#and that I saw those the intense expressions somewhere before...

[nightfal1n]

just noticed Side B manga's artist is the same person who draw Ziga and I feel alive again

[pseudowho]

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

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Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.

"...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

[tsumuus]

sometimes the person you fall for isn’t ready to catch you

The weight of your feelings for Shoto Todoroki had always been a silent burden, one you carried with careful deliberation. You’d known him for years, watched him grow from the reserved, conflicted teen in UA into the poised and powerful Pro Hero he was today. Through it all, your friendship remained constant, a steady foundation you both relied on, even when the world around you was chaotic.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. Your heart started to race when he was near, your thoughts lingered on his gentle, thoughtful words, and the space between you felt charged with something unspoken. You weren’t sure when admiration turned into affection or when that affection grew into something deeper, but you were sure of one thing- you had fallen for Shoto Todoroki.

And it was terrifying.

The feelings you harbored were a fragile thing, a delicate balance of hope and fear. You didn’t want to lose what you had with him, the bond you’d nurtured for so long. But the more time you spent with him, the more your heart ached with the need to tell him, to lay it all bare and hope against hope that he might feel the same.

But Shoto Todoroki wasn’t known for catching people. He wasn’t known for diving into emotions or revealing the deep inner workings of his heart. He was quiet, reserved, and careful with his affections. And you were afraid that if you confessed, you’d be left in that silence, caught in the cold of his uncertainty if he didn’t feel the same.

It was late one evening when you found yourself sitting beside him on the rooftop of his agency, the city lights glittering below like a sea of stars. Shoto had always liked it up here, the quiet that contrasted with the chaos of his daily life. It was one of the rare moments when you saw him at ease, his usual composed expression softened into something more contemplative.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His voice was calm, but there was a subtle concern in it that only someone who knew him well would notice.

You forced a smile, trying to push away the thoughts that had been plaguing you all night. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked, turning his gaze fully on you, the intensity of his mismatched eyes making it even harder to breathe.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. The words were on the tip of your tongue, desperate to escape, but they clung there, weighed down by the fear of what could come next.

“I… I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you began, your voice shaky despite your efforts to keep it steady. You could feel his eyes on you, his focus unwavering, and it made the confession that much harder. “It’s just��� I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I don’t think I can keep it to myself anymore.”

Shoto’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes- surprise, maybe, or concern. “What are you trying to say?”

You swallowed hard, the words finally spilling out in a rush before you could stop yourself. “I like you, Shoto. More than just a friend. I’ve liked you for a long time now, and I just… I needed to tell you.”

Silence. The air between you seemed to freeze, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest that you could barely hear anything else. Shoto’s expression remained calm, almost too calm, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the right response.

“yn, I…”

Your heart sank at the hesitation in his voice, at the way he seemed to struggle with his words. Shoto wasn’t one to speak his emotions easily, and you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was trying to find the right words, the right way to let you down gently.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted, his voice soft but heavy with the weight of his uncertainty. “I care about you, yn. You’re important to me, more than you know. But… I’m not sure if I can return those feelings. Not in the way you deserve.”

The weight of his words settled in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You had known, deep down, that this was a possibility, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. It didn’t stop the ache that spread through you, the hollow feeling of rejection that gnawed at your heart.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, though it was anything but. “I understand.”

Shoto’s eyes softened, and there was a deep sadness in them, a regret that he couldn’t express more clearly. He reached out, his hand hovering just above yours before he pulled back, as if unsure whether he had the right to cross that line.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice laced with a sorrow that made your chest tighten. “You mean a lot to me, yn. But I’m still trying to figure things out. I don’t want to rush into something and end up hurting you more in the end.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I appreciate that, Shoto. I do. I just… I just needed to tell you.”

Shoto’s gaze remained on you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn’t fully decipher. “Please don’t distance yourself,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

You offered him a small, sad smile, trying to push away the tears that threatened to fall. “I’m not going anywhere, Shoto. I promise.”

But as you sat there beside him, the space between you feeling wider than ever, you couldn’t help but wonder if that promise was one you could keep. Because while you were willing to wait, to be patient, you weren’t sure how long you could bear the weight of unrequited feelings, how long you could keep pretending that everything was okay when it wasn’t.

Sometimes, the person you fall for isn’t ready to catch you. And as much as it hurt, you knew that Shoto Todoroki wasn’t ready to catch you. Not yet.

masterlist

a/n i have to wake up in less than 5 hours bc i have senior sunrise, and instead of going to sleep as soon as i finished my hw i sat down and wrote this🤗 yw ig<3333 or not bc this is angsty lol i will make up for it soon

[xvysarene]

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕗

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.3k Genre: Suggestive Notice: 3rd person POV, Mentions of alcohol, Slight OOC Zayne (not a teetotaler)

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“I know a healthier way to relieve stress, doctor.”

Alcohol-induced thoughts had rolled off her tongue effortlessly.

She had expected his towering build to abruptly rise and leave her right there, appalled by the provocative comment. A disgusted expression or an unexpected snort would be acceptable too.

Yet, when she finally dared to face him, those sharp eyes locking with hers was not something she expected. Overflowing intensity caused her skin to tingle.

“You shouldn’t offer what you can’t deliver, Ms. Y/N,” his lowered voice warned her, sending a chill down her spine on hearing the way he had addressed her so formally, just like when they were in the meeting room.

The room suddenly spun, but not from the alcohol. No, she only had two bottles of beer, just enough to loosen her tongue like this.

The response in her throat dried as she saw him sipping his whiskey sans ice, Adam apple’s bobbing as he swallowed the deep amber liquid after letting it linger in his mouth, taking in the smoky flavour.

“Well?” Perfectly arched brow challenged her.

Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, she took one last gulp from the barely touched third bottle to calm her nerves before subtly cocking her head to the bar’s exit.

It was one of the rare moments she had seen him smirk and not in response to a challenge in the medical field. 

The faint creaking from the bar stool was loud in her ears as he stood up, settling both of their bills with the bartender, and leaving a hefty tip. His surprisingly warm palm rested low on her hip as he guided her to his black sedan.

Mesmerizing city lights blurred. Her attention drawn solely to the sensation of his thumb slowly drawing circles on her thigh.

Next thing she knew, her back was pressed against the back of his front door, lips locked in a passionate battle filled with intense desire that made her knees buckle.

The strong thigh nestled between her heated core was the only thing stopping her from melting into a puddle on his floor. The friction, a welcome bliss, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

That was the beginning of the agreement, becoming a recurring occurrence whenever both of them needed to blow off steam from the stresses of demanding jobs. Him, saving lives, and her, dealing with difficult clients.

“Thank you for being my stress relief.”

His words cut through her second post-orgasm haze like ice water.

Somewhere along the line of what was supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement, small things like having a late-night snack together to deeper conversation during pillow talks grew to be a regular part of the deal.

Feelings for him had begun to bloom, much like the flowers outside with the arrival of warmer weather.

“Are you okay?” The sound of rustling sheets reminded her that she had been silent for too long while staring emptily at his ceiling.

“Yeah,” she simply replied.

Not satisfied with the answer, she felt Zayne’s fingertips lightly tracing above her collarbone, gently checking patches of skin that had turned reddish. They would undoubtedly be bruised by the next day.

“Was I too rough?”

Hands roamed greedily over her curves, warm lips on the sensitive dips and folds that he had become well acquainted with, growls of desire, and powerful thrusts flashed through her mind.

She tried to suppress the memories, though her body still hummed from the aftereffects. “No, just tired.”

He carefully took hold of her chin, noticing that she had been avoiding his gaze. "Y/N, you know you can talk to me, right?" his voice filled with concern. 

“I think that’s the problem.”

Zayne’s calculated hazel orbs bore into hers, searching for the meaning behind her words.

“I’m not sure if you notice, Zayne, but for a casual arrangement, things are starting to get complicated.”

It was his turn to drop his gaze. For someone as bright as him, it would be impossible for the situation to go over his head.

He too must have realised the way their dynamic had changed over time; they had spent more time together in and out of the bedroom. 

At times, they’d simply cuddle through the nights, providing a safe haven without the necessity for words.

She held her breath. There was no going back now. “It's starting to feel like more than just sex—it has been for some time.”

Retracted fingers sent a clear sign that he was about to take a step back, the gesture as clear as the darkness enveloping the night. The guarded mask was back once he met her gaze again.

“We both agreed that this was meant to be casual. I don't want either of us to end up getting hurt.”

It sounded like an automated response even to his ears. He grimaced.

Y/N's heart sank. Despite the obvious signal of his withdrawal, his words still pierced her heart. “I see,” she said quietly, distancing herself from him slightly.

Zayne could sense her disappointment and reached out to touch her arm. “Hey, Y/N, it's not that I don't care about you. I just…” his words faltered.

“I understand,” she said, forcing a smile. “I believe it might be best if we stop doing this then.”

He breathed out slowly. “Yeah, you may be right.”

A curt nod was directed at him. “I should probably get going anyway.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s past midnight,” Zayne immediately stood up, trying to stop her. She tried hard not to look down at his abs or any other part of his anatomy. “I’m not asking you to leave. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”

“I just prefer to sleep on my own bed tonight, but thank you for the offer.”

He watched as she quickly slipped on her clothes and gathered her things. 

“Let me drop you off at least,” he pleaded.

“I'll take the 24-hour taxi on the corner of your street and send you my location,” she shut him down with the same assertive tone she used when closing deals.

As he closed the door behind her, a part of him wished she hadn't seen him at the bar that evening when he had let his heart rule over his brain.

“What is it?” Zayne took the pen out of his pocket and began to add his notes to the patient’s file.

When no response came from the direction of his office door, he exasperatedly looked up, about to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting him.

Greyson, his assistant and regrettably a close friend out of work, stood in place, watching his every move.

“Less than fifteen minutes to the meeting; you were normally ready half an hour before that.”

The grip on the pen tightened as he concentrated back on jutting his notes down, making sure he didn’t miss any important details.

“I have some urgent things to attend to earlier.”

Greyson hmmed. “Yeah, things that you normally assign to the junior doctors so they can 'practice more' as you often phrase it."

Zayne knew that engaging with Greyson was futile since he would never win—a rarity, given that he would typically be the one in Greyson's shoes in any other situation.

“Let’s go, don’t want to be late for such an important meeting.”

As Greyson walked one step ahead of him, he did shoot daggers at the back of his friend's head all the way to the meeting room.

Nervous fingers, poised to adjust the tie, froze in place as he noticed Yvonne sent Greyson a knowing look once they entered the conference room before setting her eyes on him.

“Ah, Doctor Zayne and Doctor Greyson are here,” the hospital administrator greeted them from his seat.

He cleared his throat. “Apologies for running late.”

“Not at all, Doctor Zayne. You are, in fact, right on time,” Y/N said, acknowledging him after finishing setting up her laptop for the presentation.

"It's good to have you back, Ms. Y/N,” Greyson said as he took the seat across from him.

“Likewise, Doctor Greyson.”

“No offense to your colleague, but we were afraid we’d get a new account manager.”

The smile faltered slightly on her lips, clearly taken aback by his assistant’s nonsensical comment. “I had a business trip last time, which was why I had asked my colleague to step in for me.”

“We find that consulting with you is a more enjoyable process for us, as you're familiar with our requirements, isn’t that right, Doctor Zayne?"

Greyson’s sudden query left him unprepared. He sent his friend a quick warning glance before nodding, afraid that his carefully crafted pretense of nonchalance would slip away.

“Right, since everybody is here, should we start the meeting then?” the purchasing manager spoke when he finally put his phone down, not paying attention to the conversation as he was busy texting anyway. “Ms. Y/N, what new devices do you have for us?”

As Y/N started her presentation, Yvonne’s hushed words reached his ears, “Would you like some water, doctor?” The nurse’s hand appeared in his line of vision, handing him a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” he replied, making the mistake of looking into the nurse's eyes. Her perceptive gaze told him she knew how surprisingly affected he was by Y/N’s presence.

For once, he regretted instilling in those who work under him the importance of being observant of their surroundings.

Y/N’s fingers traced the rim of the glass, lost in the haunting cadence of the singer's voice. 

The lady poured her heart into each note. Each lyric dripped with the bittersweet of longing, a testament to love that lingered just beyond reach.

“Pretty uneventful for a celebratory night, don’t you think?” The bartender—Ethan, she had learned his name—approached her again once the end of the workweek crowd had slowly dispersed.

“Perhaps,” she replied, “but it allows me to rearrange my thoughts.”

She had found unexpected companionship with the bartender, who had recognised her from the night her loose tongue had led her into a difficult situation with Zayne.

Despite its prime location at Moonshadow Avenue, the jazz bar remained a hidden gem, often overlooked by the bustling crowds.

It was the perfect place to enjoy some time alone outside the confines of her home, feeling it a little too empty lately.

“People normally do that within the privacy of their home,” he responded knowingly. There was a kindness in his eyes, a silent reassurance that she wasn't alone in her solitude.

She sent him a small smile and savored the final drop of the ruby-hued liquid. A delicate hint of orange zest, weaving through the complex herbaceous notes, warmed her body.

Ethan took the empty glass. “And that, ma’am, is the last glass for tonight.”

When he saw her let out a playful huff despite the buzz that she was feeling, he offered a gentle warning, “Negronis can sneak up on you quicker than you think. Wouldn't want you making any bad decisions now, would we?”

“Alright, dad.” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes to his retreating figure, feeling grateful for his watchful care.

As the band moved on to another piece, she cast a look around the room. Couples were huddled together, allowing intimate conversations to blend with the somber tones of saxophones and pianos.

The warm, honeyed glow from antique lamps illuminated their faces, creating playful shadows dancing across their features. Every exchanged smile spoke volumes of love in a myriad of languages shared between them.

Feeling a churn inside her heart, she grabbed her purse, ready to call it a night.

“It’s on the house,” Ethan tutted after serving another patron.

“I had more than one glass tonight,” she warned and slid the card to him.

“If I ever undergo heart surgery at Akso—God forbid”—he knocked on the polished bar to ward off any bad luck—“I’ll make sure to thank you personally for the devices you sold to them.” With that, he slid the card back across the bar.

Y/N shook her head at his antics and handed him a generous trip instead. “Thank you, but just this once.”

“Anytime, milady,” he quipped, bowing dramatically. “Get home safely.”

She waved goodnight and stumbled a bit, the buzz from the drink intensifying as she rose from the stool. Ethan’s advice was spot on—any more drinks and she might have found herself spinning along with the room, tripping her way out the door.

The cool breeze of the spring night air hit her, a welcoming sensation that helped clear her head. Phone in hand, ready to order a ride, she thought she caught a whiff of a sterile smell, a scent that reminded her of the corridors at the hospital. 

Heart racing, she looked up at the sound of a familiar voice softly uttering her name.

“Y/N?” he called out again as she blinked at him.

It was Zayne, still clad in the white shirt and light beige cotton vest combo he had worn earlier in the day, looking like he just finished his shift.

Though he had rolled up his sleeves, allowing the world to get a sight of his strong forearms.

A faint sigh slipped from his lips as he extended a finger in front of her face, moving it from left to right, checking to see if her eyes focused on it.

“You’ve been drinking more than I thought.”

“What are you doing here?”  Y/N countered, not expecting to see him.

Those unmistakable hazel eyes peered down at her, before looking to the side, lost in contemplation. 

“I need to see you. Figured you might have frequented this bar again and I was right.”

Her mouth opened and closed, mind racing on how to respond to that.

The lively younger crowd suddenly shifted, eager to migrate to a happening spot as the night was still young to them, and she found herself jolted into his embrace.

Apologies from a younger girl fell on deaf ears as her focus was captured by the arms securely wrapping around her figure.

“Let me drive you home.”

It wasn’t a question. The same words he had uttered the night she left his house echoed in her mind.

City lights blurred into a colorful haze, much like the first time she sank into the plush leather seat of his car, though her thigh felt empty.

The hand that had rested on it previously was gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to restrain itself. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he finally broke the silence when her apartment came into view.

