, things are not going to go according to plan. something is going to go terribly wrong here. whether it’s something happening to All Might, or AFO setting up a trap for him, either way Deku is being set up to fail in a major way. unless of course, someone (or a group of someones) manages to intervene first, and possibly stage an intervention or something. it’s what he needs right now, but idk if Horikoshi is going to make it that easy.

anyway, but in other words, the point of this arc is not to show how much stronger Deku has gotten and how he doesn’t even need his friends anymore. it’s the exact opposite -- the point of this arc is to show that Deku needs his friends now more than ever. that in spite of OFA and all of its mystical trappings and fancy SIXQUIRKS, Deku can’t do this alone. he needs his friends. that’s the core message. and right now, we are at the “I can get by on my own” part of the story. and the part we are all waiting for, but which is coming -- I guarantee it is coming, you guys -- is “the thing is, you don’t have to.”

and that shit is going to slap hard you guys. and I for one can’t wait. but until then, enjoy the angst.

[ryosmne]

You're gonna fry your brain.

Hello everyone, since it's finals season and we're all probably really dead inside, I decided to self indulge in some tattoo artist! Sukuna writing, so here's this brainrot that won't let me focus on studying. You can read more of this au in the au masterlist.

I've been trying so hard to finish up a bartender! Dabi fic I have in the works for too long, hopefully I can get around to it too. After finals are done I'll be writing a lot more that's for sure.

Tattoo artist! Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings: language, suggestive tones, that's it.

Finals are by far the worst thing about college, y/n knows that the hard way. She's been stressing herself out for the past few days, maybe weeks, going over the same material again and again. She'd constantly argue that she really needs to pass with an high grade that's why she's so obsessive over it.

Sukuna had tried multiple times to help her ease her nerves, he's been there, although he was the type who never really stuck his nose in a book for too long, regardless, his best girl needed a break, no matter how hard she denied it.

Y/n had declined his invitations of going out, she dropped by the shop a few times, bringing Sukuna some food, but he could tell she was slowly burning herself up.

Today was no different, y/n had been writing everything down all day to help memorize it better. So many hours has passed since she started her study session but she didn't even notice that her clock read 8 pm already.

Sukuna did notice, y/n had been barely responding back to his texts and it was time he took matters into his own hands.

The earpiercing doorbell pulled y/n out of her trance like state, she quickly got up from her desk to go and get rid of whoever just rung it.

"Dollface, I was beginning to think you had died in there."

There was Sukuna, leaning in her doorframe, looking as good as he always did, in a plan white t shirt and a gray pair of sweatpants, holding a few bags and a huge basket.

"not quite, what's all this?"

Y/n motioned to the bags he had.

"Nothing much, just some things I picked up for you, will you let me in? this basket is fucking heavy."

No, the basket wasn't that heavy, Sukuna could carry it just fine, he just wanted to make sure that y/n didn't have a chance to deny him.

Y/n stepped aside to let Sukuna in, and he went straight to her kitchen, dropping his bags on the table.

"Thanks for dropping by babe, but I really need to finish the last three chapters I have left."

"Y/n, you're going to fry your brain at this rate, no more studying for today."

"But-"

"No buts, you won't read another sentence today. We're destressing together."

Turns out, Sukuna had brought over many different things. He's not the type of guy to shy away from anything, so the first thing he did was to grab y/n and drag her into her bathroom.

Sukuna had taken mental notes the first time he looked through y/n's skincare products, he was able to determine her skin type and he went a bit crazy, buying her different things to try out.

"You are insane, that's drunk elephant, why did you get this many things?"

"Because you have the really terrible cheap stuff, now shut up you're going to eat the soap if you keep talking with cleanser all over your face."

Now, y/n's skincare wasn't bad, Sukuna had expensive taste and he's a bit of a brand snob

Sukuna gently poked her cheek with a smile as y/n's face distorted because she had in fact tasted the cleanser and Sukuna could only laugh at her before she flicked some into his mouth too.

"Don't kiss me with a face mask on you brat"

Y/n let out a soft laugh, Sukuna was doing his best to concentrate at the task at hand. Matching y/n's nail polish to his. Y/n had just finished painting his, matte black like he requested but y/n gave him some white polish on his ring finger. Sukuna had argued for a bit, saying it didn't look good and that he didn't like it, but gave in after y/n gave him a puppy face, can you blame him?

"But you look so cute like that."

Y/n complained, knowing that this little comment was going to feed Sukuna's ego more.

"I know doll, but artificial orange doesn't taste as good as it smells."

Y/n once again wasn't wrong, his cocky attitude always creeped in at times, not that she minded.

Time passed fast with watching trash reality shows on y/n's couch, after their very own self care day, Sukuna made sure to fix something they could both eat. Now they were engolved in each others arms, y/n's sleepy eyes staring up at him.

"How are you feeling, doll?"

Sukuna's hand found her hair, gently resting on top of her head.

"Much better, you're the best you know that?"

"I've heard it once or twice, I'll give you reasons to say it more often"

He gave her a gentle smile, leaning closer to steal a kiss, a little more intimate than the ones they shared earlier.

" 'Kuna, I'm sorry I was so stressed and distant this week, I probably worried you-"

"Don't be stupid, it's ok, I just want you to know I'm here for you, and it's just finals. You're a smart cookie, I'm sure you'll do great."

Y/n found his words reassuring and nuzzled closer to him, letting her lungs burn with his scent that never got less intoxicating.

"Thank you 'kuna, what would I do without you?"

The last few words came out slurred, but Sukuna understood everything, y/n's breathing got steadier against him.

"I don't know doll I'm just glad to have you here, I promised to take good care of you."

And just like that, y/n was fast asleep next to him, he didn't mind her uncomfortable couch one bit all he cared about was how at peace she looked. Maybe he would move her to her bed later, he couldn't bring himself to do it now.

The next morning, y/n found herself on her bed, Sukuna had almost woken her up getting ready before he left to go to work, but he managed to put her right back to sleep with a kiss on the forehead and a light "don't wake up yet doll".

Y/n made her way to the kitchen, Sukuna usually left a little letter for her on the nightstand by the bed, he must've been in a rush today.

Not quite the case.

Sukuna not only made her, her favourite breakfast, he also left post it notes in some places.

You suck at food shopping, thank me later.

Was written on her fridge.

So that's what all the bags were for, y/n didn't find out last night because of how tired she was, and how much fun she had being around sukuna.

He had filled up her fridge with everything she ever needed to make a meal for herself or have a snack. Let's be honest Sukuna just wanted to cook for her again.

Another post it was found in her bathroom cabinet.

You're probably gonna get mad at me for this but I'm not sorry, you deserve it.

The poor cabinet was stuffed to the brim with brand name skincare that made anyone's wallet scream in anguish and a lot of bathbombs. Upon closer look y/n almost cried at how attentive Sukuna was, he took extra care to look out for her skins needs.

Y/n found the last post it on her desk while she did her revision.

Don't overwork yourself doll, you've got me for that.

Y/n brought Sukuna cupcakes from seven different bakeries to try that day.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Sukuna left early again?"

Megumi asked, the day had been going pretty slow he wasn't surprised his friend dipped.

"Yeah, he left this behind though."

Geto held up a very nice looking white shop bag, a slight glimmer in his eye let the rest of his friends know he planned something.

"So? What's in it anyways?"

Gojo was resting his chin on his hand, blank expression on his face, completely unamused by Geto's discovery.

