#but in the other hand - the fact that we feel confident and safe enough to this in the office!! we both never questioned having

[octarineblues]

today an older phd student gifted me a crochetted non-binary flag 💛💜 cannot help thinking that slowly but goddamn surely we are moving in the right direction

[writersblockedx]

A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

[helen-with-an-a]

Halloween - Beautiful Girl series (18+)

Hiiiii - how is this the 2nd full length fic for Beautiful Girl? Anyways in honour of Halloween, here’s a (not-so-)little smutty fic for yall. Shout out to the anon who gave me the inspiration - I loved writing this. If anyone has any more ideas, please let me know.

Alexia Putellas x reader

Description: It's Halloween and Alexia forces herself to watch a scary movie with R, regardless of what R says.

Word Count: 9k

TW: Smut, 18+, cock warming, a nightmare

Beautiful Girl masterlist

Maybe watching a scary movie wasn’t the best idea after all. Or maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you needed. You weren’t so sure anymore. On one hand, you couldn’t deny that it pained you a little to see Alexia so scared, her usual confidence crumbling with every jump scare and every gruesome scene. But on the other hand, the way she reacted to the horror unfolding on the screen had you completely captivated. As the movie progressed, she had inched closer and closer to you – an impressive feat considering she started the movie with her head on your chest, your wrapped around each other. Her arms tightened around your waist each time something startled her – her grip being almost painful. The way she clung to you, seeking comfort and protection, stirred something deep within you.

Her scent was intoxicating; soft, warm coconut that filled your senses and made it hard to focus on anything else. You found yourself torn between wanting to reassure her and the thrill of having her so close. Every time the tension in the movie built, you could feel her body tense up against yours, her breath hitching in anticipation. And when the inevitable jump scare happened, she would let out a quiet whimper, the sound soft and vulnerable, before burying her face into your neck, seeking refuge from the terror on the screen. Her eyes would screw tightly shut, and you could feel her eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

It was impossible to think about anything else. All you could focus on was the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the way her soft hair tickled your cheek, and the rhythm of her breaths as she tried to steady herself. You wanted to be her protector, to make her feel safe, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but enjoy the way she needed you in that moment. Maybe watching a scary movie wasn’t the best idea, but with Alexia so close, it was hard to think of a better one.

“Are you sure, beautiful? We don’t have to watch horror just because it’s Halloween,” you said, your voice laced with concern as you studied her expression. “There are plenty of spooky movies, or even just kid ones that we could put on instead,” you suggested, offering a safer alternative as you looked into her eyes. Despite the dim lighting in the room, you could see the determination in her gaze as she pressed the remote into your hand, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I am sure, mi amor,” she replied, her voice dripping with confidence, but you couldn’t help noticing the slight quiver in her tone that betrayed her nerves. You hesitated, unsure whether to trust her bravado. You knew Alexia well enough to know that horror movies were far from her favourite. In fact, she usually avoided them like the plague, preferring the comfort of romantic comedies or feel-good dramas. Horror had never been her thing, and you respected that. You never wanted to put her in a situation that would make her uncomfortable, especially when it came to something as trivial as a movie.

But there she was, insisting on watching one tonight. Halloween had its traditions, and perhaps she felt a certain pressure to partake in the spooky festivities. You, on the other hand, didn’t mind horror. It wasn’t your go-to genre by any means, but you could enjoy a good scare when the mood struck. Still, the thought of subjecting Alexia to something that might genuinely frighten her made you pause.

“Ale,” you began softly, trying to gauge her true feelings. “I know you don’t usually like horror movies. We really don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable. Halloween or not, I’m happy to watch whatever you want.”

She shook her head, her smile widening as she leaned in closer to you. “No, I want to try it,” she said, her voice steadying as if convincing herself as much as she was you. Her eyes sparkled with a blend of excitement and uncertainty, a rare combination that made your heart flutter. “Besides,” she added, her lips curving into a teasing smile, “you’ll protect me, right?”

The way she looked at you in that moment, a mixture of vulnerability and trust, made your heart soften instantly. How could you ever say no to her? “Of course I will, my beautiful girl,” you murmured, your voice filled with affection. The promise felt as natural as breathing, a vow to keep her safe, even from the imaginary horrors that would soon flicker across the screen. You’d face a hundred nightmares if it meant she felt secure in your arms.