Zayne turned off the engine and turned to face her. “But seeing that you’ve had some drinks, it’s probably better if we do this when you’re completely sober.”

“Meet me upstairs,” the words came rushing out of her mouth, surprising him and her both.

He looked into her eyes deeply. “Are you sure?”

She nodded swiftly and opened the car door, stepping out before she could second-guess her decision.

Upstairs, weary feet paced back and forth, the sound of footsteps echoing softly in the quiet apartment. Fresh breeze swept through the opened windows, bringing clarity to her mind.

Soon, there was a soft knock on the door, and her heart raced faster. She was met with the sight of him who had shed his vest and tie. That sure wasn’t helping her nerves as he somehow looked even more dashing than before.

She could feel his heat as he passed her. Suddenly, her apartment felt small with Zayne standing there, his presence filling the room.

“You have been busy,” he remarked when he saw the pile of papers stacked on her coffee table.

“I’m just trying to do more work to take my mind off…” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Of you.

“Of what?” Zayne prompted. “Is everything okay?” He genuinely looked concerned, softening her towards him even more, if possible.

“Just a lot in my mind lately,” she opted to say.

He hmmed understandingly and they resorted to another silence. Feeling parched, she took a swig of the chilled water from her fridge, aware that his gaze was tracking her every move.

“I saw you hurriedly walking down the hospital corridor a couple of months back,” he said quietly, “avoiding me as if I were contagious.”

And yet, she had done it again earlier in the morning. After successfully closing the deal with Akso, the businesswoman's confidence evaporated as their hands clasped in a shake.

The familiar hold of his hand ignited a surge of memories, memories where he had once gripped both of her wrists effortlessly, guiding her into moments of ecstasy.

It prompted her to hastily make an escape.

“I just...didn't know how to face you, and I didn’t want to make things more awkward between us.”

His hand caught her chin, lifting her head that had hung low from embarrassment. Her breath caught, only noticing how those broad shoulders were closer than before.

“I’ve missed you.”

Doubt stealthily crept into her. “You mean the sex?”

“That’s a totally different context,” he clarified quickly, "I care about you. More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And it drives me crazy knowing that I have hurt you.

“You were right, it hadn’t been just a casual arrangement for some time," he admitted, voice tinged with fragility that she had heard sneaking in within the safe space of their pillow talks. “I’m a coward who thought that completely baring my soul to someone will only end in heartache.”

“Well, I have a soft spot for this particular person who dares to bare his soul.” Her smile was gentle, though he didn’t miss the mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Did you finally admit that it was more than physical or is my mind playing tricks on me, Doctor Zayne?”

A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Judging on your playful quip even when I’m being serious and…” His thumb brushed against her jugular, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her pulse beneath his touch. “…seeing that you’re responding even to the slightest touch, it seems that you’re fully alert right now.”

Smouldering gaze pinned her down to the spot. Their heads tilted closer, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull.

“Though, I never refuted that I didn’t miss the physical aspect, did I?”

A surge of heat rushed through that one spot south of her body. “So, Mr. Coward, what’s your next brave move going to be?” her words came out in a breathless whisper.

With a barely audible exhale, he grabbed her by the back of the neck. Mouths moved in a passionate dance of need, their kisses growing more desperate with each passing second.

As they fought for oxygen, he withdrew, forehead touching hers. “Are you sure this is something you want? Right after we talk about things between us are more than just sex?”

“Didn’t you confirm I’m ‘fully alert’ earlier?”

She tugged on his collar, drawing him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The fabric of her pencil skirt felt constricting as his skilled surgeon fingers toyed along the waistband.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” she managed to gasp out in between her moans, tilting her head back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to his wandering lips further.

“No,” he replied, voice thick with a feral need.

Puffs of hot breath danced across her skin, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand proud. “Will you stay the night then?”

Full-blown dark irises locked onto hers, a sly curl exclusively reserved for her tugged at the corner of his lips

“I thought you’d never asked,” he breathed, before lightly nibbling on his favourite spot. The spot he knew would elicit the sweetest symphony from her lips.

Peppered purplish marks would for sure grace her neck for the next couple of days. And perhaps a few other places on her body too.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[hw4-l1z]

can i request a minho x male reader where minho thinks reader is straight and kinda avoids him when reader became really close to a female idol bc minho has feelings for him. reader confronts him since they used to be close, and now their conversations are so short. Angsty till minho confesses and reader accepts. and it would be awesome if you could make reader physically bigger than minho (taller and broader). if you want nsfw, thats completely your choice. Ill love it regardless <3

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I'm gonna swallow him whole

Lee Know x Male!Reader (fluff)

Cw: none tbh other than a little angsty and kissy kissy// ig dom!reader but there's no smut

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You've noticed for past few weeks that Minho's been fairly distant with you. He used to give you alot of funny flirtatious remarks and would always be by your side chatting away at anything and everything. But everytime you pass by him, expecting him to stop and talk to you for a bit, he just sends a little smile your way and quickly walks by almost as if your somewhat strangers now.

You missed him. You really did. You missed him being so close to you, pulling those silly disgusted faces when you 'jokingly' flirted with him, his hand constantly being on your butt as he looks at you with a big smirk on your face and you miss cooking together. You had grown feelings for him, loving how you both had such a strong connection with eachother and how you could be yourself around him.

You wanted thay back more than anything so you decided that you would go on a hunt in hopes to find him somewhere in the company building. You checked in with chan to ask if he's seen him anywhere and he suggested that he may be in the practise room. And of course, he was there. You knocked on the door as you slowly opened it and saw him sitting there on the couch along with a few of the other members sprawled out. You poked your head round the corner and signaled for him to come with you with your hand. He gave you a little confused look before standing up and following you out the door. You softly wrapped your hand around his wrist and pulled him into the nearest empty room.

You pulled him down to sit with you on the couch as you begin to speak, "are you okay? Is somthing going on? Did I do something wrong?" You asked turning your body to face him. He just gives you another confused look "what? What's this about? What makes you think that?".

"I don't know...you've just seen very distant with me...Min...if I've done something wrong I need you to tell me so I can fix it" you furrowed your brows at him. He shakes his head before speaking "no what? You haven't done anything wrong I promise" he looks away, signing before he continues "it's not you I promise...it's me, I'm probably just overthinking it all" he says looking back at you.

"About what? From what I know everything was perfectly fine...until it wasn't" you say, string deeply into his eyes, trying to read his expressions. "I don't know...just maybe that you wouldn't wanna speak to me much anymore" he shrugs. "Why wouldn't I wanna speak to you anymore? I never showed signs of that did I?" You're sitting there so confused, just wanting nothing but to get what you had with him back.

"I know but..." He can feel himself begin to tear up, trying to hold it back, not wanting to seem vulnerable in front of you but he just feels so small right now. Your gaze is quite intense, you're eyes haven't left him since you entered the room and it's a bit much for him to handle. "...you just seemed like you were really really close with *idols name* and...thought since your eyes were on her that you wouldn't be interested in anyone else but her" he says only able to look down. He's scared that if he looks at you then he might break and that's the last thing he wants.

"Min that's silly...why would I not be interested? We had such a strong connection and suddenly it disappeared, I miss being with you" you say. His cheeks go pink as he thinks to himself 'he misses me? He misses spending time with me?'. "Do you think I have a crush on her?" You ask him, confused at the fact you thought he knew you were gay. He nods his head slowly before looking up and into your eyes. He instantly regretted it at his bottom lip begin to tremble and tears fall from his eyes. Your eyes widen as you see him sit in front of you, trying to wipe away his tears as he starts to sniffle.

"Oh my god min, don't cry, why are you crying?" You say a little panicked. You move closer as you pull him into your arms, his head buries into your chest as he sits there and cries into your shirt. You can't help but notice how small he really is compared to you, he fits perfectly in your arms and it warms your heart. "Min...I don't have feelings for her, I'm gay I don't like girls" you laugh a little. He could feel the butterflies that from in his stomach as you admitted that. He pulls away looking up at you "you...you are? I thought you were straight".

You laugh out loud, finding it funny that he actually thought you were straight. "What?! No no what?! You really thought I was straight? I thought I was quite obviously gay, why else would I have flirted with you?" You give him a confused/shocked face as his face lit up a little. "You were ACTUALLY flirting with me? It thought it was a joke...did I read this whole thing wrong?" He asks feeling stupid that he never picked up the signs. "Clearly you were yeah" you chuckle, as he hangs his head shakes it side to side, a little smile forming on his face. "I mean...I have a huge crush on you so it kinda sucked to think you'd never have any sort of feelings for me but.." He trails off before looking you in the eyes again, "I was just an idiot I guess" he let's out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah your are...but you could be my idiot" you smile lovingly at him. He nods his head before speaking "I'm your idiot" he smiles fondly at you, still feeling like an fool for not reading the room earlier.

"Hey look at me the now...you have something on your face" you say as he looks at you unknowingly. "Let me get it for you" you say as you lean closer, pretending like your about to blow it off his face but instead planting a soft kiss to his cheek. "Ah it's just beauty" you smirk as you cup his face in your hands as he just sits there shocked and flustered before he let's out a laugh and slaps your arm playfully "YAAAA" he shouts loudly. You cover your ears with your hand as his loud voice rings though your ears "my god pipe down" you say laughing.

"You missed my lips idiot" he smirks at you before making his cute little kissy face at you. You can't help but smile in awe as you cup the side of his face with one hand and lean forward. You plant a quick soft kiss to his lips before pulling slightly back, he un-puckers his lips before leaning to kiss your normally. Your lips melt into eachothers so perfectly, his ears burning red as you feel the heat creep up your neck and spread onto your cheeks. The kiss is so soft and delicate, you both just sit there for a few minutes soaking in the feeling.

After a while you both pull away from eachother, just sitting there looking at eachother with flustered looks on both of your faces before yous break into a fit of giggles, leaning into eachother as you laugh away. You both sit there for a spilt second after calming down before you speak up and break the silence.

"Is it too early to say I love you"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[sickuma]

TULIPS — a König fic.

❱ This will have two parts (or more) depending on how the comments on tiktok are /j but it'll probably be more than two! please keep in mind that the **" "** in italics are their memories, or something they said before the incident.

ꜝ？angst warning, as well as mentions of injuries. pairing is König x reader !

this is unedited, grammatical and spelling errors are to be expected.

➴ SYNOPSIS — You and König were in a mission when you see a lens-flare aimed right at his chest, without hesitation, you lunge and take the hit for him.

VORFRUEDE — the joyful intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

"[name], call for backup." 

You nod, doing your best to comply as much as you can despite the exhaustion which enveloped your body,

It's your duty. It's your job to protect,

"Backup's on the way, König. Evac is almost there too, we just have to—"

You will never die for these people,

You wouldn't allow yourself to die for the military. No matter how brutal your battles are, you've sworn to always put yourself first.

"König."

A ragged breath escaped your lips.

You would never choose someone else over your own life.

No one would come first before yours,

No one else but him.

"König!"

It was as if you caught a brief glimpse of your world crumbling down, seeing that red dot aimed right at his heart, you couldn't hear anything else but this blinding ringing.

Without another thought, you lunged towards his direction. Pushing him aside roughly as you take the hit for him,

As if this moment was purposely slowed down, you saw his eyes widened through your blur of a vision, you saw the glint of panic in his eyes.

"König, when we retire, 

let's have a small house and garden."

"[name]!"

König found himself falling on the hard floor, not feeling the impact of your push as his attention focused on your trembling figure,

He saw it,

He saw how you froze, how your head slowly turned down to look at the horrifying wound. Raising both your hands weakly to look at the stains of blood.

"In that garden, we'll grow tulips."

His frightened gaze laid on your collapsing figure. Without wasting a moment more, he rushed towards your limp body, lifting you up to sit you somewhere safer.

With tears stained eyes, he dropped to the floor, holding your trembling body close to him as his clouded vision attempts to stop the threatening tears,

"Keep your eyes open, [name]."

His body shook, he could feel his hands shake terribly. Looking down at you with a horrified expression.

The love of his life laid limp on his lap,

And it's because of him.

Of all the reasons, did it have to be him?

"Evac is— evac is coming. Please please please."

He knew the bullet hit somewhere fatal, otherwise you wouldn't have gone into shock. He saw the life fade from your eyes,

But you raised your weak hands to caress his clothed face, a smile making its way to your blood stained lips.

"The tulips, könig, they're gonna be so pretty."

"no, no, no." He shook his head as he saw the acceptance in your eyes.

"I've never loved anyone as much as I did with you, Keep that—keep that in your mind könig."

He shakes his head vigorously, screaming for you to wake up. Shaking your trembling body, 

The tulips, we still haven't planted them.

Wake up.

"[name] you can't, please, the tulips."

Who knew loving you would be a beautiful tragedy?

Have you known,

[name]?

Have you known that you'll be taking my heart wherever you go?

Have you known I'll grow those tulips, just for you?

"Grow the tulips for me, my love."

"I won't." He shook his head repeatedly. 

"Without you, I won't."

With your weak, strained voice you spoke. For him you kept trying,

"We'll plant them together—right Liebling?" He desperately spoke, keeping his hand tightly placed on your wound to apply pressure.

"Just as we planned. Together. In our small house. After we—" he paused to sob, letting out the clashing emotions that pierced through him.

"You even said that we'll have a cat, he's gonna be named Leaf because of our garden. You said I'll wake up next to you, I'll wake up to you playing with my hair—because I like it so much—right? [name]?"

"We still have to do those."

His lungs felt trapped in every word he spoke, it felt as if he’d pass out. Never had he felt so weak and hopeless, not for a mission, not for something,

Especially not ever for a person.

And yet here he sat, crying uncontrollably for you to stay and fulfil the plans you’ve made together. 

"You still have to—"

"You still have to marry me," he whispered. 

"Schatz bitte."

He cried, as he couldn't do anything else but wait for evac. He needed you, 

He can't lose you.

Not now. Not ever.

"I know I sound selfish, I know you're hurting and you want to rest but—I just—what would I be without you?"

Tulips,

Without their roots, they are lifeless.

Tulips without their sunlight are bound to wilt.

You felt your own tears trickle down your face,

"Liebling, I won't just let you go. I won't. Even after we planted those tulips," He paused, unable to control his emotions as he looked into your weak eyes. Your eyes that are on the verge of giving up,

"I'll keep needing you, I'll keep holding on."

And as if on cue, he hears the door thump. For a moment, he felt relieved, his tears abruptly stopping as his head turned towards the door. “[name], see? Evac is—” His heart dropped when the realisation hit, it wasn’t evac. They would have asked first, they would have given callouts. It’s the syndicates,

With an exhausted breath, his eyes grew darker, placing [name] on the corner hurriedly and gently. “Stay here, call for evac again alright? Don’t—don’t close your eyes [name], please.” He placed a kiss on top of your head before he picked his weapon up once again, sparing you one last glance before he quietly made his way towards the entrance. The sadness fading for a moment as rage replaced the burning emotion in his heart,

They did this.

They're taking you away from him.

With gritted teeth he strides, coming in contact with the geared enemies. As if he’d forgotten how exhausted he was, he fought efficiently. Taking hits and giving just the same, he was enraged, and they felt it. How he grunts and how he raised his hand. His strength and size overpowered them easily, 

It was as if he lost himself, he looked almost unreal. Taking lives with a clenched jaw, he felt anger. As he remembered what could possibly happen because of what they did,

What he can possibly go through.

He pants, staring down at the bloody sight. Taking in the smell and the horrendous end he made them face,

It didn't feel accomplished. Inside that room, you sat with a bullet deep inside your body. Defeating these people didn't feel as accomplished as it did before.

He weakly walked back—praying to whoever that you’re still breathing, that you’re still alive to continue on with your lives, still alive to plant the tulips with him. With droopy eyes he saw your bloody figure, sat with closed eyes and the talkie wrapped around your hands,

His tears fell once again, “schatz, I'm back.” he whispered, collapsing beside your body. Throwing the talkie and replacing it with his hands, clasping yours together with his tightly. 