"Give me that"

Nanami swiftly snatched the bag, curious to see what was inside of it. He reached in and retrieved several wrapped round objects.

"Bathbombs?"

He questioned puzzled, but then his lips tugged upward.

Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and Geto, each got two bathbombs, and even though they would outright say it, they were pretty damn exited to drop them in their bathtubs. That's what Sukuna gets for avoiding clean up.

Sukuna entered the shop barely greeting anyone and begun looking around. Fuck he was looking for something, everyone tried to keep their composure.

"Have you seen a white bag?"

He finally looked at the group of men before him.

"like a backpack? No "

Megumi spoke, Sukuna begun thinking he was remembering everything wrong, that's untill he saw something sticking out of Geto's pocket. That's for sure a bathbomb he bought for y/n

"You motherfuckers, how low can you stoop to steal my girls bathbombs?"

Hey it's me again, though I'd add that here, if you have specific skin demands I tried to cover that in here so everyone can enjoy it, I have lots of allergies and skin concerns so I'm kinda sensitive to that stuff. Hope you had fun reading, remember to take it easy, untill next time :>

Tag list: (comment or message me and I’ll gladly add you)

@artist4theworld @skatercashew

@divineteaty

@in-inception

@not-another-ackerman

@jjk-is-my-shit @ilovemarvel99

@thegaymadafakkasworld @readinghassavedmylife @ruler-of-the-skies

@bluebananasssss

@ghost-of-todoroki

@sabsaocit

@heaveus

@jackysenpaii @rebenok-zimnayaya

@aam1na @sore-eyes@ryan249057 @goobygoobster @charlie-xo @kamisamaundercover

@shadoweepingscream

@sunfloweroranges

@haleypearce

@crapimahuman

@fiona782

@levi-ships-eruri

@chocolatecake764

@stupid-simp33 @ciphersighs

[discopig]

That other girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 1/3]

This is lowkey inspired by Sevdaliza’s song “That other girl” so give it a listen, she’s really underrated. As a member of the Grace love-hate relationship club, and an angst lover, I’m going to enjoy writing this. I might give it a fluffy ending but we’ll see! This isn’t set in any specific season because I honestly enjoy kinda ignoring the original plotline of the show... whoops! This is a short intro chapter

When Grace Burgess moves to Birmingham, she’s automatically the star of the show, her gracious face and innocence capturing the hearts of those who lay their eyes on her, but you don’t buy it. Her sudden appearance and posh aura setting your intuition off, a perk you’d gained from being around Polly so much. At first you try to ignore her presence, but when your boyfriend, and long time friend - Thomas Shelby, takes a keen liking to Grace, could you ever win against that other girl? Word Count: 978

Part 2 | Part 3

It was your regular evening at the Garrison, hundreds of drunk men piled up in the bar, the sounds of laughter and yelling penetrating your eardrums. You had been working at the Garrison for over 9 years, first accepting the job as a way to make some cash as you were only 18 when you ran away from your family, and the position happened to be vacant. You never intended to stay, the fumes of the factories and dark alleys in Birmingham being a stark contrast to the posh greenery and lavish villas you grew up with, however life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

You were now 27 and if you were being honest - you hadn’t realized just how quickly the time had flown by... Well, when you know the Shelby family, it’s almost impossible for time to not fly by. You had gotten to know the Shelby family when Harry made you deliver 6 bottles of whiskey to their offices, a task you were afraid to take on, seeing as you were no stranger to the rumours about the Shelby family, and being new to Birmingham the last thing you wanted was trouble with the gangsters who have the city in the palm of their hands.

You had worn your plain brown cotton dress - the best item you could afford with the money you received from your job, and began your journey to the betting shop, trudging along the streets of Birmingham with the box of whiskey bottles. From that day on, Harry allowed you to serve the Shelby’s and you quickly got close to all of them, but one of them had completely stolen your heart - Tommy.

You’d never expected to fall for him, until you found yourself enamored by every word he’d say during family meetings, and lay in bed at night remembering every slight glance, or acknowledgement he’d given you. It was a stupid crush, and Tommy was quite a bit older than you and most likely saw you as nothing but a silly young girl, but when he started coming to the Garrison alone, eliciting your company to rant about his issues, or joke with you about how stupid Arthur was, he found himself falling in love with you too, your untouched innocence drastically standing out from the tainted souls of Birmingham, the way your eyes crinkled up when you’d smile, your London accent peeking through when you’d talk too quickly or how a cigarette looked almost like an expensive piece of jewelry between your fingers. So your love blossomed, and you became Thomas Shelby’s girl.

You had just delivered a bucket of beer to a table in the corner of the Garrison and were heading back to the bar, when all of a sudden you found yourself laying on the floor, the pain from your ankle hissing through your body

“Oh for fucks sake!” you exclaimed. Harry rushed over after seeing your condition - him having become an almost father like figure to you over the years.

“Are you alright Y/N?” he asked, concern beaming from his eyes

“I think I’ve sprained my bloody ankle or somethin’, it hurts like ‘ell”

Harry shook his head and offered to pick you up, you reached out to him and he took you to a taxi outside the Garrison

“Clyde, you’re gonna have to carry her up to her apartment” he said to the young taxi driver, who simply nodded in response

“You don’t need to come in, make sure you get your ankle fixed alright? Call a doctor or somethin’” 

“I will Harry, don’t worry ‘bout me, I’ll be back before you know it” you smiled at him, always being able to maintain your high spirits.

It had been two weeks since you’d been to work, your ankle was now in fairly good condition, however you still needed to be careful. Tommy had visited you almost every day, despite him being obviously tired, John had also visited a lot, always cracking jokes and making your tiny apartment smell like expensive cigars.

You’re wearing a green apron-style cotton dress with a white cardigan and some white flats - heels no longer a possible choice for the time being - your hair pinned back in a low bun, with a few loose strands at the front. You aren’t going into work today, you’re simply going to visit as you miss Harry and the bustle of the bar.

The bar isn’t as busy as usual as it’s only 2 PM. When you walk in you find Harry behind the bar, polishing some of the shot glasses, he beams when he sees you

“Y/N! I see your ankle is doing better”

“It is Harry, sadly I can’t work yet or Dr. Prew will kill me, but I’m just happy to leave my apartment for once! How have things been without me? Hope you’re not suffering too much eh?”

“Oh no no, thinks have been quite smooth with the new barmaid” he replied

“New barmaid?” you questioned

“Yeah, her name is Grace. Didn’t Tommy mention her? He’s been here almost everyday, she usually serves them and tends the bar”

“No... he never mentioned a new barmaid. Well, I’m happy you’ve had help while I’ve been gone, hopefully I’ll get to meet said Grace soon” 

You tried to sound enthusiastic, but not only were the thoughts of reasons as to why Tommy would refrain from telling you about your new colleague plaguing your mind, you also weren’t too happy about having to share the bar with someone else aside from Harry. You had gotten used to it and felt as though she might ruin your flow, and take away your usual tips.

Your deep thought is suddenly interrupted by the sound of the Garrison door slamming shut

“I’m back with the new glasses” A female voice exclaimed. You turned to the direction of the voice and felt your spirit bury itself six feet underground

Shit chapter but oh well... It’s 2 AM and I’m exhausted ❤

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

[hhjs]

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary  —   Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

 You accept it. 

 For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

 Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all. 

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour.  Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe.  While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him. 