With a playful glint in her eye, she gently pushed your shoulders back, guiding you to recline against the cushions. The next thing you knew, she was climbing on top of you, settling herself comfortably against your chest. Her head found its usual resting spot over your heart, the rhythmic beat beneath her ear soothing her racing one.

You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, the warmth of her body pressed against yours grounding you in the moment. She let out a contented sigh, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your chest as she nestled in deeper, as if the very act of being so close to you was enough to chase away any lingering fears. You could feel her breath steadying, matching the calm rhythm of yours, and you knew that no matter what happened in the movie, she’d be safe and sound right here with you.

“See?” she whispered, her voice muffled slightly against your chest, “Already feeling braver.” Her words were laced with a gentle teasing, but there was also a sincerity behind them that touched you deeply. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, your lips brushing against her hair, breathing in that familiar coconut scent that always made you feel at home.

“Good,” you whispered back, your voice barely above a murmur, “because I’ve got you, always.” She responded with a soft hum, a sound that was full of contentment and trust, vibrating gently against your chest. It was a sound that told you everything you needed to know, that in this moment, she felt safe with you, that she believed in your promise.

You let the silence linger for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the way her body moulded perfectly against yours. But as your hand hovered over the remote, a flicker of concern resurfaced in your mind. You couldn’t shake the urge to double-check, to make absolutely certain she was okay with what was coming next.

“You’re sure?” you asked gently, your thumb poised over the play button, ready but hesitant. You wanted her to have an out, a chance to change her mind before the movie started. You were more than willing to switch to something else, something that wouldn’t leave her on edge or make her uncomfortable.

“Sí, mi amor,” she replied, her voice steady and full of resolve, yet still carrying that softness that you loved so much. “I am sure.” Her words were firm, but there was also a warmth in them, a reassurance that she was ready.

You were barely 10 minutes into the movie when you felt her shift on top of you, her body tensing as the ominous music swelled on the screen. The shadows and flickering lights of the film created a sense of unease that even you, with your higher tolerance for horror, could feel creeping into the room. But it was Alexia’s reaction that caught your attention more than anything else. Without a word, she moved closer, almost instinctively, pressing her face into the curve of your neck, seeking comfort in your warmth.

Her breath was shaky, the soft exhale brushing against your skin as she tried to steady herself, but you could tell the movie was starting to get to her. The way her fingers gripped your arm just a little tighter, the way her body seemed to curl into yours for protection – it all signalled that the horror on screen was pushing her limits. Your heart ached at the thought of her enduring something that made her this uncomfortable, even if she was doing it out of sheer determination.

“Ale, baby,” you began softly, your voice gentle as you tilted your head slightly to speak into her hair. “We don’t have to watch this.” You were ready to reach for the remote, ready to switch to something light and fun, something that would bring back the ease and laughter you loved sharing with her. But before you could move, she tightened her hold on you, her head still nestled firmly against your neck.

“No, no, I am fine, mi amor,” she insisted, her voice a bit muffled but still carrying that stubborn edge you had come to know so well. There was a hint of resolve in her words, a determination to prove to herself – and maybe to you – that she could handle this. But the tremor in her voice didn’t escape your notice, and you couldn’t help but worry that she was pushing herself too far.

“Ale –” you murmured again, this time with a little more concern, hoping to persuade her to take a step back, to remember that there was no need to be a hero tonight. You wanted her to enjoy this, not endure it, and the last thing you wanted was for her to suffer through something she didn’t have to.

But before you could say more, she cut you off, her tone light but firm. “Shush, I am watching the film,” she said, her words almost playful, though you could hear the underlying tension. Her stubbornness was both endearing and exasperating, and you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, half in amusement, half in resignation.

You knew when Alexia set her mind to something, it was nearly impossible to sway her. It was one of the things you loved about her – her fierce determination and strong will – but right now, all you wanted was to pull her out of this self-imposed challenge and back into the safety of something she enjoyed. But as you felt her burrow deeper into your embrace, you realised that maybe, just maybe, this was her way of facing her fears, and she wanted to do it while feeling the reassurance of your presence.