The tulips,

“We couldn't separate them so we had to fit both of them in one evac vehicle.”

The captain looked at horangi in question, “Couldn't separate them?” “König held them too tightly, we were only able to separate them when we arrived here. Roze suggested letting them share a room together but due to some policies, the hospital didn't allow it.” he explained further, as they looked at König’s sleeping figure,

He had a frown despite being in a deep sleep.

“I see.” the captain mumbles, “make sure to let him know that [name] is safe, I'm certain hell would be loose if he didn't see them near him.” Horangi nodded, he spoke just before the captain reached the door. “[name]’s in a coma, doctors have informed us that they’re unstable.” “They’ll pull through, for König they will.” the captain replies without turning his head back. “They spoke of their retirement recently, [name] wouldn't disappoint König.”

“What color of tulips will we have?”

“Mm, white.”

“Why's that?” he asks you,

“To symbolize how sorry I am.”

He gasped, sitting up on the bed with his hands tightly wrapped around his neck, attempting to catch his breaths. The dream had hunted him, the look on your face,

The apologetic tone you spoke with,

What did you mean by that? What are you sorry for? Before he could take in his surroundings, he exited the room. Uncaring about the chords that connect to him, he walked and walked till he reached the front desk. “[name]. Where is their room?” He spoke sternly, catching the nurse off guard, he knew he looked terrifying but that’s not of his concern right now. He needs to know you're here, he needs to know you have a room, because if you dont it can only mean one thing.

And he’ll refuse to believe that. “Ah— [name] under the KorTac factions is it?” the nurse stuttered, flipping through the pages of their record book frantically, not wanting to cause the soldier any more agitation.

“Room 405 sir. The patient who’s in—” Without hearing any more words from the nurse, he ran, hurriedly ran to wherever that room could be. Worriedly reading the numbers in each room as adrenaline enveloped his body. Relief, happiness, everything all at one, he could cry.

But not yet, not until he sees you, not until he holds you. “[name]!” He chimes, barging inside the room recklessly. There was no one else inside, only you on the bed, sleeping soundly. He pants, walking closer, feeling his hands tremble by the sight of you. “Liebling.” he mumbled, reaching for the chair and sitting by you. “Love, you're here.” He could feel the tears fall at last, feeling his heart at ease. The sight of you removed the thousands of worries on his shoulder, that dream meant nothing, you had nothing to be sorry for. You didn't leave him, “You didn't—you didn't go.” he broke down, laying his head down on your hands which he held. Sobbing to you. “When we go back, let’s retire as soon as possible, okay?” he mumbled, lips trembling as he spoke. His voice broke with happiness. Croaking out whispers of  ‘I love you’s’ while he laid on your hand. “No more of these. No more.” “Let’s buy a house, a small one. Then we’ll go get leaf and—and, the tulips, my love.”

The tulips,

In our home.

Let’s grow the—

“Tulips?” His breath stopped, he froze as you spoke. He raised his head to look at you, weakly staring back at him. “What tulips?” “Where am i?”

The rasp on your voice was heard, the confusion evident and visible from the way you spoke and looked at him. He felt his heart drop, 

“Who are you?”

[silentgravesdontexist]

MDNI: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Last but not least! I present to you, Zoro. Ignore the fact that I wrote and posted all four fics on the same day. Enjoy the meal, lovelies~

Roronoa Zoro x AFAB!Reader

CW: Sexual Content (teasing, edging, penetration, and graphic language) and established relationship

Word Count: 700+

SFW

He tried following your scent when he got lost once. He was still lost. Tried blaming you for walking around everywhere (you weren't, he just has no sense of direction).

Before, he was content with just being in your presence. Not much of a PDA type of guy. But now he'll find ways to touch you. If he's training and you're in the same room, he'll stay beside you during breaks and casually touch you. Tucking a stray hair, hand on your hip, nuzzling against your neck, and etc.

You guys went to a tavern to drink and he saw other guys checking you out— that's why you're now sitting on his lap while his arm is lazily wrapped around your waist.

Similar to Sanji, he does get teased that he'll start chasing around anything that moves or catches his eye but his self-restraint is insane (you caught him barking at a bird annoying him once but you're not supposed to tell the others that).

When he's sitting down, he'll let you hug him from behind while you scratch his fluffy ears. If you do it just right, he'll lean back a bit more into your touch and let out a soft hum.

Oh, boy— Sanji tried flirting with you? He practically snarled while pulling you close against him. Arm wrapped around you while his hand rests on your hip.

He has an indifferent expression on his face. But his ears and tail will always betray him. You all tease him for it.

There was a time you kissed his cheek. He brushed it off with a blank face but his tail was wagging behind him. You just smiled at him and he grumbled something about cutting his tail off.

Also finds the tail somewhat annoying? Kinda like a distraction or gets in the way whenever he trains.

NSWF

Oh, you wanna know what he's like in heat? Maximum self-restraint. And yet he can't help but stare at you intensely. It makes you flustered but you love it.

He could be across the room from you and you'd meet his gaze. His eyes traitorously wandering over your body before closing his eyes and clenching his jaw.

You'll tease him over it. Unbuttoning your top to expose a bit of your cleavage. Whispering his name so sweetly against those sensitive ears. Wearing a short skirt and bending over the counter just right—

Your eyes widen when the world spins. He threw you over his shoulder. Before you could even react, he's smacking your ass and taking you somewhere private.

Time to pay the piper— his words. And you surely did with a tip included.

You think you can get away with all that teasing? No. He's edging you until you're begging for his cock to fill you up. And then, maybe then, he'll listen.

But ofc, he's gonna take his time. Slowly stretching you wide inch by inch. His pace agonizingly slow. He presses you down to stop you from moving your hips.

If you're practically crying out and screaming for him to fuck you properly— he will. Its not like his entire body wasn't already trembling from his restraint. He just had to have his sweet revenge.

Will push your thighs against your chest in a mating press to make your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head. Also backshots. To smack and knead your ass while feeling both of your bodily fluids trailing down his balls.

Unsurprisingly still has enough strength in him to give you a bath after hours of fucking. Both of you just soaking in a bathtub to relax. You'll sit between his legs and he'll wrap his arms around you.