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell. 

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

 Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose.  You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger  stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

 You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night.  See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart. 

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.”  he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

 “I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

 Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've  passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side. 

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous. 

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it. 

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say. 

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

— 

Kiss underneath a mistletoe. 

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right. 

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different.  Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

  Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

 He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

— 

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh.  Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

 Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you?  "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."  

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know.  Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

— 

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of  honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear,   "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

[greenygreenland]

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (Part Three)

-part three is here! I had to slice it in two because apparently there's a certain word block limit (at least on mobile). So get ready for part four!

Summary: You can’t remember anything.

Month four, 08:00

The last thing you recalled was the face of a boy with light hair. His eyes were bright, swirling with love and affection you looked for everyday. Whenever you woke up, you couldn’t remember his name, or his sweet voice that called out to you in your dreams.

All you had was the light of day and the rising sun. It made you sad to look upon it alone in your room. Someone else were supposed to be by your side, right next to you. But who?

And then there was the absence of a motherly figure--a woman you only recalled through song. How was it you remembered that melancholy tune but not a name or face? You wished you knew, and you prayed everyday to whoever was up there to give you another chance. Another go at life--with the people you never knew the names of.

“Good morning, Letha.”

You met the old man’s gaze with a simple nod. His crinkly voice was one of the things you actually didn’t mind, even if it was hard to hear at times. 

The old man, Alex, was kind, but the most you conversed about were your lost memories, your insane knacks for weapons, chess, and lastly, intelligence.

Time wasn’t friendly, and a month passed uneventfully. It turned into two, which turned into three and so on. Every now and then, you wondered if you’d stay like that: a blank slate. Alex said there was this one philosopher who called it a ‘tabula rasa’. For some reason, that fact reminded you of someone long ago.

Dark hair, the smell of old books, dust hidden between bookshelves...

You began to make out the image of a boy. He was no older than you, with cool eyes, a warm, yet small smile. Who was he? His name was at the tip of your tongue, yet it wouldn’t come out.

Ren? Reylo? Tired Cyclops? No, that wasn’t it. Obviously.

It hurt to think too much about it, and before you could grasp onto it, the memory faded, along with the name.

“Don’t think too hard,” Alex warmly said. “I’m sure it’ll come with time.”

He hoped to help you recover your lost memories, but in the meantime, he’d do his best to support you, just as he’d done with his long, dead daughter. For that reason, he felt it was time to bring you to the world outside. In this town you both resided in, everyone died in a war.

Alex was the only survivor.

For that reason, he was the only person you ever got to know these past seven months. There was no one your age around here, and it wasn’t like you went far anyway. Every now and then, Alex brought you a few towns over to experience a nice train ride to his favourite shops. Then he’d buy you something and take pictures.

But now? He felt it was time to take it a step further. He wasn’t sure if you’d like the idea, but it was worth a try.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER, 06:28

“Come again?” you inquired. Alex took a sip of his coffee and stood from the chair. The wooden floorboards of the cabin creaked under his weight. He waddled over to the window, drawing open the plaid curtains. Warm rays of sunlight fluttered upon your face and Alex smiled warmly like he always did.

“It’s time you get out more,” he said, “and experience the world outside this old town. I want you to look across the horizon because there’s more than the cabin.” You knitted your brows together. You didn’t like how cryptic he was being. It reminded you of someone you once knew, someone who you held close to your heart.

“Gramps, what are you trying to say?”

Alex heaved in a long breath, as if he were afraid of saying it himself. “I want you to go to school. College, if you want the specifics.” Your eyes doubled in size and you hoped, prayed, that he would take it back and say it was a joke. College? You didn’t need a degree! And besides, it was expensive. You couldn’t afford something like that. But alas, Alex wasn’t one to joke about serious things like that. He was an old man, so he always meant what he said.

This time was no different.

“You mean it,” you practically whispered. “That you want me to go to college.” Alex nodded, absentmindedly running a hand through his thick, white beard. There was a long pause and you took the time to sip your tea. Would school benefit you in some way? Was it worth the time? The work?

It didn’t make sense. You were smart. Alex said it himself: “I haven’t met anyone as smart as you”. So why did he want to send you to school? It had to be more than just to “meet people” because you did that all the time on the train every few days.

“What’s so good about college, Gramps? We can’t afford to pay for something so expensive. I don’t want to see you in debt just because of me.”

Through your calm façade, Alex noticed the spark of uncertainty in your eyes. Throughout the long days he got to know you, he realised one thing: you were never keen on showing your emotions.

“I want to give you an opportunity to find yourself,” he finally replied. “If the people you knew are around your age, then going to school might bring something back. You know, jog your memories. Besides that, I want you to have a life more than that I can offer. There’s nothing in this small town.”

“I don’t know about that. I have you here. You’re all I know, Gramps.”

Alex knitted his bushy brows together. “I know, but I can’t always be the only one you know. Don’t you want to see the world?”

It wasn’t that going to college was excruciatingly disappointing, only that it was a means of giving out false hope. How could you cling onto something so child-like and unreliable? 

Hope could only get people so far. You were no different.

That night, you lay in bed, wide awake. A nagging thought kept pulling at the back of your mind, repeating itself over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t stand the phrase. But as soon as you repeated it with your own lips, it vanished as if it never existed.

You lay in bed for a little longer, fighting the lull of sleep. It pulled on your eyes, and your head nodded as you forced down a yawn. Sleep was for the weak. If you stayed awake a little longer, maybe you might remember something, right?

-----

The grass tickled your bare feet. If it were any normal day, you would have liked to lay down in its warm embrace with Emma, Ray and Norman. You could watch the clouds together, and wonder about life outside these concrete walls.

But that was stupid to think about, wasn’t it? The liberty to relax and do absolutely nothing had been striped from your very being, like the air that you gasped and chocked on. You held your shoes tightly to your chest and frantically glanced past your shoulder. Good. All clear, just how you liked it.

Norman and Emma lay a couple hundred meters behind. They were your eyes, the two little owls that perched high above with all-seeing eyes. With a grunt, you hopped over a thick tree root and tossed aside your shoes. They landed somewhere in the brush, right where the trees parted.

You came to a stop and glared at the concrete wall towering over you. If you completed your mission and everything remained as straight-forward as you wanted it to be, then you’d escape with everyone. Just like Emma wanted. Just like you tried so hard to believe.

But what if something happened? What if Don and Gilda were caught? Or worse, what if Mama suspected that Ray betrayed her? Surely she wouldn’t go as far as to eliminate him on the spot...

...right?

You clenched a fist so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Stop. Stop it, you told yourself. You had to have faith in your family. They were just as capable as you, maybe even more, so they’d have no issues. You had to focus on your job so they could do theirs.

“My, so this is where you’ve run to?”

You sucked in a sharp breath.

No, that couldn’t be. You made sure she wouldn’t know where you were. You told all the precautions, too. Were Emma and Norman okay? What about Ray? And Don and Gilda?

“I’m surprised you managed to make this far.” Mama stiffly said. “You never were as strong as Emma, or fast either.”

It was like the sun stopped shining. Your blood ran cold. The warm rays turned to ice.

“It’s not too late to turn back (Y/n).” Her voice was silky smooth, tempting almost, as if she were coaxing a frightened sheep to the slaughter. “You’ve improved, my dear, but is it enough? Once your plan crumbles, what will you do then? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama. It’s the reliable path. You will survive and you will be happy.”