So, you sighed softly, letting your concern ebb away just a little, though you remained vigilant, ready to call it quits the moment she gave you any real sign that it was too much. You tightened your arms around her, pulling her just a little closer, as if to shield her from whatever horror the screen might throw at her next. If she wanted to face this challenge, you’d be right there with her, her protector in every sense of the word.

You were about 20 minutes from the end of the film, and the tension in the room was nearly unbearable. Each passing minute seemed to heighten the anxiety, not just on the screen but in the very air around you. You could feel it in the way Alexia clung to you, her body pressed so tightly against yours that it was as if she was trying to merge into you, seeking refuge from the horrors unfolding before her eyes. The soft tremors in her body had grown more pronounced, her every breath a shaky struggle to maintain control.

It wasn’t just the way she held onto you that gave her away; it was the way her breath hitched, the way her chest stuttered with each sharp inhale. You could sense the tears welling up, threatening to spill over, and it broke your heart to see her like this. She was trying so hard to keep it together, to convince herself – and you – that she was fine, but it was clear that she was on the verge of breaking down.

“Baby, please,” you urged softly, your voice filled with concern as you turned your attention away from the screen and fully focused on her. “Let’s just turn it off. C’mon, you’re terrified.” You reached for the remote, ready to end this ordeal and bring her some relief. You couldn’t stand the thought of her enduring this any longer, especially when there was no need for it.

But before you could press the button, she shook her head, her voice trembling as she tried to brush off your concerns. “N-no, I’m not,” she insisted, though the quiver in her tone betrayed her. “Everything is fine, mi amor. Just watch your film.” There was a desperate edge to her words, as if she was trying to convince herself more than you.

Your heart twisted at her stubbornness, knowing full well that she was anything but fine. Her pride and determination were admirable, but they were also keeping her trapped in a situation that was clearly too much for her to handle. You wanted to respect her wishes, but you couldn’t ignore the signs – the way her body trembled, the way she seemed to shrink into herself with every new jump scare, every disturbing scene.

“Ale,” you began again, your voice firmer this time as you tried to reason with her. “There’s no point in torturing y – ”

“I am fine, mi amor.” She snapped before you could finish, her words sharp and defensive, cutting through the air between you. Her tone was laced with a mix of frustration and desperation, as if she was clinging to the last shreds of her resolve. She pulled away from you just enough to look up, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears, her expression one of fierce determination. But beneath that determination, you could see the fear, the anxiety that was eating away at her composure.

Her response left you momentarily stunned, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. She wanted so badly to be strong for you, to prove that she could handle this, but it was clear that she was reaching her breaking point. You knew her well enough to understand that this wasn’t just about the movie anymore – it was about her pride, about not wanting to seem weak or vulnerable in front of you.

But you didn’t care about any of that. All you cared about was her well-being, and you couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering through this just to prove something that didn’t need proving.

You softened your gaze, your expression full of understanding and compassion. Gently, you reached out and cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Ale, you don’t have to do this,” you said softly, your voice filled with tenderness. “I don’t care about the movie – I care about you. There’s nothing to prove here, beautiful. I’d much rather stop this and see you smile than watch you force yourself through something that’s hurting you.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just looked at you with those wide, tear-filled eyes. The tension between you seemed to hang in the air, thick and heavy, until finally, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She let out a shaky breath, her stubborn resolve crumbling as she leaned back into you, her head resting against your chest once more.

“I just… I didn’t want to ruin it for you,” she whispered, her voice small and full of the vulnerability she had been trying so hard to hide.

You held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, your heart aching for her. “You could never ruin anything for me, Ale,” you assured her, your voice gentle but firm. “Your comfort and happiness mean more to me than any movie ever could. Let’s turn this off and do something that makes you feel good, okay?”

She nodded against you, her grip on your shirt loosening slightly as she allowed herself to relax, to let go of the pressure she had been putting on herself. With a relieved sigh, you grabbed the remote and finally turned off the movie, the silence that followed almost immediately easing the tension in the room.