He'd press kisses against your hair while his thumb traces soft patterns on your skin. Lips trailing down to your neck and shoulder. Not much is said. Just nice quiet bath.

~~~~~

If you liked this and wanna read more, here's my masterlist!

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

Fights and Disagreements - a lyra and grayson fic

——————————————————————————

disclaimer: it is VERY long. i wanted it to be shorter but it ended up being long like all of my other fics, even longer actually, and im sorry if you wanted a short read. ill try and make shorter fics from now on but i just love writing long pieces of work im sorry 😭😭

LYRA:

Lyra knew the words to describe Grayson. Patient, sweet, and protective, even if others didn’t see it. But at the moment, none of those things applied to him.

A week ago, Lyra had confronted Grayson about the fact that she thought he worked too much and rarely had time to spend on himself, let alone her, and he took her thoughts into consideration. He told her that he would to try to cut back on hours. Well, days went by with no change except for the excuse that “work was busy at the moment”, and Lyra started to get impatient. She’d confronted him again on the 6th day of no change, except with 0% patience and a disturbing amount of pettiness. Long story short, it had ended in a fight.

Lyra rounded the kitchen table and turned away from Grayson, words flying out of her mouth as she threw her hands up in the air.

“No change! That’s what I got from you Grayson! God, could you not be selfish for one fucking day in your life?!” She screamed, whirling around as she did. A flicker of anger entered Graysons usually calm eyes as he paced over to her, his hair messy from the amount of times he had ran his hands through it.

“I’m being fucking selfish? You haven’t even stopped to consider that maybe I’m working this hard because I’m actually fucking busy!” He shouted back. Lyra was taken aback. She had never heard Grayson shout that loud, let alone barely shout, and he didn’t seem to noticed when her back hit the kitchen island. Instead, he walked closer, his chest heaving. “Work has been stressful enough, Lyra, and I don’t need it fucking up my home life too!” With that last sentence, Grayson threw his hands up in the air, and a breath caught in Lyra’s throat as she did something she never thought she’d ever do in Graysons vicinity. She flinched, throwing her arms over her head. Once she realized she’d done it, her eyes widened and she slowly put her arms back to her side. Looking up, she saw Graysons wide eyes and shocked expression, as he’d stopped yelling.

“Lyra-“ He tried to say, guilt etching his features, before Lyra cut him off.

“Get out.” She said, her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t know where out was, but she just wanted him somewhere away from her right now. And she really didn’t want to cry in front of him, or go to sleep in the same bed as him. Grayson stayed silent for a few moments, before speaking again.

“Lyra, what?” He says, his tone confused. He tries to speak again, before Lyra cuts him off again.

“Get. Out.” She said, her voice quiet again but brimming with intensity. Grayson held her gaze for about 5 seconds, a swarm of emotions stuck on his face, before suddenly stomping off. Lyra wouldn’t let a single tear fall until she heard that door close, and once she did, she slid to the floor, sobs racking her chest. Her eyes caught her phone on the island table, and, without thinking, she pulled herself up, and dialed a number. The line was ringing for about 4 seconds, until the girl on the other end of the line picked up.

“Hello?” Avery said. Lyra swallowed, before speaking.

“I changed my mind. I think I will be able to be apart of your girls hang out night.”

GRAYSON:

The only thing that Grayson had on him as he stormed out of the house that he and Lyra had moved into was his phone and car keys, which could only do so much. Anger almost took hold of him, until he had remembered the way Lyra flinched when he raised his arms, and all that anger had been smothered by drowning guilt. Did she think that he would hurt her? Allow himself to lay even a single finger on her? The truth was, Grayson never would. But still, she thought that in a fit of anger, he would. Grayson was disgusted with himself. He tried to think back to the argument, tried to think back to where it all went wrong, but all he could hear was Lyra calling him “fucking selfish”, and that anger rose again.

Grayson pulled open his car door, sat inside, and slammed it shut, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway without thinking of where he was really going. Maybe he could book a hotel. Or just stay at a cafe/restaurant for a bit and figure things out later. But instead, his hand found his phone, and without thinking, he texted the groupchat with him and his brothers in it. No words, but instead, 3 numbers.

911.

LYRA:

When Lyra knocked on the door of Libby’s little house that she and Nash lived in, she knew how she looked. She could barely see herself in the reflection of some of her glass flower pots, and what she saw was a sniffling girl with red eyes and mascara streaks running down her cheeks. When Libby opened the door with Max and Avery by her side, her grin was smothered.

“Lyra..” Libby said, her voice soft. She looked like she was going to continue as she searched Lyra’s face with concern, but Lyra interrupted, wiping her eyes with her hand as she spoke with the most normality she could muster up.

“So, can we watch that movie you guys were talking about?”

Lyra had been watching some random romcom for 20 minutes, meanwhile her mind had been preoccupied on something else. On the fight. She was going to continue to watch-but-not-watch the movie, when Max stood up and paused it.

“OkayIcan’ttakethisanymore.” She rushed out in one breath as she stood up and turned to Lyra, her hands on her hips. “What the fax happened to you?” Lyra looked down when Avery and Libby looked at her expectantly. She could beat around the bush, but she wasn’t in the mood for it.

“I got in a bad fight with Grayson.” Lyra mumbled, wiping her cheeks that still had some mascara smudged on them. She wanted to leave it at that, but the expectant look on the girls’ faces didn’t falter even once.

“And? What did he do?” Avery asked her. Lyra sighed, before explaining what happened start to finish.

“Cheezits, he sucks. Should I punch him in his cheekbones the next time I see him?” Max immediately asked as soon as she stopped explaining. The question was so sudden and unexpected that Lyra choked out a laugh sob, before speaking.

“No need, Max. It’s not all his fault. I mean, I acted rashly and just went straight to screaming but..” Lyra’s brow furrowed as she recalled the fight. “He barely even tried to hear me out. Does he know that I’ve barely even seen him this past month?” Emotion creeped into Lyra’s voice, before she shook her head and picked at her nails. Libby took her hand in hers and smiled at Lyra softly.

“I know that fights with spouses are hard, but I promise you, you will look back on this moment and see something to learn from, even if you weren’t much in the wrong.” Libby said, gently. Lyra smiled softly at her, but her heart still felt heavy. She loved Grayson. So. Damn. Much. And it felt like stabbing pins in her chest to be away from him for this reason. But maybe some space to clear her head was good.

“I actually don’t really want to talk about this,” Lyra said, smiling softly. “But can we continue watching the movie?” Max barely waited for her to finish her sentence before she took off towards the kitchen.

“Snacks time!” She cheered.

GRAYSON:

By the time Grayson had shown up at the front gates of Hawthorne House, all his brothers were there already. He had heard that Nash was staying there because Libby wanted to have a girls night, but Jameson and Xander had probably came in the time it took for him to drive there. Grayson walked in the front gates with an eerily empty feeling inside him to be away from Lyra. Already he could feel a pit in his stomach, just thinking about going home to a possible empty house. To sleeping alone, without her body wrapped around his. What did it matter that he was angry? He hurt her, and in doing so hurt himself too. His thoughts were interrupted by Xander speeding down the halls and hurling himself at Grayson. Luckily they were on carpeted floor, otherwise Grayson would have gotten some sort of head trauma.

“Thereeee is my darlingggg brothe- oh.” Xander said, starting with a yodeling sing-song voice before returning to his normal tone as he studied Grayson’s face. “You’re looking a little rough there, Gray.” A little rough was an understatement. Not only was Grayson working himself to the bone and getting no sleep, which was why he had such vicious under eyes, but he was also exhausted from his fight with Lyra. His hair was a mess, and Grayson was sure he looked like one too.

“Anyways,” Xander said, shaking off the awkwardness of the moment before with a grin. “The festivities are in the Great Room.”

Grayson successfully managed to wipe off the remaining bit of whipped cream on his shoulder, which was caused by Jameson, who was ruthless with the amount of pies he threw, as he raised a brow at Xander.

“Were the pies really necessary, Xan?” Grayson asked him. Xander grinned before nodding, shoving another spoon in his 3rd pie so far. Grayson felt more at ease than he had hours before, but the fight dawned on him again and suddenly the empty feeling came again. Nash leaned forward, capturing Graysons gaze with his own.

“Now it’s time to tell us what’s goin’ on, Gray. You didn’t call this 911 for no reason. Last time you did, it was because you were hurting,” Nash drawled, flicking a speck of whipped cream off his arm before meeting Graysons eyes again. “You hurting again?” Grayson wanted to say no. Wanted to come up with some fake problem. But then the memory of Lyra throwing her arms up over her head hits him again, and, without meaning to, Grayson placed his hands over his face, covering his eyes. It was a pain he’d never experienced before, that kind of heart break where you wish you could go back in time and change your actions. If he shouted less loudly. If he actually took consideration to her words and took a break, even if his job needed him. If he would finally do the right thing. He wanted nothing more than to melt into Lyra’s skin, to hold her soft hair in his hands, to fall asleep with her in his arms.

But some things were easier said than done.

Suddenly, two hands were prying the ones off his face, and Grayson found himself face to face with Jameson.

“What is it? Something to do with Lyra? Did your poor PI finally break and quit?” Jameson asked him, taunting Grayson for the fact that he tended to have 0 patience when it came to Zabrowski. At the mention of Lyra’s name, Grayson lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent the tears from coming. Luckily, he had been able to turn off his ability to cry since he was little, lest the old man saw him.

“So it is Lyra.” Jameson said again, raising a brow. Grayson opened his eyes, looked back up at Jameson, and that’s when the words started flowing out of his mouth.

Grayson closed his mouth, finally done explaining, and his brothers stayed silent for a few moments. That was, until Jameson decided to speak.

“Maybe we should start a go fund me for Lyra.” He said, narrowing his eyes at Grayson. Nash elbowed him and sent him a warning look, before turning to Grayson.

“I’m not gonna lie Gray, you thoroughly fucked up,” Nash drawled, the words still somehow coming out brotherly. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t make it right. You can stay for a few hours more, or for the night, whatever pleases ya, but you should get back to try and apologize, even if you weren’t fully in the wrong.” Jameson made a face at that last part.

“So, are we lying to him now?” Jameson said. Nash looked like he was about to throttle him, but Grayson just snorted. Honestly, he needed the humour after this depressingly serious night.

“Ooh!” Xander suddenly butted in, a grin on his face. “If you’re staying the night, then that means we can have a movie marathon!” A ghost of a smile touched Graysons face, but he shook his head.

“I’ll stay for maybe another 30 minutes, but afterwards I should be getting back. I’ve been here for long enough, and I think I’m ready to talk things out with Lyra.” He said. He felt almost giddy at the thought of being able to come face to face with her again, even though she’ll probably hate him for hurting her. Nash nodded, before speaking.

“You do that,” He said, with a smile. “And you have to stay and help us clean up the mess we made with the pies anyway.” Grayson smiled back, his heart feeling significantly lighter.

LYRA:

Lyra said goodbye to the girls before getting in her car and driving off. But then she thought about coming home to an empty house and her heart twinged with sadness again. Would Grayson come home some time in the night? Would he sleep on the couch and be gone in the morning? Or would he stay somewhere else for the night? Lyra didn’t know.

She parked in the driveway of her house, before getting out of the car and unlocking her front door. She stepped inside, listening for any movement or sounds, and felt disappointed when she didn’t hear any. Going to her room, well, hers and Graysons room, she stripped off her clothes and put on her pjs, exhaustion slowing her movements. Going to her vanity, she brushed through her hair, and that’s when she heard it. The front door opening.

Lyra’s heart jolted, both with surprise and excitement to see Grayson again tonight, until she remembered that she was supposed to be mad at him. She sat down at the vanity and took off all her jewelry, ignoring Graysons pursues around the house for her. When he stepped into the bedroom, Lyra had to hold herself back from turning to face him. She just continued to take off her necklaces, taking longer than she should and setting them on her jewelry holder neatly. Grayson just stared at her from behind, before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry.” He said. That almost broke the floodgates, and Lyra had to hold herself back from jumping into his arms and letting him carry her to bed. She needed him to first recognize what he’d done, and then maybe there would be time for jumping in his arms.

“What for?” Lyra said, pettiness and anger tinging her tone. Grayson came beside her chair and knelt to his knees, and although Lyra knew it was so that he could get to her height, there was still a part of her that thought he was getting on his knees to beg. There was still a part of her that felt giddy at the thought.

“I’m sorry for not taking time off from work when you asked. I’m sorry for ignoring your suggestions when you first came to me about them. I’m sorry for ever letting you think I would hurt you. I will never hurt you Lyra, and I will not ever let today happen again.” He said. Lyra froze. She’d expected an apology, but she hadn’t expected… that. The truth was, she didn’t think that Grayson would actually hurt her on purpose. She thought that in a fit of anger, his thrown-in-the-air arms would hit her and he wouldn’t notice. It was what he said that hurt her more. She still didn’t look at him, but finally spoke.

“So, you’ll change?” She asked him.

“Yes.” The words flying off his tongue. Lyra felt satisfied by how fast the answer came. Finally turning to look at him, she raised a brow at him, a mild look of anger still on her face.

“I hope you at least missed me on your workaholic month.” She said, raising a brow at him to answer. He stood straighter, his pupils growing larger once she met his gaze.

“I did.” This answer came just as quick as the last, almost like he had been waiting, dying to finally talk to her. Then, he picked her up off the chair and hugged her, holding her tight in his arms. “So damn much.” Lyra’s heart fluttered as Grayson wrapped his arms around her lower back and held her close, digging his head into the space between her neck and shoulders. Lyra was quick to return the hug, squeezing her eyes shut as she melted onto him, her feet dangling in the air.

Some moments didn’t require any words. Sometimes, all you could do was hold each other and breathe.

——————————————————————————

[thecoolerliauditore]

Sorry, not-so-amicable-exes anon here again just cause I saw your big toxic fh breakdown post again cause a friend wanted to read it and we were tlking about it- unimportant, sorry, we just had a thought. Because I've seen some anti-toxic shippers act like this interpretation is out of spite or some intentional thing shippers of other jimmy ships made up (specifically ranchers usually), but the timeline and accusation is all wrong. Like I don't remember ever seeing anyone even talk about this interpretation until post-liml? And it was very hesitantly and apologetically. There was a fic or two before this but most people even the people who enjoyed it expressed discomfort or concern at its existence and that's how most people react to them even to this day.

But I remember when I saw that first post I was like, "Oh thank god, someone else also thought that!" It felt like before that there was scenes in their POV that only happened when I watched 3l because no one talked about them, or wrote them very differently to what happened. And I saw some other people saying the same thing. I think the post even got deleted a few days later, too. It seemed to me like a lot of people had quietly independantly come up with the interpretation as far back as 3l itself, but stayed quiet until recently to avoid upsetting anyone or we all thought we were the only ones who saw it that way. I know I tend to hesitate to write characters negatively because it feels a bit wrong to do that when the ccs are friends, even if I think it would be interesting. I wonder how many people feel that way also?

But I guess what I mean to say is it seems to me that a lot of people independantly have been thinking it since 3l or ll and the only reason it started popping up in dl is because it was the next big Jimmy ship from the big shipping season, and people werent really willing to even talk about it for a whole other season because they were scared of being seen as negative.

But!! I just really think it's neat, I really like this narrative for Scott and Jimmy. It's rare to be able to get stories where people have problems and break up and move on to new relationships and grow from them. It makes sense because they're the first season couple and they've grown further and further apart as seasons go on.

Even people I see who don't like fh don't seem to WANT to talk about it, they only bring it up when asked, and try to be respectful. Maybe I've not seen something happening somewhere else? I just wish I didn't have to spend most of my energy when writing quadruple checking that I'm not making Scott a bad guy and emphasising Jimmy's faults just so people reading know for certain I'm writing it this way because I'm legitimately interested in exploring this interpretation of them, and I'm not one of "those" writers. But I'm starting to wonder how many of "those" writers there actually are. (At the risk of comparing petty fandom drama to a serious topic, but it feels a lot like I'm back on 2016 tumblr assuring people I'm not one of "those" enbies or "those" aces, trying not to get pushed out.)

I'm guessing anyone who doesn't care for toxic fh probably already has you blocked, but if there is anyone like that who does see this: Hi! I also love flower husbands a lot! They just aren't my fluffy comfort ship, I like headcanoning them as divorced and imperfect because I think it makes them more interesting to write. I love being able to write characters who don't find the love of their life immediately but each relationship still shapes them into a new person. Sometimes I like to imagine their relationship as more mild and silly, and sometimes more dramatic and intense, I'm not a one-headcanon person! But their divorce is what really inspired me about them so I like writing about it. I don't want to stop anyone from enjoying them how they enjoy them and have no interest in making people who would be upset by my content to read it, so I try to tag it correctly! I'd like to be able to write my stories without walking on eggshells wondering if someone thinks I only wrote something I worked really hard on and cared a lot about just to spite them or because I'm secretly homophobic while writing about men kissing, just because my interpretation is different. It makes me scared to put Scott in my fics at all and contributed to my writers block for fics with them in it. I think Scott gets treated unfairly by certain people too, but that's not what I'm trying to do, I wouldn't write about him if I did!

(Also sorry if my paragraphs are strange, I'm not used to writing on mobile or pouring my thoughts out.)

Hi hello welcome back!! Please don't apologize I love long asks, especially long asks about scott smahor. The fact that you pulled up that toxic fh post and read it with a friend is so funny to me. Looking back, I wish I'd planned it out better and wrote it more eloquently, but I'm glad it brings people some sense of joy/entertainment/understanding. I hope you and your friend enjoyed it, even in an ironic sense.

It's endlessly entertaining (and fascinating) to me personally how every toxic fh believer seems to undergo the same-ish pipeline of watching the fh pov and being horrified --> looking at fanon fh and disengaging out of fear --> finding other toxic fh posters in the wild and suddenly realising you're not insane after all. I know I personally went into scott's pov expecting wholesomeness and ended up wide-eyed at what I saw before proceeding to slink FH into the back of my mind for awhile.