For a moment, you wondered if she actually cared about you. Maybe her love was all fake from the beginning and she didn’t care about you. Or your family. Or anything but survival in this cruel world.

You never loved us.

That was what you wanted to say, yet the words stuck in your throat like glue. If she didn’t love you, then why did she hold you so tightly when you had a nightmare? If she didn’t love you, then why did her eyes shine with pride when you got perfect scores?

“Come, my dear,” Mama coaxed. “Let’s go home.”

The sudden urge to laugh bubbled in your throat like lava.

Home? This was a prison in disguise.

It’s not too late to turn back? A lie.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama? As if.

You couldn’t afford to betray your family. Not after all you’ve done, and not after all the effort. They relied on you. You weren’t going to let them down.

You turned on your heel to face Mama. She smiled at you, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It made your stomach twist and turn, reminded you just how much of a danger she could be. Your gaze focused past her shoulder, where a familiar head of orange stood.

Emma peeked out from behind the trees and held up the bag of rope. Norman stood from a cluster of bushes and motioned the the wall. They were going to climb it while you distracted Mama. Perfect.

A bright grin broke out onto your lips. “I’m sorry Mama.” you began.

She stood like a statue with wide eyes. “Are you now?” she inquired. You were finally conceding in this fiery war of wits. After all that fuss and now would she have you back by her side? She opened her arms to welcome you. It was all she could do with her prized little girl. Finally you were being smart. Finally you were choosing the reliable path. You were going to follow in her footsteps. Survive. And outlive everyone in this house like she had.

But then something happened. Emma burst from the bushes, followed by Norman who helped throw the rope up a nearby branch. That triggered you into action, and you lunged at Mama with all the strength you could muster.

“I will never--!”

You wrestled for her watch.

“--ever--!”

Mama tugged on your little arms.

“--leave my family behind!”

You yanked the stupid watch out of her hands, but just as you stood, Mama grasped onto your leg and tugged. Hard. She gave it a squeeze, and a sickening crack echoed in your ears. You screamed. Your ears rung and you heaved in a strangled breath.

“You should have taken the reliable path.” Mama’s calm voice made you want to vomit. “None of us would be here if you had listened to your mama.”

-----

Your eyes shot open and you jolted awake. The faces, the voices, the senses--they flashed before you in a whirl of colours and sounds. Why couldn’t you recall who they were? Or what their names were? You knew every single one of them by heart, yet your mind lay completely blank. Again.

The urge to punch your mattress overwhelmed your senses.

“Good morning,” came Alex’s crinkly voice. That snapped you out of your frustrated stupor. He stood in the doorway, a warm smile on his lips and a spatula in hand. “Pancakes are almost done. Today we’ll get you settled in your dorm.”

Oh. Right. Gramps was sending you to a boarding school. The thought of leaving your beloved bed left you queasy and sluggish. Why should you go somewhere so far away from this cozy, little cottage? It was only recently that you settled here too. Maybe Gramps was taking it too fast.

With a heavy heart, you lugged yourself out of bed and threw on a pair of warm clothes. The unforgiving climate of this land was not one you would challenge. Ever.

The moment you emerged from your room was the moment you understood Gramps’s insistence. He meant well, you knew, but in a way you didn’t appreciate. Going out gave you a higher chance of meeting whomever you knew. It was completely logical.

“Are you worried?” Gramps began, placing a stack of pancakes on your plate. “I’ve already informed your school teachers of your amnesia, so they’ll understand. As for your dormitory, everything has been set. And don’t forget your breakfast, lunch, and dinner plans, as well as your--”

“You seem more anxious than me, Gramps.” you said with a subtle smile. He stared at you, wide-eyed until he mirrored you with a chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. I just want to make sure the transition goes smoothly.”

“Of course.”

“And that you’re safe and okay.”

“Gramps--”

“And that you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“--the pancake’s burning.”

That set him off. He jolted out of his chair faster than his age and capabilities should have allowed. It was a miracle too, because the poor pancake was seconds away from catching fire on the pan. A long sigh left Gramps’s lips as he turned off the stove. “I think I’ll give this to the birds.”

“You best do that, because I won’t eat that piece of charcoal.”

You shared a quick chuckle between each other, savouring the warmth and comfort that came. If someone else had found you that day in the field of endless grass, you weren’t sure if you’d be so lucky. It was by chance Gramps was the one to discover you, so you couldn’t imagine life otherwise.

Once your pancakes were gone and your bag all packed, you traveled to the train station in the early rays of sun. Gramps was the type of enjoy the silence of nature, but to you, it was excruciating.

It didn’t matter where you went. Each time, you looked past your shoulder, to the fading mountains, to the little rabbits that scurried by. It was like you were on survival mode. But why should you be when there was nothing out here? It was so peaceful, so wonderful that you couldn’t imagine anything coming out to get you.

Smile. It’s okay, I promise. I’m here.

You froze and glanced past your shoulder towards the rolling hills and the fading grass. That voice--you knew it. But had you dreamed it up? There was no one here but you and Gramps. A short sigh left your lips and all Gramps could do was ruffle your hair comfortingly.

The train ride was nice. With the calm chugging and the way it swayed, you didn’t mind it at all. Every now and then, your eyes fluttered open and closed. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you weren’t a morning person. Whatever the reason, you submitted to the lull and closed your eyes.

-----

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?”

You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die.

Die.

Die.

Die.

He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try.  Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together? “Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. The forced smile the sprouted on his lips looked painful. Don’t struggle, it said.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off ground. Your leg hit her arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma remained frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.” Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but with the warm smile on your face, she couldn’t gather the courage to. Instead, she settled for a tight hug.

It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

Gentle smiles. A warm summer breeze. Soft kisses. Tender touches. That was what reminded you of the boy in your dreams. Although you couldn’t recall his face every time you awoke, you remembered the fact that he was handsome and kind.

Gramps offered a warm smile. “Good morning.” You covered your yawn with a hand. “I’m assuming we’re here?”

He nodded. “Are you excited?” It was obvious Gramps knew the question. He only wanted to hear the answer from your mouth rather than from an assumption. As much as you wished to be excited for such a grand opportunity, you weren’t sure you’d like school. Well, how could you guess when you’ve never been to school in the first place?

At least from what you could recall.

“I still don’t know how to feel about this,” you quietly say. Gramps guides you along the walkway and out of the train, where you step out of the station and to the bustling streets of the city. You frown. Gramps said you were going to a boarding school, was it supposed to be somewhere as crowded as here?

From what you read, boarding schools needed large spaces to accommodate dormitories, classrooms, and sports fields. Was there such a thing as space in this congested collection of skyscrapers?

You shook your head to yourself and followed Gramps down whatever path his old-fashioned map led him to. He walked slow. Too slow for your liking. Not only that, but with all the people around, you couldn’t bear not to stick close to his side. What if he got lost? What if you got lost? Or kidnapped and sold on the black market for organs?

Maybe you were just paranoid.

The looming skyscrapers offered no comfort, and the cool breezes that sent shivers down your spine weren’t helping either. You hopped over a patch of ice and pulled your jacket closer just as Gramps came to a stop.

A lot of land stood in the middle of all the skyscrapers, where a pale field of grass stretched out over the acres of land. Buildings that looked like castles peppered themselves out in the form of classrooms, mess halls, and corridors.