People tend to believe others operate like they do and I think that's where a lot of the discourse originates. Most of the louder voices I've seen that are very against the toxic interpretation are from people who primarily engage in bending the characters to fit specific concepts i.e. the "toxic jimmy" brainstorm that happened awhile back on here where interpretation is less a study and more confirmation bias-ing your way into making an idea work. Which I must reiterate is completely awesome because we're making fanfics here not nukes. But this leads people to assume that everyone who writes about toxic fh is going in with the mindset of "how do i interpret these moments so that scott is an abuser" and not "wow that thing i just watched sure kind of felt like domestic abuse"

Which like. YEAH, if there was a theoretical group of people who went out of their way to interpret everything scott did ever as evil and irredeemable, I too would assume that they had it out for the guy. But that's not what's happening, usually, afaik (at least on here, twitter's situation is a bit different due to the culture and would be its own beast for me to dissect and I honestly don't spend enough time on there to really feel confident making any statement).

For the record, I think a lot of people are on the same boat regarding FH being toxic and just simply don't care enough to voice/explore it, don't want to deal with the fandom nonsense that comes with it or would simply rather shift focus onto other pairs with similar themes. i.e. there is something going on with the toxic fh believer/ethubs shipper overlap I just know there is if anyone would like to do science with me it'd be awesome.

I know that I definitely focused my sights more on Scott and Pearl's relationship following my "wow that was sure something" watchthrough of scott's series, which is ironic considering I now base alot of my thoughts about their dynamic on scott's previous relationship with jimmy.

I think there's like. Something about the DL Pearl fans and the ranchers fans specifically who tended to communicate in code re: Scott's toxicity because for a long time all of us were afraid of saying it outright. So you get a lot of posts where Scott is like. A vaguely unpleasant force in the narrative while not really being a main focus himself, which I think may have contributed to the "ranchers fans only view scott as the villainous ex to push their ship harder" argument that I've seen a lot.

Once I realised from that one Shepscapades comic that there were others who saw the same plot I did, I would go out fishing for signs of agreement/acknowledgement. Hybbat if you're reading this, take this as my apology for sending you anon asks back in the day essentially trying to bait you into posting more FH slander, there was something deeply wrong with me (there still is, I'm just more upfront about it now I think).

There's also just this very like.. us vs them mentality very apparent in the way people talk about The Discourse that kinda sucks. Weirdly enough it's kind of shifted from toxic fh vs healthy fh to fh vs ranchers (or any other jimmy ship for that matter) nowadays. I can't talk on 2016 tumblr but regarding your last point (which I know isn't directed towards me but I think it's worth saying) -- would it matter if you Were one of THOSE fh writers? (or one of THOSE aces or THOSE enbies for that matter). You're not but like. Would it?

(side note rhetorical question do not answer i dont want to know but wtf did the aces/enbies even do lmao)

Not to get too away from the discourse cus I do my fair share of glazing on this blog already, but yes yes yes big agree on fh's storyline being amazing!! I love that we essentially watch them both have to live on after their mutually life-changing marriage.

Scott especially I love because in a lot of stories that feature an abuser they're painted as entirely evil and oftentimes disappear from the story once the relationship is over, but Scott doesn't and will never go anywhere. He's forced to grapple with his previous actions and the destructive way he thinks about himself and relationships has and continues to damage both himself and the people he loves. Just like how irl even when we wish abusers would just "go away" they will still continue being living people as they've always been, not a concept that will simply perish once you overcome the trauma. I love abusive characters who are fully written as human and think they're important. Is all.

[corpsebasil]

haiii!! can i request a dark ethan landry x reader fic where she accidentally discovers that hes ghostface and he scares and manipulates her from telling the rest of the group? im obsessedddd with your ethan fics btw <33

“Don’t move.”

You stilled, phone still clutched in your hand, your breathing heavy.

You felt the kiss of the knife before you saw it, Ethan slowly walking around to face you. You sat in your apartment, the text seconds from being sent. Ethan was Ghostface. Ghostface. The one who killed Anika, who—

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, chest tight as the blade settled against your neck. He only stared down, eyebrows furrowed, as he ran the sharp edge lightly against your skin.

“Don’t do what you want to do.” He warned, reaching out to pull your phone from your hand. “You don’t want to do that. And I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“Ethan.” You moved to stand, trying to ignore the blade pressed against your skin. “Ethan come on. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That I was Ghostface?” His dark laugh annoyed you more than scared you. “Don’t be dumb, sweetheart. You were just about to tell the rest of the group about me.”

“So they can stay the fuck away.” You snapped, standing fully and taking a step forward. He moved with you, the knife never slicing your skin completely, as you gestured to the black robes he wore. “I trusted you—“

“Big mistake.” He spat, and pressed harder. You felt the sting and grabbed his wrist, holding him back. You were so close now that his face was inches from your own and his eyes, those brown eyes you’d found yourself staring at far too many times, were fixated on you. “You’re not going to say anything.” He said, tossing your phone somewhere far behind him. “Because you’ll be dead if you do.”

Your breathing was shallow as you stared at him, eyeing the boy up and down. He was your friend. Your friend. Memories of the two of you raced through your mind, memories that you’d held close during the frightening events taking place around you. Like how at the Halloween party, when no one was watching, he’d pulled you into a forgotten hallway to kiss you until you felt dizzy. Or how he’d shown up at your house with takeout and flowers, embarrassed at having ‘taken advantage of you’ when you were drunk. His words, obviously.

And then how you’d kissed him on your couch, the couch behind you, to assure him you liked him.

But when you looked at him now, looked at him as the strength pushing against your grip was threatening to cut your throat open, all you felt was an intense heartbreak that made your eyes water.

“You said you loved me.” You whispered, blinking at his hateful expression. “You lied.”

“I didn’t lie, baby.” He rolled his eyes, moving closer, his hand finding your waist. “But I cant have you telling anyone about me.”

“I won’t.” You swore. You felt him pull you in closer, the cold blade still digging into your skin. “I won’t say anything. I know you won’t kill me.”

“And why is that?” He asked, raising a dark brow. “Because you think I want you?”

“I want you.”

“No. You’re an idiot for that.” He purred, smirking a bit as he eyed you. He already knew he’d won.

“I don’t care. I don’t care if you’re a killer, or a mad man, or anything—I love you as you are, and I want you. Whether you’re Ghostface or not, I still love you. I love you because you are mine. Because you love me and—”

His kiss was crushing, shoving you backwards onto the couch. As he threw his knife away, his hands held your hips in a bruising grip. His dark laugh was startling when he bit your lip, so hard it bled.

“Gonna be a good girl and keep my secret?” He asked, and his hand moved to your throat, crushing you down against the couch. You nodded, eyes wild, and he rolled his eyes. “So predictable baby.” He scoffed, kissing you again.

He had you wrapped around his finger, and fucking knew it.

[soireegurl]

heyyyy, can you do prompt eight and thirteen for riki and hoon ?

Thanks for requesting!!! Probably not what you expected but hope you'll like it!

"Ugh..." You groaned as you slowly opened your eyes.

It was dark...

But, you could still see the outline of the room.

This is definitely not your room.

You slowly sat up and held your head as it was hurting like hell.

"What the... I don't remember drinking... Or did I knock out again?"

You couldn't help but to think that you drank last night as you get really bad hang over after drinking.

There's no other way your head can hurt like this, right?

You got off the bed and tried to look for the switch.

You were walking aimlessly trying to find the switch until you finally touch something that feels similar.

"Ah hah... Found ya."

*tak!*

You turned on the switch and immediately closed your eyes due to the sudden change of light intensity.

You slowly got used to the bright light and took a look around the room.

This is not your room... Neither are any of your friends... So... What are you doing here?

You were confused but the most important thing now is to get out of here and find out whose house this is.

You went straight to the door. But before you opened it, someone beat you to it.

The door was opened from the outside.

What you saw next was a tall, young and masculine guy.

Not gonna lie, he's hot too.

"Uh... Hi? "

You started the conversation in the most awkward way possible.

"You're awake... How was you sleep?"

"Umm... It was pretty okay? I guess? But... Most importantly, who are you?where is this? And why am I here?"

You didn't forget that you are in some random person's house, and now seems to be this handsome looking man's house.

"You are in my house... Why are you here? You'll find out later. And about who I am, do you really not know me?"

You were confused by his words.

"Am I supposed to?"

After you said that, his facial expressions immediately dropped. But he quickly recovered and replied you.

"Hmm... I don't know... But we are from the same school... I thought.. you would have at least seen me somewhere somehow."

He sounded quite disappointed.

"I'm sorry... I uh... Don't really pay attention to others that much..."

He shrugged his shoulders and walked past you into the room.

"Of course you don't... Because all your attention is on that "lovely" boyfriend of yours isn't it..."

He sat down on the bed and looked at you straight into the eye.

You got taken aback by the strong gaze and immediately looked away.

"Maybe... I guess so.. haha..."

You awkwardly answered his question and started fidgeting.

"Urm... It's getting late, I should go. "

You turned around and got out of the room.

You don't know why, but you are not liking the vibe this guy is giving.

It feels... Dangerous...

And it makes you feel scared... For some reason, even though you have never seen him.

"I didn't say you could go."

You stopped in your tracks as those words left his mouth.

You turned around and gave him a questionable look

"I'm sorry what?"

"You are not leaving."

His voice was deep.

His eyes were dark.

As if satan lives in there.

"Urm, I am not listening to you... "

You just want to leave this place right now, this guy is not giving you any good vibes.

You quickly ran down stairs, towards the main gate.

You tried to open it, but unfortunately, it was locked.

There's no way you're opening this.

This is a fingerprint lock.

"Shit."

Now you finally realised what shit you got into.

"like I said, you are not leaving."

A voice appeared behind you. You turned around and saw that guy slowly walking down the stairs, his eyes never leaving you.

"Who are you? Are you locking me up in this house of yours?"

You are getting angry, ain't no way this guy just brought you here and now lock you up in this house.

"I'm just protecting you from this evil world."

He said as if this was normal.

"I don't need it, let me out! Or I'll call the police."

You said with full confidence but what he said next, slapped you in the face.

"Hahahaha... What are you gonna call with? Your bare hands?"

Right.

You have nothing with you right now.

In a split second he was already in front of you, eyes staring at you as if you are some kind of prey.

"Let's play a game Y/n.."

He said and let out an evil smile.

"I don't want to... Just let me out. "

"Aww... Why so mean." He said and let out a little pout.

But well, you have no choice but to accept this. You know? I have 100 and 101 ways to make you listen. "

His smile dropped in a split second which definitely scared you.

"What do you want."

"First game... Simon says. Let me start."

"Simon says... Break up with your boyfriend. You know that Park Sunghoon."

"What? Excuse me? I'm not doing that ."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. So now let me out! Stop this weird shit."

"Remember you asked me who I was?"

He took a few steps back and asked.

"Yes? But now I don't need to know. I just want to get out of here. "

He laughed a bit and started walking around the living room.

"Well, I'm gonna tell you... I think it'll be better if you know. "

"My name is Nishimura Riki... They know me as Niki... I'm one year younger than you. "

"Oh... Most importantly, I am the son of Nishimura Yuji."

Nishimura Yuji...

That sounds familiar.

Wait... Now it rings a bell.

"You... You are the son of the biggest mafia boss?"

You were shocked, but mostly scared. You have heard many stories about the Nishimura family... And none of them is good.

Niki smirked at your reaction.

"So Y/n... Do you want to play the game with me?"

" Or should we do it in a simpler way?"

"Break up with him, or I'll help you."

[rickgrimeswifey]

Secrets pt.3 - Negan Smith

—————————————————————————————

A/n: After what felt like a decade... it’s finally here. Sorry if you’ve been waiting for a long time :’^) If you haven’t already read the previous parts (or if you want to reread) then here they are part 1 and part 2. 

Category: ANGSTY, little smutty

Pairing: Negan Smith x fem!grimes!reader

Season: 8

Warnings: Violence, Rick is a sad guy, Negan type language, just some teasing from Negans side, some making out, not gonna put other warnings because it will spoil the plot

Word count: 9k

—————————————————————————————

It was early morning, and back at the Hilltop, Rick had barely gotten any sleep. He couldn’t sleep because all he could think about was if his daughter was alive and well. She could be laying in a ditch dead somewhere, if she did, Rick would feel like it was completely his fault. He kicked her out, he scared her away, he yelled at her. He made her think he didn’t ever want her to come back.

“Rick?” Michonne asked in a soft voice, Rick was putting up some boards in the room where Judith was going to be sleeping.

He didn’t look over his shoulder at Michonne, he just continued to hit the nail with the hammer.  He was putting the boards up over a broken window since they couldn’t fix it any other way.

“What’s going on with you?” Michonne asked softly, Rick didn’t give any response he just continued on like he didn’t hear her. “Where’s Y/n?” Hearing those words come out of someone's mouth made Rick tense up, he stopped what he was doing, the guilt and fear now consuming him.

“I don’t know...” he mumbled as a tear pushed past his waterline to then fall down his cheek lazily.

He scratched his scalp as he turned to Michonne, who was standing there confused.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asked, sounding concerned and a little bit irritated.

“I sent her away...” Rick sat down on the bed, more tears running down his face. “And now she might be dead... because of me.” He almost started to sob when he admitted it.

“Why would you do that?” Michonne was still very confused, but her concern for Y/n’s wellbeing was growing increasingly.  

“She... she slept with...” Rick stopped because he couldn’t finish his sentence, it felt disgusting and disturbing.

Michonne slowly walked over and sat down beside Rick, she grabbed his hand softly.

“With who?” Now she was also starting to get emotional, something deep down inside her already knew who Rick meant.

“Him...” Rick sighed. “Negan.” A tear fell slowly from Michonne's eye, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Fury also started to grow rapidly inside her, although the concern for Y/n’s well being devoured it in a second. Her breathing was shaky, it was dangerous now more than ever out there. The war with The Saviors was more intense than ever.  

“Now, I have no idea if she’s even alive or ever coming back, maybe she’s lost...” Rick started sobbing, making Michonne out of reflex hug him tightly.

“She’s okay...” she comforted him. “She has to be.” Another tear fell from her eye. “We can’t lose two children in a week.”

-

The window in Negan's room didn’t have its curtains pulled down, which made bright sunlight burn its way onto Y/n’s eyelids. She flattered her eyes open softly to then squeeze them shut quickly when the sun burned into her eyes. Y/n turned around so that she was laying with Negan right in front of her. She rubbed her eyes before opening them, she furrowed her eyebrows. Negan wasn’t there, the bed was empty.

Y/n sighed remembering what happened last night. She sat up in his king sized bed and stretched. Y/n looked around the room, there was nothing. She had no idea where he was until the sound of a door opening was heard. Negan came out of the bathroom, his expression changing in a second when he saw Y/n.  

“Morning sunshine,” he joked, smiling like an idiot. “Sleep well?”

“It was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.” Y/n softly smiled back at him as she spoke with a raspy morning voice.  

“Great,” he clapped, then rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Because we have a big day in front of us today, get dressed.” Negan said and pointed to some clothes that were laying on the leather armchair, folded nicely.  

Y/n stood up from the bed, getting help from Negan to walk over to the piece of furniture. She looked at them and recognized it immediately. Thank god, she thought. It was her clothes that she wore yesterday when he’d found her. Her t-shirt was damaged from when her arm got injured but it wasn’t a big deal. Some grass stains were still there on her jeans although she didn’t really care. Everyone has stains from dirt and grass on their pants nowadays. Negan had even washed her underwear, what a gentleman. She moved the clothes to the table then sat down in the soft chair. Slowly putting on her jeans, careful to not harm her ankle more. It was very sore but didn’t ache as much today. Y/n put on her bra under Negan's t-shirt that she was currently wearing, not being completely comfortable with being naked in front of him.  

“Aw honey,” he pouted slightly from where he was sitting on his couch. “I wanted a show.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes when she pulled the shirt over her head. She had clasped her bra and now put the strands on her shoulders. Negan sent her an amused look because of the view he was getting. Y/n ignored him and put on her t-shirt. She grabbed her shoes that were in front of the armchair, quite literally right under her nose.

“I washed your shoes too, but in a separate washer.” Negan said. “You are just a very dirty girl, aren’t you?” he taunted, making her flustered.

“So, what are we doing today?” Y/n chose to ignore his comment meanwhile heat was spread through her cheeks. “You said it was a big day for us.”

“Yeah, I have some major business to handle here. You know, the big guy has been gone for a day. People think they can just do whatever they want as soon as I’m not there.” He talked like he was going to laugh but his eyes were almost flaming with fire.

“...Something happened?” Y/n asked cautiously, she didn’t want to poke the bear.

“Yeah, yeah something sure as hell happened.” Negan said quite irritated although it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Y/n.    

“What happened Negan?...” She asked quietly with a very soft voice.

Negan just stared at her for a moment, with one of those looks that made you wonder about what he was going to do next. There was no way to tell. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t looking pissed either. He just looked neutral with his eyebrows furrowed as if he was thinking.

“You know the garbage queen?” Negan asked, Y/n nodded. “Well, apparently Simon went over there and lined all of them up, to then have saviors shoot them all until they died. But, Jadis survived and told me all about it. From the beginning they were just gonna go over there to kill one, because the garbage people betrayed us, but Simon broke the rules only because I wasn’t there.” He explained, it looked like it pained him, it certainly made him pissed off, you could clearly tell by just glancing at him.

“Negan... that’s horrible...” Y/n sighed not knowing what else to say, what he had just told her sounds like what only an insane person would do.

“What’s worse is that Dwight warned me that Simon has been building a little club to try and kill me,” he sighed. “I’m going to have to kill him, but I’ll give him a chance to live.”

“A chance? How? What kind of chance?” Y/n asked to which Negan only answered with a mysterious shrug.

“You’ll see...”

“What-” Y/n breathed out confused, furrowing her eyebrows.

A firm knock on the door caused the two to break the eye contact they were currently maintaining. Negan stood up and walked over to the door, he opened it and outside stood Dwight and Arat.

“Simon called the group for a meeting in five minutes, snipers are ready on the roofs and everything else is set up.” He informed his leader. “We just gotta get everyone else in position.”