You stood in the shadow of the tall brick walls. It separated the school from the rest of the city. An overwhelming feeling of bittersweet hope filled your system, as if you’ve stood in front of a wall like this before. Had you been here? No. You were sure this was your first time seeing the school.

“Take care Letha.” Gramps said. “Don’t forget to eat and exercise, as well as make some new friends. I expect you to call at least once a week, just so I know you’re doing fine.” You smiled a little, cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Gramps, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“I know, I know. Just...this is a big step for you.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Be careful, and have fun. Even if you don’t remember anything, as long as you have fun, it’s fine.” He wrapped you in a tight hug. “And most importantly, I love you Letha.”

You basked in the warmth of his arms. You didn’t need to worry about your memories in that moment because you had Gramps. He was your world. Your family. What more could you ask for? But then he pulled away, and the warmth didn’t linger.

You were still incomplete.

The next day, you found yourself wandering the halls aimlessly, picking apart each detail and escape route in sight. The hall to your left had an exit to the school courtyard, a peaceful place with metal chairs and picnic tables. To your right sat another hall, which also had an exit to another courtyard. Then in front of you stood the front entrance, where the side exits fanned out in the halls next to it.

“Hey, you’re the new girl, right? Letha Meek-aye...Mikhaylov?”

You spun around faster than the speed of light. In front of you stood a girl, perhaps a year older with an unfriendly frown. She wore the generic school uniform: black skirt, long socks, white blouse, gray sweater vest, and a tie. Her bright, red locks stood out like a sore thumb. They curled past her shoulders in beach waves, framing her narrow, freckled face in rouge.

For a moment, you blanked out. When was the last time you spoke to someone, much less a teenager your age? Even though this girl wasn’t intimidating, it wasn’t like you wanted to talk to her. The point of coming here was to figure out if anything jogged your memory and then leave. It wasn’t playtime. “I’m new.” Your voice came out calmer than you felt. “Is that an issue?”

Despite the pointed look on her face, you had a feeling she was one of the nicer people in the area. She had a soft look in her green eyes, as if she understood what it felt like to be a new kid. “I’m Flanna Morris,” she said with a small smile. “Nice to meet you Letha.”

Flanna had an accent. By the hard ‘r’s and the elongated ‘oo’ sounds, you guessed she had to be from Ireland. Gramps told you it wasn’t too far from here, but still a while away.

You sent Flanna a cautious side eye. She was being too friendly. “Yeah, nice to meet you too...Flanna.” A hearty laugh that bellowed in her stomach echoed in the quiet corridors. “Look,” she said, “I’m not here to bully you. I just wanted to offer some help.”

Help? Yeah right. No one in this world offered help without asking for something in return. Besides Gramps maybe--but he was a special case, it didn’t count.

“Come on, I’ll show you around Letha.” The look on Flanna’s sweet face made it hard to decline. If you weren’t interested in seeing if there were any places you missed, then you would have declined. But perhaps Flanna could show you more than the shallow surface of this boarding school.

You passed to through the quiet corridors, where the sun shone through the windows overlooking the street. The sun rose over the horizon and up the edge of the skyscrapers’ base. Cars bustled about, and even through the thick brick walls, you heard all the honking and yelling of the early morning traffic.

“So, where’re you from?” Flanna inquired. You tugged on the strap of your bag’s shoulder strap. “Far away.”

“What do you mean by ‘far away’?”

“I mean the countryside.” you clarified. Flanna ‘ohhh’ed. “The city must be a huge change for you then, I know it was for me.” You knitted your brows together. So she was from the countryside in Ireland? That’s more than a simple change of scenery. No wonder Flanna wanted to help you.

“Okay, so here’s the science hall. Ms. Darsey is one of the best teachers you can have around. You’re a juniour, right? I’m a senior--if you couldn’t already tell...”

Flanna talked a lot. No, she didn’t just love talking, she loved explaining all her experiences with x, y, and z teacher, as well as what classroom and what day of the month it was. She had a wonderful memory, you had to admit, but that made her stories long. Her energy was like a breath of fresh air, and that red hair of hers sparkled like jewels in the morning light.

Flanna’s hair was fiery just like a girl’s you used to know. Her face wasn’t clear in your mind whenever you thought of her, but the joy she always brought you stayed. It made your heart warm. Flanna seemed to have a similar effect, but not as strongly as the girl you once knew.

“You have Mr. Dursley for English,” she noted. “Make sure you don’t stick out. He’s a big pain and if you’re late, he’ll give you a detention.” You raised a brow. Mr. Dursley detained teenagers for being late? What kind of nonsense was that? You decided to phone Gramps later and ask him if that were true. He’d know. Hopefully.

The look on your face made Flanna chuckle, but you had a feeling she didn’t understand your thought process. “Don’t worry,” she casually said. “You’ll be fine. I bet’cha Connor and James will be the first to get a detention. They’re both trouble makers--little devils. Especially James.” You stared up at Flanna’s bright, green eyes. They sparkled like the sun against her hair. You’ve seen that look before, the one of unsaid love and adoration. Long ago, someone looked at you like that.

But who?

You wracked your brain for answers. It was on the tip of the tongue. Right there--just in front of you. Yet it was as if something were preventing you from seeing the truth. The one postulate you knew stuck throughout the days you’ve forgotten who you once were.

Backtrack. Backtrack.

A boy. Light hair. Soft eyes. Kind smile. A laugh that was like music. And the calling of your name.

“(Y--n)!”

Yes, that was the sound of his voice, right? Or maybe it was a stranger’s instead, someone’s you’ve heard on the street. Then whose name was that? Was it even a name to begin with? Maybe it was a word instead and you misheard it as a name. That thought made your heart throb in the worst way possible. Ice filled your veins, and you found yourself pausing to stare out the crystal, clear windows.

“Something wrong?” Flanna inquired. You blinked away the haze and turned to her with a shake of your head. “Just nervous.” A bright smile burst onto Flanna’s lips. “Ah, I see. No worries, you’ll do great. And if you don’t it’s your first day, right? Nothin’ wrong with messin’ up a little.”

You wished you could believe Flanna, but something deep in your heart said otherwise. A slip-up could cost someone more than their reputation. Possibly their life. You couldn’t speak from experience, but you were sure you’d seen a sacrifice. Long ago. Far away in the distance.

Flanna stopped in front of your first period class. “We still have about fifteen minutes before school starts. Everyone’s probably in the cafeteria eating breakfast or fooling around in the field. I recommend you come early to class so you don’t get caught up in the crowd.” And with that, she waved, turning on her heel to hurry away. “I’ll see you during lunch! We have it together, so I’ll come find you in the cafe!”

She rounded a sharp corner and disappeared, leaving you alone in the quiet hall. You peeked in through the open door. At a long desk sat a teacher, who stood at the notice of your presence. She wore thin glasses on her old squarish face, a white blouse with a tie, a woolen navy blazer, and black trousers with heels to match.

The teacher had a kind face, with eyes that were soft with years of wear and tear. The smile on her lips said it all--she had seen things. Many things. “Welcome, I assume you’re Letha Mikhaylov?” She had a crinkle in her voice like the edges of her eyes when she smiled. It complimented her kindly face.

“Yes.” you replied. “That’s me.”

“Well I’m Mrs. Walker.” She motioned for you to come in, that sweet smile still on her lips. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve been informed that you have amnesia. May I ask how much you remember?” You folded your hands together. It was the least you could do to look less nervous.

“I remember skills, knowledge, and the arts. I do not recall my original name or what my life was like before, but I am still highly-functional. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Walker. ”

The way you worded your sentences was off-putting to the teacher. It wasn’t normal for high school students to be so in-line, much less well-off with their manners.

From the report she read, you were taken in by Alex Mikhaylov, a writer who lived in an old, deserted town. He claimed he’d been trying to help you re-gain your memories for nearly a year, but from the looks of it, there wasn’t much to go off of.

Mrs. Walker took a seat at her neat desk. A pencil sharpener sat at the corner along with a tissue box, stapler, tape dispenser, and a plastic name plaque. In bolded letters it said, Mrs. Walker. Of course, in cursive. A few photos were cramped by her computer, where she stood there, smiling with a young girl and a man. Mrs. Walker looked to be around twenty-eight to thirty in that photo.

You stood by her desk awkwardly. Were you supposed to sit in the back? Near the window? Or in the front? The sinking feeling of unfamiliarity plagued your mind as you ran a hand through your locks.

There weren’t any other students here besides you.

“You may take a seat wherever you’d like Letha,” Mrs. Walker said. “I do not assign seats in this class, but if there is an issue, I can if you’d like. Is there anything I should know about you?” You shook your head and took a seat by the window. The football fields, frost-bitten and white, stretched out as far as the eye could see. A little to the left of that were the dormitories. Red brick walls and sparkling clean window panes, just like every other building at the school.

Winter was a wonderful season, but you wished it weren’t so cold all the time. Maybe if there were a bit of snow, it would cheer you up, jog your memory even. “I’m not sure if I have anything of importance.” Your voice echoed in the deserted classroom like a bell. “But I hope I can do my best.”

A smile broke out onto Mrs. Walker’s lips. “Don’t hope, do.”

And so you did. You vowed to do what you could with whatever you could. You weren’t going to hope to do your best, or hope to find your memories because you would. They’d come back to you, and you were going to do everything in your power to get them back.

PART FOUR COMING SOON [GIVE ME LIKE THREE DAYS TO ADD A BONUS PORTION BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS] -->UPDATE: PART FOUR HERE <--

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 4

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Cursing, Mentions of death (bounty hunting), mentions of drinking to be done in the next chapter, reluctant pining

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        Maul had stayed in the cockpit much longer than it was necessary, allowing autopilot to guide the Wolf through hyperspace. He was silently obsessing why you had felt the need to call another hunter; another Alpha. He couldn’t explain to himself or anyone else who would be stupid enough to ask why this upset him so much. He remembered what Zeni and Coth had said; Bane got you into the guild and the both of you had traveled around together for a bit over a year, long after your membership had been established with the house. He had been told that you were unmated but he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if a close comradery was all you had shared with the Duro. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

    He eventually left the cockpit when he smelled something in your pheromones change, not being able to place it exactly, he ventured out. When he found you, he almost smirked at the sight before him. One he hadn’t ever seen before. The mighty lone Omega had buried herself completely in his sofa bed under the blanket she had lent him. Every few seconds her hand would dart out to snatch a piece of jerky from a plate on the nearby table and pull it under the blanket.  

    He slowly approached; mind set on taking some of the food for himself but he stopped in his tracks when a low growl rumbled out from the mess of fabric. He took a step back until it subsided. Warily he took another step forward and outstretched his hand earning a second growl that he was sure humans wouldn’t normally be able to make.

    He had become familiar with some of the cultural dynamics of the cross subspecies but as for the specific habits and instincts, he was uneducated to say the least. Equally confused as he was humored, he took another step back, gauging the perimeter around you that you suddenly required. He finally decided what the smell you were giving off was; aggression. But not outwardly so, a defensive aggression. One that said back the fuck up, so he did; not without poking the proverbial bear though.

“I understand that this is your ship, and everything in it belongs to you. However,” he watched as you peered out from your wrap, “we have six hours before we reach Hoth and I would like to rest.” He didn’t really need to. He had and could again go, days without sleep. However, he was not one to avoid getting under someone’s skin when the opportunity presented itself.

    You eyed him carefully with your eyes narrowed. Finally, ‘the bitch’ gave up for a moment so that you could understand his reasoning. With a huff, you stood with his blanket still wrapped around you and grumbled nonsense under your breath until you reached the door to your room. You glanced over your shoulder just long enough to catch his confused gaze before you turned and entered your sanctuary. Ignoring how he sniffed the air in the path you had just walked. You locked your door and turned on the incredibly dim colorful lights and pressed a remote that played soft music. You continued to grumble about stupid inconsistent cycles. It wasn’t a full-on heat like you normally experienced, more like a nagging annoyance in the back of your mind, dulled needles underneath your skin.

    After trying several different placements for the blanket saturated in his scent you finally found one that ‘the bitch’ was satisfied with. Clamoring into your vast array of blankets, pillows and other various soft things you settled in its center and closed your eyes; preparing for the tremors that you were convinced would come. Just as you got comfortable, your vambrace started beeping and an obscenely offensive red light blinked in time with the wretched noise. Growling audibly, you reached for your table and strapped it on to your wrist, violently pressing the answer button.

“Fucking. What?” your teeth clenched so hard they could crack.

“Last I recall you’re the one who wanted to talk. Had a question or something,” the Duro’s head lit up in that blue only holo-comms could emanate. You pinched the bridge of your nose and scrunched your eyes shut apologetically.

“Sorry. Yeah, yeah I do,” you opened your eyes slowly and looked at him, almost hoping he could just pry the information out of your head so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

“Well, you gonna ask or what ‘Meg?” he folded his arms across his chest already tired.

“So, I’m sponsoring an Alpha who didn’t know what he was until a few months ago…” you started, hoping that either Zeni or Coth had filled him in in the few days that you’d been gone.

“Heard something about that. I know the guy, did a job with him back before I picked you up. Something about a captured Jedi he wanted to hunt. Didn’t talk much.” Your eyes widened at the new information. “You haven’t told anyone about that bit, have you?”

“The fuck do I look like kid?” he was almost offended at the implication that his lips even held the ability to flap. Even if they could they wouldn’t. The sigh that escaped you was exasperated in your relief.

“So, what about him. Is he fucking with you?” his eyes narrowed further and the last word came out as a protective growl.

“No, no he’s fine but I’m not.”

“’Meg if you don’t start speaking plainly, I swear to Maker I’ll find and kill you both.”

“He smells…. Different. Intense. More so than any other Alpha I’ve ever come into contact with,” you chuckled, “even more than Fett.” His eyes widened and he thought for a moment before responding.

“When was your last cycle? Has he triggered another one?”

“I mean maybe a week or so ago? I wouldn’t call it a new one, feels different. Lighter? ‘The Bitch’ is talking more in my ear and I’m starving. Like, fucking famished.” He nodded with his fingers on his chin looking off to the side.

“Where are you right now and where is he?”

“On the way to Hoth.”

“No, I mean on the ship. Where are the both of you?”

“Oh, I’m in my room; doors locked. He’s in the common,” you glanced at the door like it was possible he could’ve manifested on your side of the durasteel door. The force could do some crazy shit but teleportation wasn’t on the list as far as you knew. Even for a Sith.

“Good. You’re not gonna like the answer ‘Meg. Don’t shoot the messenger,” your eyes snapped back to his projection, waiting for him to continue.

“Someone always smells best, stronger. Mine did, Coth and Zeni got that. Not everyone gets it or waits long enough to find it but I’d put five quarries’ credits worth on the fact that that guys’ your Alpha.”