“Great, thanks D.” Negan thanked before turning to face Y/n, he put his index and middle finger up beside each other and motioned for her to stand up.

Y/n stood up with a shoe in her hand on the other on her right foot, since she couldn’t walk on her sprained ankle.

“Arat, help the lady to the main floor and then come outside and get in position.” Negan ordered Arat, who immediately stepped forward to let Y/n put her arm around her shoulder. “I want everyone to see me being reasonable by giving Simon a second chance.”

He grabbed Lucille before walking off with Dwight. Arat started walking with Y/n  out of Negan's room.

“Hey,” Y/n said immediately capturing Arats attention. “What does he mean by giving Simon a second chance?” She asked.

Arat shook her head. “No, nobody really knows with him. I mean you could guess but you’re probably not getting it right anyway.” She closed the door to Negan's bedroom behind them.

-

“Have you read it yet?” Michonne asked from her position in the doorway when Rick looked down into the drawer where he’d put Carl's letter.

“No...” he mumbled quietly.

“You should... Carl wants you to... that’s why he wrote them...” she said gently.

Rick just stared down at the letter laying in his hand.

“I know...” He whispered and his voice cracked. “I can’t lose another one of my babies Michonne...” Tears fell from his eyes as he spoke.

“I know Rick...” she sighed. “Remember Y/n is a smart, sweet and very tough girl, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Carl was tough too...” Rick said sadly. “He was also very brave and sweet...”

Rick couldn’t help but to start sobbing again. Michonne was quick to comfort him. She wrapped her arms around him from his side while Rick cried with his hand to his face.

“I really think you should read your letter... it’ll be good for you... Rick, you need it.” Michonne told him a little more stern this time.

Rick just nodded, his glassy eyes mirroring pure pain.

“Go outside... here on the second floor onto the balcony where no one is and read it, you won’t be distracted.” Michonne said softly while she rubbed his upper arm with her hand. “I’ll finish the windows.”

Rick slowly walked out onto the balcony, dragging his feet behind him. Already on the verge of tears he sat down in the shadows, avoiding the burning sun. A tear fell from Rick's eye one again as he began reading Carl's letter. He had written about how he remembered school, Lori, going to the movies, Friday night pizza him and Y/n used to love, grandma and grandpa, church and cartoons. Just overall things that made Carl happy back in the day. Ricks heart hurt more and more the further he got into the letter. Especially when he read that Carl remembered that Rick used to tell him about the walks they used to take when Carl was three around the neighborhood all the way down to a farm. How Rick would hold Carl's hand and make him feel safe, special and happy. The guilt came back when he read the line “I thought growing up was about getting a job and a maybe a family. But growing up is making yourself and the people you love safe. As safe as you can, cause things happen.” A tiny soft smile had grown on Ricks lips as he read about how Carl told him he wish he could make Rick feel like he did when he was three, holding his hand.

The little peace Rick felt for a second had now been wiped away completely as well as the small smile was long gone as soon as Rick read the name ‘Negan’ in the letter. Carl tells him about the innocent workers, giving the people in there a chance and trying to make peace with The Sanctuary overall. Rick threw his head back against the wooden pole he was sitting by and sighed when he read this. Rick's lips parted in disbelief when he read the next few sentences, a small gasp of utter shock leaving his body, the tears instantly rushing back.

“Dad, there is something you need to know. When you find out about this or if you already have. I just need you to be able to forgive and forget because who knows how much time left she has? I didn't. If you know what I’m talking about, I know you must’ve been furious when you found out, I was. But dad please don’t be mad at her or do anything stupid without thinking. When she told me about it, I started yelling whatever I could at her, then I even threw some things across my room back in Alexandria. I need you to forgive her, please. And give her a hug from me and take her on one of those walks, please.”

Rick's heart ached, his breathing pace faster than ever. Panic rising quickly in his chest.

“No...” he sobbed. “No, no, no...!”

Rick knew exactly what Carl had written about, it was Y/n. What she had done, what Carl wanted Rick to do when he found out. If he had only had that letter earlier. If Y/n was dead, Rick would never heal knowing he’d let Carl and her down. He would never be able to sleep again. If he never found her, that would drive him mad. Rick hurried up to go out and look for her when he bumped into Michonne in the hallway on the second floor.

“Rick?” she asked, noticing how shook up he was.

“Carl knew.” Rick sighed. “I need to find her, I can’t let them both down like this.” He sobbed.

“Rick.” Michonne said sternly, catching his attention. “What happened?”

He showed the letter to her and pointed to the last part. He could hear Michonne's breathing increasing rapidly and how she lost her breath from time to time.

“I’ll go look for her.” She said, also wanting to read this letter to Negan. “You stay here Rick, the community needs you.” Michonne wiped his tears, the look on his face was extremely distressed and freaked her out a bit. “Okay?” she whispered.

“Okay...” Rick whispered back softly.

-

Outside by the fence Dwight was standing and tapping his foot against the concrete. He had his arm on a container as he leaned against it. He paced around in a circle, feeling nervous. What if Simon found out what he was really up to. He was basically setting this man up to be beaten to death by Negan himself.

A group of saviors came out of the exit underneath the stairs with yellow metal railing meanwhile Simon came out of the door on top of it where the yellow metal railing was on the stairs made out of stone with more saviors behind him.

“Hey,” a savior called out to Dwight. “Some shit, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dwight drawled.

“Gotta think uh, you wanted this before we did.” The man said to Dwight who knew exactly what he was referring to.

He didn’t answer, he just dragged his thumb under his eye, lightly scratching it. Simon stepped up to Dwight, looking him sternly in the eyes before turning his gaze to the other saviors.

“If you’re here right now,” Simon began and let out a small sigh. “You’re in. We can talk about approaches and finesses but you are in.” He turned around looking at Dwight as he said the last few words. “No take backs.” Dwight stared at the ground not wanting to look up. “We need to make this quick, quiet and respectful. Man’s done a lot for us, he deserves that.” Simon looked around the group before his gaze landed on Dwight once again, he raised his finger and pointed at him before starting to talk once again. “You have some legitimate personal issues with the man.” He took one step towards Dwight. “The kill is yours if you want it, something quiet, I mean not a knife.” Simon chuckled to himself. “Can’t make it that personal... silencer?” He backed up from Dwight and started pacing around in circles looking around at each group member. “We called a meeting, and that’s it. The next order of business is to set the brake to start the healing. The catalyzing event to facilitate that is the destruction of the Hilltop and its residents. We’ll make it a monument of compliance, sorry Gregory. And then we get on with our lives,” Simon stopped going in his circles and stepped up to Dwight again. “Right Dwight?” He asked.

Dwight looked up from the ground at him before whistling the classic savior whistle, Simon's facial expression went from confusion to a mix of anger and fear when Negan came out from behind the container, whistling. He took Lucille into his other hand that was gloved and placed his bare one on Dwights shoulder.

“Thank you, D.” He praised, keeping his pretty relaxed gaze on Simon. “I’ll take it from here.” Negan said in a dangerously calm tone.

Simon kept his gaze on Dwight, it was now full with fury and wonder. Negan kept his gaze on Simon, a hint of disappointment in his dark eyes.

“Three,” he began counting, making Simon move his gaze to him. “Two,” Negan continued on counting down. “One.” He said, directly after all the saviors in this little group were shot to death, except Simon and Gregory.

Simon flinched then looked around trying to see where the shots were fired from. Arat and another savior came out behind a van. The gun in her hand gripped tightly, aiming directly at Simon's head. He turned from art and looked back at Dwight as two other saviors came onto his left side, taking his weapons. Simon stood still before launching forward to try and get a hold of Dwight but the two saviors pulled him back, and then held him still.

Simon trying to attack Dwight brought a smug grin to Negan's face, he let out a breathy chuckle before speaking; “Now there is the Simon that I know, comes right at ya.Instead of that backstabbing bullshit.” He walked past him while talking.

Although Simon only still kept his gaze on Dwight, he couldn’t believe it. Why would he do this...

“Why?” he asked through gritted teeth. “After everything he did to you, huh?” Simon spat nodding his head to Negan by the mention of him, keeping his jaw clenched so tight that you could see the veins popping out on his throat. “Why do this?”

“He’d win.” Dwight said simply.

Negan stood a foot away from Simon beside him and those two saviors. He had a smug look on his face because of what Dwight said before turning more stern. Simon is still just staring at Dwight furiously, refusing to break off the eye contact with him.

“You killed all the garbage people Simon...” Negan reminded, before turning around and gathering some strength before crushing one of the dead former saviors heads’ with Lucille, the sound of her crushing their skull making Simon flinch. Negan turned around to look at him before speaking his next line. “After I specifically told you not to do that shit.” He gathered his strength again and crushed another skull. The sound of it makes Simon close his eyes and think that he might be next to face Lucille. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring since he was so pissed at Dwight. “I got a sneaking suspicion that you were hoping I was dead.” Negan bashed another skull, Simon still keeping his intense gaze on Dwight. “Rick kamikaze that convoy. The Hilltop? Yeah...” Negan asked before bashing a final skull in. “All is not forgiven.” He spat.

Negan turned around from the corpse and stood waiting for Simon to look at him. When he didn't, the saviors turned him around with much force. As they turned him around he still glared at Dwight as if he wanted to beat him to death.

“Why?” Negan asked. “After all this and me being me,” he moved his tongue in between his teeth slowly staring at the angry man in front of him. “I’m still gonna give you your shot.” Negan walked up straight into Simon's face making him straighten his back to look bigger and try and assert his dominance.

Negan stepped even more up in his face before straightening his back, looking directly into Simon's eyes. “You wanna be the man you gotta beat the man...” He informed me by looking at the man in front of him with a dangerous look.  “You can do that, hell you should be the man.” Negan challenged, a smug smirk growing on his lips.

Simon leant forward and slimmed his eyes down looking at his former leader. His chest rising up and down rapidly. Eyebrows furrowed and jaw tightly clenched. Ready to battle for leadership.

Y/n was standing in the staircase above the main floor, in front of the exit. Where she stood it wasn’t high up. It was just above the first flight of stairs that were connected to the first floor. There were more stairs to get to the top but she guessed this is where Negan wanted her, with a plain view over all the workers. This was actually the exact place Negan and Carl had stood before, when he was getting his tour around the Sanctuary.

She felt uneasy when she noticed how the saviors were staring at her, some of the workers too. It was just because she was Rick the pricks daughter. They knew she was, last time she was here the word had gotten around with the saviors that she was a part of the Grimes family.

Suddenly the doors to the exit beneath her flew open. In through then came SImon and two saviors that were holding him. They then let him go once he was right in sight of Y/n on the first floor. Behind came Negan walking slowly, stopping a fair amount of distance in front of Simon. Rows of saviors piled up behind him, making him look like the bigger man. Simon didn’t have anyone standing close behind him, there were just workers standing at their stations watching completely flabbergasted. The look on Simon's face made a pit full of anxiety make itself at home in Y/n’s stomach. She realized what the two of them were about to do. They were about to fight to the death. This could go horribly wrong. If Simon succeeded to win he would probably kill her then go and attack the Hilltop. He was crazy, just wanted to hurt people.

Negan stood with his head slightly leant back and so was the rest of his body. He had his arms down loosely crossed by his abdomen, Lucille gripped lazily in one of his hands. His back was to Y/n so she couldn’t see his face. Although, he hadn’t said a thing so she knew he was just staring at SImon waiting for him to make a move.

Everything and everyone was quiet, no one dared to make a sound, watching what was about to happen. Y/n’s gaze landed on Gregory, he looked nervous and Dwight did too. She didn’t blame them though, she was nervous too. This could all go wrong or good, no in between. Simon turned slowly to look at all the workers and saviors before he shouted out;

“Everyone! After this is done,” He continued on shouting while taking off his camo green jacket. “We get to work!” SImon threw his jacket onto the floor beside him. “Just know that I didn’t want this!” he yelled before making eye contact with Y/n for a moment.

She felt even more anxiety washing over her features when he gave her a look that told her that he would without a doubt, kill her and everyone she cared about if he won this fight.

“But The Sanctuary must stand!” He broke off the gaze with Y/n before it finally landed on Negan, rolling up the sleeves of his dark gray shirt. “This is not the man to prosecute this conflict!” He said walking closer and closer to Negan, with every step making Y/n lose her breath more and more.

What Simon was saying brought a challenging and smug smirk to Negan's face. He couldn’t believe this guy, being his best man for years then he just became some traitor and now wants to kill him.

“Just wanted to say...” Simon began making silly gestures with his arms and head before turning around to look around at the crowd of people. “A grateful enclave thank you!” he fumed, turning around and hitting Negan in the face, making him fall to the ground.

Y/n gasped, just hoping that Negan would get up. He sat up but was punched in the face again by Simon and fell back down. He grabbed Negan by his leather jacket and put him on his feet, to then punch him once again to make him fall over. This time when Simon ran at him and was trying to tackle Negan to the floor, he was ready. He caught Simon and elbowed him in the neck then threw him onto the floor. Y/n stood watching, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Negan didn’t go straight back in to attack him again, he stood and paced slowly as Simon got up and let out a growl then he ran at Negan again. He grabbed his leather jacket again, Negan tried to get his hands off but Simon threw a punch in his face.

The saviors stood completely emotionless and watched as multiple more punches were heard. Y/n stood bent over the metal stair rail watching with a hand over her mouth so that her gasps wouldn't be heard by anyone else. SImon swung at Negan but he dodged it, he was about to grab Simon but he was quicker and got ahold of his ear. This time Negan managed to get his grip off of him and push him away, he then punched Simon right in his face four times in a row. He was about to throw a punch back but Negan dodged it and stepped to the side. Both of the men were red in their faces, growing weaker and weaker for each hit. SImon was more hurt than Negan at the moment, therefore he was slower and weaker. The two men were both breathing heavily and panting.

Simon ran at Negan and grabbed onto his jacket again, he immediately grabbed ahold of his hands to get him off. This time he succeeded but then Simon tried to tackle him to the ground. Negan gripped his shirt and lifted him up from his position, he headbutted Simon and swept his feet so that he fell onto the floor. Negan walked up to him and kicked him in his face as he laid there, he beat him a couple more times before getting on top and starting to choke him. Y/n felt relieved knowing Negan had already won when SImon first fell to the floor. She noticed how Dwight brought Gregory aside then saw Gregory run away. She furrowed her eyebrows at Dwight when he came back in sight, he just cleared his throat and looked away from her.

“You went for it all at the hilltop.” Negan spat at Simon. “You got saviors killed, and then you ran away like a coward!” he yelled. “You got shown up one too many times, those people they are always gonna know that there’s a loophole, a way to skate they’re always gonna be looking, they’re always gonna look for that chance to push back, so...” Negan was whisper-shouting at Simon before raising his voice out of fury. “Now I gotta kill all of em’, just like I gotta kill you!”

You could hear the bones in Simon's neck cracking as Negan squeezed as much as he could, it was a very disgusting and disturbing sound. She heard what he’d shouted and some of what he’d said and felt nervousness washing over her, maybe he was going to kill her. Maybe Negan didn’t give a shit about her. She stood frozen watching as he let go of Simon's throat and stood up, getting a chance to breathe properly. He was breathing heavily trying to catch his breath as he looked around before looking back down at Simon. He rolled his tongue against his bottom row of teeth, before sighing shortly.

“What an asshole.” Negan said to all the people around him.

He walked through the crowd to the stairs that led to where Y/n was currently standing. She was still bent over the railing, just watching Simon's corpse along with everyone else. Negan came up behind her and watched her position before walking up even closer to her. He tucked her hair behind her ear and leant into it.

“See what I just did darlin’?” he whispered, voice completely calm after he had just been shouting and fighting for his life.

“Mhm...” she hummed, not looking away from Simon.

He placed two of his fingertips on her jaw then pushed her head in his direction, making her look at him. Y/n looked into his eyes, starting to calm down once she noticed that he wasn’t angry anymore. He just licked his lips, looking at her hungrily as usual. She then noticed the cuts and bruises on his face, he had started bleeding from some wounds.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding.” She stuck her hand out to touch his face.

He grabbed her wrist softly before she could touch his injuries.

“I know, he had a pretty fucking good right hook...” Negan sighed looking over at Simon.

“Let me clean it up.” Y/n offered and nodded her head in the direction of his room.

A smirk grew on his face, she knew exactly what he was thinking about as he looked her up and down. He picked her up bridal style again, he still thought it took too much time when he helped her walk. She let out a surprised squeal when he swooped her up. Negan then walked to his room, leaving all the other people behind. He had already told the others what to do with Simon's corpse when he was finished with him.

Once they got to his room, Negan put her down by the couch so that she could support herself. He walked and pulled out a drawer where he pulled out some supplies she’d need to fix him up.

“You’ve got the whole kit here in your room?” Y/n asked as she watched him place it on the coffee table in front of the leather couch before taking a seat.

“Yeah, even a badass like me catches a punch or two from time to time.” Negan jokes, winking at her.

She just sat down on the couch beside him and grabbed a cotton pad. He studied her moves as she prepared the cotton to go on his face. She placed her hand on the couch beside his stomach for balance as she got up on knees to then place her hand under his chin. She angled his head so that she could clean the first cut on his cheekbone. He had his head turned to the left and she pressed the cotton down onto his skin making him let out a short hiss from the stinging sensation.

“Sorry...” she mumbled, deeply lost in focus.

Y/n was looking intensely at his wounds as she cleaned him up, Negans burning gaze going completely unnoticed by her. By the time she had gotten to the last bleeding injury, Y/n had leant forward so that Negan could feel her breath on his face. His eyes flicked down onto her lips meanwhile she was preoccupied with a cut that was right over his left eyebrow. Negan admired how beautiful she looked while doing all of this, he could tell that she cared for him. That was a huge advantage on his part and more of a curse on her side. He could tell by the look on her face that there wasn’t anything else in her mind but him right now. Nothing about her father or about what had happened in the shower last night, it was just him and only him. It made him feel special in some type of way. He still couldn’t help but to get insanely turned on by the way her lips were almost on his while she patched him up or the way her hand was close to his crotch when she lost balance and had to grip onto his thigh to avoid falling onto him.

She leant back and checked out his face to see if there was anything else to patch up. Negan studied how her eyes flicked over his features and she traced her finger along his face while whispering to herself if she was done or not with the spot her fingertip was brushing over.

“All done...” Y/n removed her hands from his face and placed them on her thighs.

She put away the things she had been disinfecting his wounds with then turned to look at him again. Negan was just staring at her before a wide grin broke out across his smug face.

“Is it just me or did that feel awfully a lot like foreplay?” Negan smirked while letting out a breathy chuckle, watching how she grew all flustered.

Y/n looked around the room as if she was searching for an exit. She hated how her body reacted when he said something like that. Even though she knew how much everyone she loved hated him she couldn’t help the heat pooling in her underwear. She looked up innocently at him, his gaze flicking down at her lips then back up into her eyes.

She leaned in and put her soft plump lips against his, feeling his stubble itching against her skin ticklishly. Negan grunted and put his hand under her tit before sliding it up and groping it, earning a gasp from Y/n. When she separated her lips he slid his tongue inside, they didn’t fight for dominance since Y/n just let Negan take the lead. She was intensely submissive to him, that was something she’d never say out loud or admit to anyone. He felt her up while they made out and Y/n snaked her arms around his neck, pulling Negan closer to her. She wanted to feel him close, as close as they’ve been she’d never been with anyone else. She loved being that close, he made her feel so good and special. Negan had her wrapped around his finger.

Before things got too heated Negan broke off the kiss. Now their foreheads were pressed against each other, both of them breathing heavily. He had known about Dwight's backstabbing bullshit too, just not told him. Laura had come back to the sanctuary and revealed it for Negan, Dwight had made everyone believe that Rick's group attacked them and he was the last one standing. But Dwight had been in on the attack and shot at some saviors himself. So Negan made him think that he didn’t know about this and while they were in a meeting he’d made up a plan to trick Rick's people and kill them all. He knew Gregory had run off with the fake plan when he killed Simon and that Dwight had given it to him. Now their enemies would fall straight into their trap. His next move was to do the real plan which would trick Rick's people and lead them right into Negan’s palm, and that’s where he wanted them. Now he had to throw Dwight into a cell again and punish him or kill him. No, he wanted Rick's people to know what happens when you try to fool Negan. If he was going to succeed to kill Rick he wanted Y/n to reunite with her father first, he wasn’t that cruel. Although, he couldn’t tell her about any of this since she would surely rat him out. He understood the meaning of protecting family and didn’t blame her for it. But right now, she needed to get out of here, he didn’t want her to see the torture that happens in the cell and what was about to go down here.

“I’ve got something for you,” Negan said as he stood up from the couch.

Y/n followed him with her eyes around the room, watching when he got a pair of car keys from his bedside table. He walked up to her and dangled it in front of her face.

“Here,” he offered. “You need to go back to your dad, he must be thinking you’re dead by now.”

Y/n cocked an eyebrow at Negan, trying to understand what was going on. Did he actually care for her and was sincere or was it because her dad had just lost his other child?

“The car’s out in the back, the people at the gate will let you out.” Negan informed her, she just nodded while he talked and took the keys gently from his hand.

She didn’t dare to question why he was doing this, she wanted to believe it was because he was gonna go easier on her dad and cared for her. She refused to believe otherwise, she needed the comfort of that scenario.

“Thank you...” she breathed out before standing up.

Y/n walked past Negan but he snaked his arm around his waist and turned her back.

“Really think I was gonna let you go without a kiss, doll?” He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her.

There was the Negan she knew, the cocky and always semi turned on one. Y/n stood up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Negan looked at her daringly, did she just tease him?

“Come on baby,” he said with a sly smirk before leaning in. “You call that a kiss?” His warm breath on her lips almost made her moan on the spot.

Negan slowly placed his lips on hers. His lip on top, already dominating her just from the position of his lips. He wrapped his arm around her lower back pressing her hips into his pelvis. Negan kissed her harder and harder for each second. Y/n felt her underwear getting damp as soon as Negan first placed his lips on hers. He pulled away and smirked at her.

“That’s what I call a goodbye kiss.” Negan whispered sensually.

He removed his arm around her back and Y/n took her leave. She limped through the big building before finally finding the car at the back. Y/n got in and turned the car on, it started easily. The only thing on her mind right now was her father who was probably losing his mind. She felt bad about not returning for a day although he had told her not to come back. He must have been worried shitless once he thought through what he’d done. Although, a part of Y/n was scared because she didn’t know if her father would be happy to have her back or not. She was about to find out, because here she was pulling up to the Hilltop. The guards noticed the car watching it uncertainly. Y/n understood their suspicion of the unfamiliar car and stuck her head outside the window. She waved at Jerry and he smiled warmly at her. They opened the gate for her and she slowly drove inside. The people at the Hilltop all watched suspiciously not knowing who was in the unknown car.

Y/n looked around from inside the car, she couldn’t see her father anywhere. He must be inside, she thought. When she stepped out of the car all the civilians thought nothing about the car anymore as soon as they saw that it was Y/n Grimes. Everyone went back to work while she started limping in the direction of the main building. She hadn’t figured out a story of what to tell her father about her foot but if he was happy or angry to see her, the first thing he’d notice wasn’t going to be her foot.

She stepped inside the old museum, there he was. Standing at the top of the stairs with his head in his hands. Y/n stood watching him for a moment needing to read his body language to try and make out what he was feeling. Poor guy looked like he was stressing himself to death. It took courage for Y/n to try and speak up so that her father would hear, even when she got the word out it was just a faint whisper;

“Dad...”

Rick slowly looked up from his hands, the look on his face looked as if he was trying to figure out if his head was messing with him or not. Then he saw her. The two maintained eye contact, his eyes began watering before he practically flew down the long flights of stairs. Rick ran to Y/n who was still standing in the same spot, he stopped in front of her and a couple of tears rolled down his cheek.

“You’re here, you’re alive, my baby...” he sobbed quietly to himself.

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her dad into a hug. She laid her head against his chest hearing how his heart beat. Rick had his arm wrapped around her back and the other stroking her hair. He mumbled various things into her hair while holding her tight. The things being stuff such as I love you, I thought you were dead, I’m sorry and I forgive you. Once he let go after a couple of minutes that’s when he began scanning her body for any signs of hurt. His eyes got stuck on her arm where she had a bandage and her foot that also was bandaged.

“What happened to you?” he asked softly.

Y/n frowned and huffed before asking if they could step into a separate room so that she could tell him what had happened. He helped her into Gregory’s old office and closed the door after them. The two were alone standing face to face, Y/n felt how she needed to take a deep breath before giving her dad the story of what had happened.

“Dad...” she began after a long sigh of uncertainty. “I fell and hurt my arm and ankle pretty badly... then when it started to become night I was walking on the road and this car rolled up beside me... then... I... I-” she grew extremely frustrated with herself because she couldn’t tell her father the news that would be devastating for him to hear again, Y/n knew though that she had to tell him.

“What happened sweetheart?” Rick stepped forward and cupped her face, looking into her sorrowful eyes sweetly.

Y/n teared up, she couldn’t do it. He was so happy to see her and she just couldn’t ruin this moment. She gathered all the bravery she’d ever had and spoke quietly;

“It was Negan...”

Rick's expression immediately changed, it was now a mix between relief and disgust. A touch of anger too, the relief of seeing his daughter again starting to slowly fade away as his hatred was stronger than ever.

“Did he do something to you?” Rick whispered daringly, not knowing what he’d do if she said yes.

“I- no... not really... he was actually kind of nice.” She met her fathers cold look, it scared her what would happen if she told him what had happened. “He took me to the sanctuary and had the doctor check up on me... and then...” she gulped nervously. “...I got a bed to sleep on.” Y/n mentally facepalmed, what was wrong with her? “Then the next day he killed Simon in front of everyone... brutally...” she looked up at her dad, the sight haunted her a little now and then. It wasn’t the coziest thing she’d witnessed. “Not much happened after that.. except that he gave me a car to go here.”

Rick took deep breaths listening to his daughter trying his hardest to be calm and comfort her. He saw that it upset her a lot, the thing about Simon or at least that was what he thought she was upset about. He brought her into a tight hug again, squeezing harshly in fear of her disappearing again.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” He whispered into her ear with a smile on his face.

After a while Rick told Y/n about the plan Gregory had arrived with here at Hilltop. She confirmed that Dwight had given it to him since Daryl refused to believe that he would actually try to help, even after he shot his own people. No one could blame him though since Dwight had literally tortured Daryl.

They had all made a plan with the map and made different teams. Everyone had different colors and this plan was going to take place the next day.

Back at the sanctuary Negan was standing outside leant against the yellow railing. He was looking over at Simon who had turned into a walker, chained to the fence. He looked around with a frown on his face.

Suddenly his walkie talkie starts going off.

“Negan, it’s Michonne.” Was heard faintly.

He picked up the electronics and looked onto the fence again, wondering if he should talk to her or not.

“I’ll wait.” Michonne said letting Negan know that she wanted to talk to him.

He waited a couple of seconds before bringing the walkie talkie up to his mouth. “One with the dreads? Sword? Is that you? Rick there with you? Why don’t you put him on?”

“There isn’t about Rick.” Michonne bit at him, she was standing on top of a roof so that she’d have connection with Negan since she couldn’t be inside the Sanctuary. “It’s about my kids.”

Negan began thinking again for himself about what she’d want about her kids if it wasn’t just about Y/n, who should have arrived home by now.

“First off, do you know where Y/n is?”

He furrowed his brows, hadn’t she gotten home?

“She was here since last night, found her on the side of the road-”

“What did you do to her?” Michonne interrupted him with a threatening tone.

“Me? I didn’t do anything bad... I picked her up on the side of the road, she was hurt. Fixed her up, fed her and gave her a bed to sleep on.”

“Where is she now?” The concern in her voice was still there and was beginning to be replaced by irritation from talking to such an obnoxious man.

“I gave her a car to go home, she should be there by now.”

Silence. Michonne was silent after that for a minute. Negan began thinking if she was done speaking until he heard her voice again through the small electronic.

“Carl wrote you a letter... and I’m delivering it because that’s what he wanted.”

Negan felt the consuming feeling of anxiety fall over him from the thought of the boy’s death. He was a bit upset over it but he couldn’t let his walls down because of it.

“Well,” he said, a little more upbeat. “I can’t promise not to kill the messenger.”

“Just shut up and listen.” She demanded strictly.

Negan kept quiet because he wanted to respect the dead boy’s letter to him specifically. He went on and listened to the letter until Michonne was done. The letter was about peace and starting over. The two exchanged some words about Negan not backing down and then Michonne left.

The rest of the day went by fast. Michonne arrived home again and reunited with Y/n, they had a long talk about Negan and she still didn’t tell her stepmom about the second time. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

The next day they were divided into different colored teams and were going out to a field where a battle was going to take place. Y/n walked hand in hand with her father, it felt like those walks he’d taken Carl on when he was younger. They both had purple colored fabric tied around their arm along with Michonne. Every different color had its different assignment.

Even though when they got there it seemed as if their color system wouldn’t matter when they realized they had walked into a trap. The saviors had set them up. Negan's voice boomed through a megaphone and all of the saviors were out of sight. He talked about a clean house and how he was going to kill everyone. He also said that he wanted Rick and his group to find them and that they should just pick a way to run since they’d be there everywhere.

Eventually they found themselves surrounded by the saviors, everyone had a gun pointed to their head. Y/n stood with a savior behind her, looking up at Negan and Eugene. Dwight was also there in a cell outfit, guess he did try and help them after all.

The two locked eyes and Negan immediately told the savior behind her to put his gun down and just hold her in place, he didn’t want her to die. He just wanted her all for himself. Which he would have after this was done, what needed to be done, according to his mind.

Y/n looked at her father with pleading eyes while Negan counted down, holding a gun up to Gabriels head who had been at the Sanctuary held captive the last couple of days. ‘I love you’ she mouthed to him and he nodded towards her before mouthing back ‘I love you too’. She felt tears of panic begin rolling down her face when Negan said one.

Loud bangs were heard from around them, but no one of their own team fell down. Negan yelled in pain as his hand had been shot by his own gun. Something had happened to the saviors' guns as some fell down from catching a bullet in the face and others just being scratched.

“Eugene!” Negan roared loudly but was cut off as he walked towards him by a punch in the face delivered by Gabriel.

The savior who held Y/n began trying to wrestle her onto the ground as everyone began fighting. She tried to fight back even though the man had a tight grip on her arms. Negan had run away with her father right behind him. They were going to settle this one final time.

Soon enough the man behind her let go with a loud scream. Blood poured out as Michonne had cut his arm off with her sword. “Don’t touch her.” She spat through gritted teeth before killing him.

They gave each other a nod before looking around, seeing the saviors that remained all beginning to surrender when they saw that Rick had caught up to Negan and they were now fighting.

Y/n recognized one of the saviors who remained, it was Arat. She quickly turned her head back to her fathers fight and watched along with everyone else. It looked as if Negan was winning for a while until Rick kicked him and made him fall down. They began talking and Negan stopped for a few seconds after Rick said something. A gasp was heard from multiple people including Y/n when they saw Rick slitting Negan’s throat with a piece of broken glass. He held his hand against his wound before falling down onto the ground.

Rick walked up towards the people who’d been watching. His hand was covered in blood as he looked towards Siddiq.

“Save him.” The words gave Y/n relief as she held a hand on her stomach and could finally exhale.

“No!” Maggie began shouting. “No, he can’t! No! He killed Glenn!”

“We have too.” Rick said back calmly.

“We have to end it!” She cried. “Rick” She screamed and fell onto her knees and began crying while screaming further.

Everyone looked at her in agony while Rick began talking about the future. Everything went fast after that. Negan was carried by Siddiq and some other people away to an infirmary and their group began getting the Saviors out of there.

Soon enough it was just Y/n and her father. Her father who sat leaned against the tree he’d hurt Negan by. He sat there with tears in his eyes, thinking over his choices and how to move on from this and he thought about Carl, a lot.

She went and sat down next to him. Seeing her father like this, broken, lost and unfocused made her extremely worried. Though the worry doesn't only come from her fathers behavior. Ever since the two days prior she’d been very upset and anxious. And now, Y/n couldn’t hold it back anymore. Tears fell from her eyes again as she let out a sob. Her father looked over at her and put his arm around her.

“It’s gonna be okay, no more Saviors.” He said quietly.

“It’s not that...” Y/n let out another sob.

“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, growing worried for his daughter, he’d noticed she’d been acting a little different ever since she came back from the sanctuary but he guessed it depended on her not knowing if he was still mad at her.

Everything had changed so drastically in just a couple of days.

She hiccuped before taking a deep breath and looking her father straight into his eyes. “I think I’m pregnant.”

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Tag list: (click here if you want to be apart of it!)

@slut4glenn // @cherry-lovr // @igotmajordaddyissues // @bath1lda // @imaginethat16 // @Lenazblog // @freyafriggafrey // @nicepeony // @graciepies // @hopefulatrocity​ // @hicallmeveronica​ // @carlgrimeskisser​ // @lyl1pad // @pedropascal4l​ // @tresiri

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[fleshengine]

Rocky Horror Picture Show: I didn't like it

Here's the thing, I was mostly paying attention to the puzzle in front of me while I watched it, so I don't think I can call it disjointed and nonsensical in good conscience. When it comes to the actual content I feel like it's somewhere between what people who grew up in the suburbs desperately want to have happen to them, and what their parents are terrified of happening to them. A lot of perverts who don't really have an "in" into sexual communities want to be swept off their feet by a group of people in a sex dungeon. They don't want to have to give consent, they just want things to happen to them. At the same time, being enticed into a house with the promise of safety and being sexually assaulted and raped is something that a lot of conservatives and shit scaremonger about. Neither of these things really happen irl, if you want to be part of a kink scene you have to talk to people and very few people would even consider doing the shit Frank does without prior consent. It's a situation that's both hot and terrifying and is equal parts fantasy and nightmare. In this way, the story is a trans woman.

Anyway heeeyyyyy let's talk about that transmisogynistic stereotype huh? Frank N Furter who I will just call Frank now is like... everything about the stereotype. Intense makeup, evocative dancing, revealing outfits, rapist, violent, seductress, broad shoulders with a thin waste. It's really hard to fully articulate but basically Frank is everything people who fetishize transwomen want about us, and everything people who demonize us hate about us. Look, even down to the name he goes by being a joke about sausage.

It doesn't help that everyone in my life who has expressed a fondness for the movie hasn't been transfem, and I think that's because it makes us feel viscerally uncomfortable. Like, hey look there goes Mr. Transmisogyny raping a married couple and killing a man woohoo I love seeing what the wider public thinks of my existence! At the same time it's held up as a fucking... pinnacle of queer story telling, I've heard there's live productions on pride, and fucking monthly public viewings at theaters. It's ridiculous. I don't care if it was groundbreaking when it was made, or if it holds importance now, it has been made obsolete by the progression of queer rep. We don't have to enjoy transmisogyny anymore, we can just enjoy being trans. I know this is sort of shouting "stop having fun" at people, but I think this movie is harmful to have in the queer cultural zietgiest. I think it should belong in history, not something that you show to everyone you can because "it's so gay, you have to see it." It doesn't help that I saw it right before I saw Psycho for the first time which is also transmisogynistic and demonizes mental illnesses (that I have). No hate to the guy whose house I was at, but those were a combo my dude.