“W-what? No, that story’s bullshit. That’s not real, is it?” He growled slightly angrily in his response.

“I said.. I fucking had it. It’s why I can’t ever have another. Don’t doubt anything cause you’ve never known it before. Like me saying your Jedi force shits fake. Ignorance I can handle ‘Meg; arrogance I won’t put up with.”

    You couldn’t respond. This is not what was supposed to happen. You were going to live your life as the lone Omega, ‘Meg the hunter. Live your life in solitude only occasionally coming to the surface to socialize with your pack members to stave off the inevitable loneliness.

“Sorry, no you’re right. I just, don’t want that? I guess, you just shocked me was all. I didn’t mean to offend you or your Omega.”

He visibly relaxed and sighed as he rubbed his head under his hat.

“Do what you gotta do. Whether that means scenting him, mating, kicking him out now, or waiting till you finish what you started with him. You don’t need to explain yourself. But that’s my best guess to your question kid.” You nodded and stared off for a moment away from the door. You thanked your old friend for his time and his insight before hanging up and rolling over and failing to find rest as the tremors started.

      Maul truly had no clue what had crawled into your skin and possessed you. He wondered for a moment if some cousin to Dathomirian magick had made its way into the ship before shaking his head. That would be ridiculous. He had grabbed another of the no less than what guessed were a thousand blankets from the shelf and laid back. He didn’t really try to eavesdrop but when he recognized the voice that was speaking to you, he bristled. He only caught a few words while he passed, faking a trip to the fresher should you be able to feel him through the force. On his way there he realized that you were in fact as affected by his scent as he was yours and that it wasn’t necessarily normal.  On his way back he couldn’t hear your words but it sounded like you had received some information that you really didn’t want to hear.

    The pheromones that you gave off were those of fear mixed with frustration and anger. He wondered how long you would’ve lasted as a Jedi if they hadn’t thrown you out. Despite his bitterness the overwhelming urge to comfort you assaulted his every sense. He pushed it down with a snarl at himself before stalking back to the cockpit trying to put some distance between the heady smells.

    He must have watched you eat at least three pounds of the dried meat hastily while gearing up to venture out onto the frozen wasteland. A small part of him wanted to ask what all this was about with you but the larger part of him knew it wasn’t his business unless you made it his business. He settled for simply asking if you were alright. You threw a sarcastic ‘perfect’ over your shoulder before throwing yourself out into the blizzard.

    You had yet again, not permitted him to bring his saber. Jabba usually wanted a head over a warm body but bodies couldn’t pay their debts, and this particular Talz owed him big. He had thought it worth the expense to make an example himself out of this smuggler. Maul was just as frustrated as he had been last time but was silent about it, much to your personal relief. You were in no mood for argument and he no doubt could sense it.

    He had landed the ship just outside a large cavern, the tracking fob blinked rapidly, signaling that the one you sought was close by. As you entered the cave you had expected to run into a Wampa or two. Bones of different creatures varying in size had alluded to it being home to one of the creatures. What you had not expected was to walk right into an onslaught of blaster fire.

    Maul had force pushed you roughly to the ground a couple meters away from your position; landing you behind a large enough boulder for you to take cover behind. Cautiously, you looked to the side through the bolts to find him taking refuge along the wall behind stone that jut out from the wall with his blaster pointing to the circling, looking to you for approval.

    You took a flash grenade out of your utility belt, hit the countdown button and tossed it; taking cover before the blinding light filled the cavern. It must have been cheaper to hire guns than pay Jabba, six humans doubled over covering their faces allowing you to take a few shots. After putting down three yourself fairly quickly you looked over at your companion again. He was firing alright but not hitting a damn thing.

“I thought you said you were ‘quite familiar with other forms of weaponry!’” you shouted over the returned fire in a slightly mocking tone.

    His response was only to look at you with wild, angry eyes that made you double over laughing in the thick of the standoff. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You raised your blaster and took out two more, leaving one man and your quarry. You turned to face Maul and crossed your arms in your seated position behind the boulder smiling toothily at him, nodding your head to the last man.

    It took him a few shots but he managed to hit the hired gun square in his chest. You missed the glint in his eye but felt his pride through the force before he covered it again and chuckled to yourself once more. You could see the Talz shaking as he raised his blaster in his trembling hand as he slowly backed up. You pulled out your blow gun and loaded one of your tranquilizer darts. The long needle glinted ominously in the low light of the cavern, Maul watched as you took a deep breath and bring the long tube up to your mouth and wrap your lips around it. The dart flew with a short huff of breath as the Talz turned to run; striking him directly in his spine.

    The toxin took hold before the quarry could take another step, dropping to the floor with a thud and a grunt. You stood from your position and made your way over to the first of the dead body guards. Maul went to bind and secure the smuggler while you scoffed at the small number of credits you pulled from the dead’s pockets. They really didn’t get paid shit, and they died for it. You almost felt bad for them; now wasn’t the time to get soft though. They took the job and they paid the price for it, just like you risked each and every job you took. No different from the rest of the pack.

    You handed Maul half of the measly amount and one of the better blasters that one of the men carried. He hoisted the Talz onto his back and raised his brow at you before taking what you had offered.

“I told you half of what we make is yours. This falls under that category despite the fact that it’s not technically a bounty prize, I don’t go back on my word once I give it.”

    He nodded his head in thanks and followed you back to the ship. Once the smuggler was frozen in the carbonate, you led him back to the cave. He watched as you dragged the bodies of the fallen gunmen to various positions and distances. You made your way back to him and when he opened his mouth to speak you raised your hand to cut him off.

“That was a fucking atrocious display if I’m being honest. Mildly disappointing if I’m being kind,” he snapped his mouth shut with a quiet clink of his teeth. “You can’t bring your saber to the higher paying jobs, as I’ve said, too many witnesses. Do you want to pick off the bottom of the barrel, cheap thieves for your career?” he crossed his arms and glowered at you.

“No, but what would it matter if I only go after those who are wanted dead?” you jut out your hip and rested your hand on it while rolling your eyes.

“You allow yourself to wield a crutch. What if you’re attacked in public? The longer you play the game the more likely it is to happen. You going to flash your pretty red blade and take out an entire town to maintain secrecy or are you going to be smart about it?”

    He growled at your logic and took out the blaster you had plucked off of the corpse. You watched him take a few rushed shots before snarling to himself at all of his misses. You silently walked over to him and kicked the insides of his ankles lightly to widen his stance and kicked one of his heels to push it forward a few inches. He allowed you to but not without a glare. You pulled out your own blaster and demonstrated how with your dominant hand you gripped it tightly, pointer finger lined up with the barrel. With your other hand you held your palm to the bottom of the grip and wrapped your fingers around both it, and your other hand to stabilize it; bending your elbows slightly and raising the sights to your eyes.

    He followed your movements with the accuracy of a mirror. You didn’t speak until you saw him close one eye to aim, “both eyes open, its more accurate,” you demonstrated again and fired your blaster a single time, hitting the furthest target square between his eyes.

    In only three shots, Maul had hit two targets square in the chest, knocking them over. You backed up and watched him practice. It was slow going but after resituating the corpses he knocked over multiple times he had started to get consistent hits on them. When you were satisfied with his progress you lifted a head sized rock with the force and moved it side to side a decent distance in front of him. Moving targets were always a different game compared to stationary ones and the victorious glint in his eyes when he landed a single shot took you back a few years to when Bane was teaching you to shoot.

    The twin suns were beating down on you harshly in the desert that stretched out as far as you could see in any direction. The sand here was what water is to the ocean, swallowing up everything in its path. The durasteel of the ship was growing hotter and hotter by the minute under your belly and you could hear Bane curse under his breath. You didn’t have to see him on the ground below you to know his eyes were pointed in the same direction as yours, the massive skeleton of a creature you couldn’t name even if you tried. Hopefully they were extinct or at least, nowhere in the area. It lay against the horizon three hundred meters away, unscathed by your attempted blasts.

“Bane, it’s really hot up here. Can’t I come down and try again tonight?”

“Hell no, next job ‘m gonna need you to cover me from ‘nother building ‘Meg. Either you’ll hit the target or melt onto my ship tryin. Focus, the scope is doin all the hard work for you. Breath like those Jedi taught you over so many years. Take the shot when you let your breath out. Closest thing I ever come to meditation is behind the scope and you’ll do the same now until you make your mark.”

    You had taken his suggestion to heart and waited before your next shot, breathing deeply and slowly. Sweat pooled on your forehead before gathering enough to drip down your face and streaming between your breasts as the minutes ticked by. Bane was silent as you focused your shot. With one last deep breath you slowly let the air out of your lungs and squeezed the trigger. You looked through the scope again and saw that you had indeed scorched the beast just below its eye socket like you had been instructed to do. You leapt to your feet and whooped unceremoniously in your gleeful victory. You cast a prideful look down at Bane who never turned to look at you.

“You can come down after you do it five more times.”

    Your shoulders sagged and you audibly groaned, the skin on your belly getting ready to blister from the hot hull of the ship. You could have sworn at the time you had heard your literal and figurative cold blooded companion chuckle.

      You smiled at the memory as you now spoke the words of your mentor to an all too full of himself Zabrak after he hit the floating rock a single time. “We can warm up in the ship after you hit it five more times handsome.” Just as yours had, his shoulders visibly dropped but he said nothing and carried on his target practice.

    When he had accomplished the goal you laid out for him you had reached your limit in the frigid environment. When you left the cavern, the air whipped around you violently while a vicious flurry burned the exposed skin of your face. Snow had piled up even deeper around you and a thick white blanket shielded your view. You hit a button on your vambrace to open the hatch that both you and the Zabrak scurried inside. You shivered wildly as you stripped out of your already soaked outer layers. Blizzards always caught you off guard on Hoth, you hated the planet for a plethora of reasons and would take a planet like Tatooine over this frozen wasteland any day if you had the choice.

    By Maul’s body language you assessed that he would as well. His jaw was clenched yet his body still shook of its own accord from the cold. You set a pot on your stove, readying it to brew life-saving hot caf. While the water boiled you had taken first dibs in the sanistream. Under the hot water you thanked whatever gods were responsible for staving off whatever kind of ‘light heat’ you had experienced. Maul barley waited for you to fully exit the fresher before he was stripping off his tunic an indulging himself in the shower just as you had. You bit back a chuckle while you made your way to the cock pit with steaming caf in hand. You watched the blizzard from the safety and heat provided by the combination of durasteel and trans-durasteel walls of the Wolf, allowing your mind to wander.

    You had never really been a caf drinker when you were a Jedi. Your master couldn’t drink it and most of the others you surrounded yourself with looked down on the drink despite filling themselves with various teas like your old friend. You had always teased Obi Wan for loving the sugary flowery varieties over any else. Like with many other things it was Bane who introduced you to the dark ‘life sustainer’ as he called it. He laughed at how you scrunched your face up the first few times you drank it but after thirty-three hours awake steaking out a quarry you needed the boost to function.

    Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you downed the last of your cup and you sighed at the chore of walking the six meters to the kitchen to pour yourself another cup. Like he could read your mind, and he probably could, Maul’s hand extended from behind you and took your mug. He returned a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand, and took his seat in the co-pilot’s chair. The two of you continued to watch the snow storm in a comfortable silence.

    The quiet was broken by an incoming holo-comm. You always found the beeping to be unnecessarily jarring when the air was still. Maul simply leaned back in his seat while you answered it, the top half of your favorite Mandalorian appearing in the familiar blue hue, you grinned cheekily at the man who had half-heartedly tried to court you on multiple occasions.

“Mando Fett,” you teased, “What’s up?” His helmeted head lowered slightly in a silent sigh but your companion quickly caught his attention and he straightened his back again.

“Heard you were rolling around with another Alpha.”

“Mmm, yeah, some of what Zeni spills is the truth. Or at least half true. Heard you were the one who gave him the card.”

Maul nodded his head once in greeting to Jango who returned the gesture.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So what’s going on? Need a hand getting out of a sticky spot or do you come with holo-roses this time?” you leaned back and put your feet up on the dash, taking another gulp of caf while waggling your eyebrows at your fellow bounty hunter.

“Neither actually,” he chuckled, “I know how you love a good hunt and I’ve caught word that the Jawas on some back water planet are offering an unusually high price for Mud Horn eggs. Plus their horns always fetch a nice price, someone’s always ready to buy the hides. I figured I’d extend the invitation to you and your cold-blooded outlaw friend. New guy can come along too of course. What do you say, wanna go have some from away from the office?”

“Hmm,” you animatedly tapped a finger to your chin, “the promise of a good hunt, decent credits and you bring the beer, what’s the catch?” you smiled coyly.

“First off, bring your own booze. Secondly,” he unsheathed a large viroblade, “I say we make it interesting.”

“No blasters?”

“No blasters.”

“You’ll have to pry Bane’s from his cold dead hands.” Jango laughed loudly, “please, he’s not just a gunman, he’s an alpha. All I have to do is poke at his pride a bit and he’d take a few down with his bare hands and his teeth just to put all us younglings in our place.”

You laughed this time and turned to your tattooed companion, “what do you say? Wanna take a break from chasing quarries and go on a hunt for a day or two? It’ll still get you credits.”

    Maul took a second to glance around the cock-pit and looked at all the pictures that had been taken from various hunting parties and for the first time in his life he actually had the want to experience something like that. Yes, he had battled and defeated an array of fearsome monsters but it had always been a solo operation and for only the benefits of getting stronger and proving his worth to his master. It seemed like his new peers viewed such acts as a time to be enjoyed and remembered, the promise of credits was an added bonus as well.  

“Alright, a day or two wouldn’t put us behind schedule, would it?” his velvety yet raspy voice that you hadn’t heard in hours cut through you like a lightsaber and you caught your whimper in your throat but not without creasing your brows in annoyance.

“No it wouldn’t. you’ll just be stuck with me a little longer.” He shrugged his shoulders in response so you turned your attention back to the image of the other hunter.

“Alright, we’ll be there. Send me the coordinates. We’re on Hoth at the moment so we’ll be there in however long it takes to meet you leaving from here.”

“I’ll wait just for the sake of missing your complaints of taking a head start.” You couldn’t see his face but you could hear the smile in his voice. You pointed a finger gun in his direction, “head start or not I’ll still bag more eggs and more horns than you.”

The both of you laughed as you hung up the call right before the transmitted coordinates synced in your nav computer. Three Alphas, one Omega, and a promising hunt. This is going to be really fun or go horribly wrong. Either way, you’d get some good pictures out of it.

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