[tumblingxelian]

Chloleka thoughts.

Chloe was vexed, she was not making the progress with Juleka she'd hoped to. Getting into Roses good graces was easy enough, as was sending her off to dither away her time with Ali, leaving Juleka to Chloe.

But the dark haired maiden always had somewhere to be if Chloe started angling for a real date!

It was almost discouraging enough to send her back to pining after Ladybug... But those crimson eyes flashed in her memory and a shiver ran down her spine.

Chloe wanted to see that again; to be the subject of that intense devotion. She couldn't imagine anything more attractive.

& it seemed fate was finally on her side today, because when Chloe passed Juleka by she saw, and more recognized, the app the girl was using.

"Is that Style Queens, Beautify Yourself APP?" She asked, leaning on Juleka's side to peak at her phone.

The girl didn't pull away. Progress!

"It is," Juleka hummed absently, seemingly caught between two different choices of lace.

Chloe could sympathize.

"It makes sense you'd be interested in fashion, I was never much for the gothic-techwear aesthetic before you, but your outfits have always had a strong sense of style."

She dared a peak and saw a slight flush on Juleka's cheeks before her crimson eyes steeled into what Chloe believed to be suspicion.

Fortunately, Rose had her uses.

"Juleka's always been interested in fashion, as much as she loved playing music with the band. She even wants to be a model!"

'Really now~'

A whole new avenue just opened up to Chloe, a whole new arena, a hunting ground where a tigress like herself could stalk their prey. No longer crammed in between confined school walls filled with soft children.

"You know, there is a little event for youthful fashionistas coming soon, I could get you tickets."

Juleka's stare was now more intense than ever, and Chloe just wanted to drink it up even as the girls expression flickered between nervousness, intense suspicion and obvious longing.

'Look at me like that, look at me like that. Look at me like that!'

"I'd like that, but-"

"But nothing," Rose interrupted, "Juleka this could be huge for you, or maybe nothing, I don't actually know anything about fashion."

'Obviously,' Chloe bit her tongue until she tasted copper, forcing the words down and drowning out the echo of her mothers voice, just this once.

Chloe rolled her shoulders and regrettably slipped away from Juleka's taller frame, hand over her heart. That was apparently a sign of sincerity, right?

"I fortunately know a great deal, and can assure that it would be a boon. What's more, Adrien will be in our company in case you fear me doing anything devious. If nothing else, it will be a look into the world you're seeking to join, no?"

Juleka's head tilted to the side, long bangs falling aside to reveal both eyes and Chloe was rooted to the floor. Finally she spoke, "All right, I'll attend... Thank you Chloe."

'I won? Of course I won. I won!'

She blurred forward and managed to score a kiss on the cheek before bouncing back on her feet.

"Exceptional darling, I promise you shan't regret it! I'll make all the arrangements!"

--

To Juleka it seemed like the day of the event had come up on her like a speeding train.

Dressed in ungodly expensive clothes purchased by Chloe, she was riding in a limo. Yeah that was a thing that was happening. For some reason.

Rose's absence was felt mightily at her side. The other girl had some kind of Achu related event to go to, leaving Juleka with two other blondes in her stead.

Adrien looked relaxed if a little strange to her... Not on guard, not even that different, just subtly uncanny to what she'd come to expect from him, even the smile felt slightly unreal.

Chloe, much to Juleka's surprise wasn't hanging off her arm. In fact, the girl had pointedly sat on the opposite side of the limo to her and Adrien. Instead, she was with Nathalie and both were prodding intensely at phone and tablet alike, concentration evident on their features.

At some point Juleka had started biting her lip, the pain was a distraction but just as she felt the skin breaking she wrenched her jaw open.

"Something wrong?" Nathalie's cold stare levelled at Juleka, leaving her wanted to disappear behind her hair.

"Just, nervous..."

"Don't be darling, you're exceptional," Chloe purred. "Put an exceptional person where they are meant to be and they shine without effort."

For his part Adrien added, "I get being nervous, but you're in good company and well styled. You'll fit in better there than I will," he motioned to his very casual, boyish war. Barely a step above what he usually wore save the strong but subtle trim and longer sleeves.

"Your appeal," Nathalie began, "Is in your boyish charm. Suits and more flashy wear are for special occasions."

Adrien rolled his eyes fondly, "This stuff tends to go over my head, so its helpful to have Nathalie remind me." There was something teasing in his tone.

Feeling a little more at ease, Juleka un-clenched her muscles, and leaned back just a little more. "I just want to make sure I act right and not just dress right."

"Well there's your problem," Chloe dropped her phone and looked thoughtful. "Appearance, manner, behavior, they're all the same, everything is a performance. For campaigning daddy plays affable cars salesmen & family man for the public, then with his peers-"

Nathalie coughed, firmly.

Chloe just huffed and pressed on, "Take me for example, Chloe the Mayors daughter is different to Chloe the hotelier, and to Chloe the student."

That raised a lot of questions in Juleka's mind, not helped by Adrien nodding.

"Yeah, its all about almost being another person. You aren't you when performing, you're Juleka, the up and coming model. You have your own role to play, a persona that goes beyond the clothes you're wearing but that at the same time is them. Hold to that and you'll do fine."

Swallowing, she toyed with one of the rings Chloe had purchased for her ensemble for this event.

"So then is it all smoke and mirrors?" Would people even see her?

"Close," Chloe purred, something glinting in her hand and reflecting light across the limo.

The blonde leaned forward and grasped Juleka's hand and gravely intoned, "Its all in the style."

When Juleka returned home, she had been intent on collapsing on her bed and tuning out the world for awhile. It had gone well, better than she had ever expected, but that didn't men she wasn't exhausted.

However, there were too many questions left buzzing in her brain for her to stop quite yet. Crimson eyes darted to the array of cards and twin packaged sitting on her desk.

'I have no idea what to do with this,' she was excited, and nervous, replaying the days events in her head from a new angle.

During the event, Juleka had been surprised that Chloe didn't stay close; which was not to say she was totally absent.

The blonde had been blurring in an out like a busy little bee and not passing up the odd chance for a flirty finger trailing along Juleka's skin.

But most of Juleka's time was spent with Adrien; not quite on his arm, but not quite not on it either. Like she was a peer and someone of equal importance in the fashion world. All while Chloe & Nathalie weaved around them like human shrapnel in tornadoes.

At the time, Juleka didn't think much of it.

But now, cards given to Chloe were given to her, emails were pinging on her phone and when she arrived home, Juleka found two different enticement packages had been delivered by two separate modelling studios.

She still wanted to scream in joy and panic.

Instead, she had called Adrien.

"Two already? Wow, I know those names, you really turned heads today Juleka, congratulations!"

"Is it," She swallowed. "Was it me though, or because I was with you, or Chloe, I mean her father-"

"I can stop you there, being around me is only so so helpful, if it made peoples careers Chloe would still be in modelling. As for her father, nope, he has near zero pull in these circles, and Chloe's not going to risk throwing around his name when it won't help. Or worse, use Style Queens name without Audrey giving her the greenlight."

"I see, sorry... She seemed to be very... Active..."

Adrien chuckled, "She was just acting as your buffer, which she's done for me plenty of times. It may have helped create an air of mystique, that you were already someone notable, but that's all, the rest was you."

Juleka looked at the collection of card, the list of emails and twin packages. "I'll have to thank her, and... Maybe ask her what to do with all this."

"Probably a good call, I won't be of much help; I only deal with the Agreste and Style Queen brands usually. Chloe's more keyed into the movers and shakers everywhere and plenty inclined to scent blood in the water, or sort the bigger fish from the parasites as she might say."

"I'll keep that in mind and call her, and thank you for today."

"No problem, we're friends and hey, you've been a good influence on Chloe this last couple of weeks. Its been... Nice."

Which was the other reason she called, probably the real reason she called. Forcing the words out, Juleka was proud she didn't stammer, "Chloe knows I can't date her over this, right?"

"She knows," Adrien said without missing a beat. "That won't stop her flirting but she knows the difference between Paramore and agent. So don't worry about her trying to hold this over you, it wouldn't... Fit with how things work. She's already tethered her name to you and mine. She won't toss that aside over a date one way or the other."

Juleka mentally filed 'all' of that away for future reference in her increasingly large 'Chloe' file and nodded, only to herself.

"I see... That helps, given history I don't know what to expect."

"I can tell you this much, once Chloe decides she likes someone she digs in her claws and doesn't let go. She can handle a millions rejections & bounce back like nothing happened because attempt one million & one is sure to work, and if it doesn't then surely the next."

"I... I don't get it."

There was an odd tone to Adrien's hum as he answered, "We're used to fighting to be seen, something you can relate to. So she won't take a no personally, if she did, she'd be a quitter and nothings less exceptional than a quitter."

Juleka's Chloe file was going to need extra storage space.

"Oh- sorry I have to go, maybe we can do a shoot together down the line, later Juleka!"

"B-" He'd hung up before she could finish speaking and Juleka stared at her phone, and then back at her dream laid out in front of her.

Then she dialed Chloe.

It wasn't until after a long conversation about not tying herself to any one company, which companies to scuttle and which to eek close, followed by dinner with her family that Juleka realized something.

She hadn't called Rose yet.

[heongiu]

Gun x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight mention of SH, sensitive topics. Reader suffers from Endometriosis.

A/N: I suddenly thought of this when I was researching about endometriosis, if you're not comfortable with the following, please stop reading. And I'm sorry if somehow this makes you sad 😭

Gun once again, had arrived at a place where he was feared the most at.. A place where his story all began, and also a place where he had found you.

In Japan, at the old fashioned Japanese house, where lived the Yamazaki Clan. This time he had arrived with an unexpected guest... None other than you, his wife.

The people and other clan members looked shocked, it had been years since they saw you, you looked.. Like you had gone through some very grim times, perhaps something others could not understand, but you looked better than before, at least.

"How dare you make her step here?" The old woman interrupted Gun, he had been stopped in his track, he stared at her holding your hand in his tightly.

"Move aside" He ordered angrily, his tone was stern and cold, almost piercing like an arrow through some one's heart and if they were to continue being this impudent, he would manually do it with just his bare hands, but unfortunately, he couldn't.

"That woman is a witch! She can't even bear a child! What good would she do for giving us no successors?!" She reviled towards You and you knew just how much those words left a wound on you, that no one could fathom the depth and agony of.

Gun's expression had turned furious, his eyes were glinting with anger upon hearing such insulting words, and that too from someone he shared common blood with. If she was not a woman, he would've punched them so hard they would've faltered to the ground terribly.

You stopped, holding his hand tightly as you squeezed it, then came out few vaguely audible sentences from your mouth.

"Gun.. Leave it be, I-I'll be fine here.. You go in" You encouraged him to move forward without you. upon seeing you so depressed and hurt, he couldn't help but feel even more anguished at those who had nerves to utter such words. you could feel him let go of your hand slowly, as he towered the woman.

"I said move" the annoyance in his tone was enough for them to know he was very serious to his core.

Blood and relations were nothing to him anymore but meaningless terms. for you he could fight the universe and go against every law.

It had been years that you were struggling with endometriosis. And during those days of the week, you couldn't even breath due to such intense pain. you felt nothing more than a burden to him, even though he had told you several times that he loved you more than anything, your vulnerable mental health let you fall into depression quite easily.

And now when You had finally secured your way out of it, which you once used to face everyday, people just couldn't help seeing you looking better could they?

Previously, You had even suggested Gun to get married a second time, with someone who could give his clan the successors they had put their hopes high for. But oh how he loved you, too much to even replace you, and in fact, no one could, in his vision, you were more than enough, more than he had desired.

Maybe, just for once, you wanted to feel like a mother, because you knew you'd do your best to be one. Perhaps you had failed yourself somewhere in the past, to face such a thing is not wished for often. And what good did taking more-than-prescribed pills do to you?

When many, expected children, you were taking rounds of the hospital, just to see if this prolonging gist, would depart, but to your demise, it couldn't, and you were stuck with it for your life time. You were not one to adopt, you did consider, but you knew the poor child would face injustice.

you snapped back to reality, Gun looked back at you, his eyes had widened at the fact you told him to enter without you, and how could you? He approached you, gently holding your hands in his together as he spoke to you.

"I placed this ring on your finger that day for a significant reason, it's so we both would stay together forever, no matter what goes and what comes." With a squeeze on your hand, he brought you inside, with no resentment or regret on his face. even if in their eyes now, he had become a villain, he couldn't care less.

Though the looks the other people gave you, and how they mocked you, they all would descend on their knees if they were confronted by the man himself.

That very night, when the moon had risen from it's slumber, you were entangled in his arms, without a worry, without a thought, drifting to peaceful sleep.

[pitaficionado]

Gym Surprise

After an unexpected pay raise, I started frequenting a new gym close to my work, drawn in by its sleek design and modern amenities. This place was fancier than I was used to, boasting a state-of-the-art workout area and an expansive locker room that felt like a luxurious retreat. The moment I stepped inside, I was greeted by polished marble floors and ambient lighting that set a calming atmosphere. It was a refreshing change from my previous gym, and the upscale environment inspired me to elevate my own routine, blending fitness with a touch of sophistication I hadn't expected.

After my first workout, I hurried in the locker room, eager to get on with my day. Just as I was getting ready to leave, however, I noticed a guy with striking features —Jacob, though I didn't know his name then. He had just finished his shower, and he didn’t seem like the type to linger. Moving quickly, he sprayed deodorant on his pits with a hurried, almost restless energy, like he had somewhere important to be. Without a glance in anyone’s direction, he was out the door in moments, leaving just as quickly as he’d come.

Even in that brief, furtive first glance, Jacob made quite an impression. His powerful frame was hard to ignore, especially with the way his biceps bulged beneath his shirt as he moved. There was an intensity about him, even in those rushed moments of getting ready to leave, that made him stand out from the usual crowd.

The second time I saw him, he wasn’t alone. Jacob was with a small group of friends, laughing and talking as they moved through the gym. That’s when I first caught his name, overhearing one of them call out to him. It felt like a piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place.

After that, it became almost routine to see Jacob in the locker room, usually just finishing up after a grueling workout. He’d walk in, his shirt clinging to his skin from sweat, catching the light just enough to emphasize his muscular build. His expression was always serious, still focused, like he was mentally still pushing through those last reps. He’d go through his post-workout ritual in quick, efficient movements—taking a quick swig of water, grabbing his towel and a bottle of body wash, all without lingering. He rarely looked around, his attention fixed on wrapping up his routine as he got ready to leave.

Sometimes, I’d catch sight of Jacob just as he was finishing up in the shower, water streaming down his toned, muscular frame. In those moments, he seemed more relaxed, focused only on himself as he lathered up, even soaping up his hairy pits with a thoroughness that was almost methodical. There was an ease to his movements, a kind of confidence that seemed to fit his rugged appearance. It was intriguing, seeing him in those unguarded moments, before he slipped back into the hurried pace that usually carried him out the door.

I started to notice a small habit of Jacob's—he’d hang his tank top from the locker’s hook, letting it air out while he showered. It seemed like such a simple, practical routine, but something about the sight of that well-worn tank, still damp from his workout, added a bit of character to his presence. Every time I’d see it there, slung casually yet purposefully, it hinted at a certain consistency in his routine, like he’d perfected his own system down to the smallest details.

Soon enough, I began to pick up on Jacob's other small, consistent rituals. I noticed that he had a method to his tank tops, rotating them in a precise order each time. Every tank was the same brand, each fitting him with that perfect, slightly snug look, but they varied subtly in color—a dark charcoal one day, deep navy the next, then black. It was as if he’d mapped out a quiet, unchanging rhythm, an almost ritualistic pattern to his gear.

I don’t know what came over me, but one day, as I walked into the locker room and spotted Jacob’s tank top hanging there, I felt a strange impulse surge through me. It was as if the sight of that well-worn fabric, still warm from his body, sparked a mix of excitement and mischief that I couldn't resist. My heart raced as I glanced around, ensuring no one was watching. I quickly reached out and snagged the tank top from its hook, holding it tightly for a moment, feeling the weight of my decision settle in. It was a reckless choice, and I knew it, but the thrill of the moment was intoxicating, overshadowing any sense of caution.

Without hesitation, I stashed the tank top in my gym bag, the fabric feeling soft and warm against my fingers. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me as I zipped the bag shut, almost as if sealing in that moment of impulsive rebellion. I headed home in a haze, my mind racing with thoughts of what I had just done. The world outside the gym seemed muted, my senses heightened, every sound and sight sharper than usual. I could hardly believe I had taken such a risk, and yet the thrill of it buzzed in the back of my mind, mingling with a hint of guilt that was overshadowed by an inexplicable excitement.

Back home, I pulled the tank top from my bag, savoring the moment as I held it up, letting my fingers trace the worn, familiar seams. The fabric felt soft yet sturdy, like it had been through countless washes but still held the faint scent of Jacob’s workout—a mix of musk, deodorant, and a hint of the gym’s sterile, metallic air. I brought it closer, letting the scent wash over me, grounding me in the memory of seeing him wear it, his powerful frame filling it out as it clung to his shoulders and chest. I slipped it over my head, feeling the cool fabric settle against my skin, slightly loose but still holding a trace of his warmth. Standing there, wrapped in the tank top, I was caught between an odd comfort and a thrill, as if, for a moment, I’d stepped into his world.

I found myself drawn to the ribbed edges of the tank top, especially the spot where it would have rested against his underarms. Slowly, I brought it to my mouth, pressing my teeth gently into the ribbed fabric, feeling the texture and imagining the warmth and weight of it against his skin after one of those intense workouts. The fabric had that faint, salty tang from sweat, mingled with the clean scent of soap, creating a sensory pull I hadn’t expected. Chewing on the ribbing was oddly soothing, like savoring a private piece of his routine, each fiber holding a trace of the hours he'd spent pushing his limits. It felt intimate, almost like discovering something secret and unspoken.