“Can… can we have a shower and just go to bed?” Her voice was small, almost fragile, as she lifted her head from your chest, her eyes still glistening with the remnants of tears. The earlier determination had given way to exhaustion, and all she wanted now was the comfort of something familiar, something soothing to wash away the tension that had built up throughout the evening. Her request was simple, but the vulnerability in her tone made it feel like so much more – a plea for comfort, for reassurance, for the safety that only you could provide.

“Of course we can,” you responded immediately, your voice tender as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. You wanted to make sure she felt completely at ease, so you added gently, “Do you want me to shower with you, just be in the room, or do you want to be alone?” You didn’t want to assume anything, knowing that right now, she needed to feel in control, to have things go exactly the way she wanted.

But before you could even finish asking, she was already nodding, her eyes earnest and pleading as she whispered, “Together.” The word came out almost like a sigh of relief, and you could see how much she needed your presence, how much she craved the closeness and the comfort that only your touch could bring.

“Okay, together it is,” you said softly, giving her a reassuring smile. You rose from the couch, helping her to her feet, and you couldn’t help but notice how drained she seemed, the tension of the evening still lingering in the way she moved. As you guided her towards the bathroom, you asked another gentle question, knowing how much she loved your care in these moments. “Hair wash or not?”

She looked up at you, her eyes softening as she considered the offer. The thought of your hands in her hair, massaging away the stress of the night, clearly appealed to her. “Wash, por favor?” she replied, her voice quiet but hopeful. There was something so endearing in the way she asked, as if she knew how much you loved pampering her and was giving you the opportunity to do just that.

“Anything for you,” you murmured, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. The simple act of caring for her, of helping her wash away the remnants of the night’s fears, filled you with a sense of purpose and love.

Together, you made your way to the bathroom, the anticipation of the warm, soothing shower already beginning to calm the both of you. As the water started to stream from the showerhead, you helped her out of her clothes, your touch gentle and loving, careful to make her feel cherished. She stepped into the shower first, the warm water cascading over her, and you followed close behind, wrapping your arms around her from behind as the steam enveloped you both.

She let out a small, content sigh as the water washed over her, and you could feel some of the tension start to melt away from her body. You reached for the shampoo, lathering it in your hands before gently massaging it into her hair, your fingers working through the strands with care. She leaned back into you, her eyes closed as she allowed herself to fully relax, the sensation of your hands in her hair bringing her the comfort she had been craving.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the sound of the water. But you heard her, and the gratitude in her tone made your heart swell.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” you replied, your voice just as soft. “I love taking care of you.”

You continued to wash her hair with slow, gentle movements, making sure to ease out every last bit of tension. It wasn’t just about the physical act of washing away the stress; it was about being there for her, supporting her, and reminding her that she was never alone, no matter what.

Once her hair was thoroughly rinsed, you turned her gently in your arms so she could face you. The steam curled around you both, creating a little cocoon of warmth and intimacy. You reached up to brush a few droplets of water from her cheeks, your touch tender as you looked into her eyes.

“Feel better?” you asked softly, your voice filled with love and concern.

She nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips. “Much better,” she whispered, her eyes shining with appreciation. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied, leaning in to kiss her, a slow, lingering kiss that spoke of all the love and care you felt for her. The warmth of the shower, the closeness of your bodies, and the gentle exchange of affection all combined to create a moment of pure peace, a sanctuary from the fears that had haunted the night.

When the shower was finally over, you helped her dry off and wrapped her in a soft towel, taking extra care to ensure she felt warm and secure. You could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her body seemed to lean into yours for support, and you knew it was time to get her to bed.

You led her to the bedroom, helping her into a clean, comfortable pyjama top. She sank into the bed with a sigh of relief, her body finally able to fully relax. You slipped in beside her, pulling the covers over you both as you wrapped her in your arms once more.

As she nestled against your chest, her head resting in her favourite spot, you could feel the last of the tension slip away, replaced by a deep, contented calm. The horrors of the movie, the fear and anxiety – it all faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of your shared closeness.

“Goodnight, my beautiful girl,” you whispered, pressing a final kiss to her forehead as she drifted off to sleep.

“Buenas noches, mi amor,” she murmured back, her voice already drowsy, filled with the comfort and security she felt in your arms. And as you lay there, holding her close, you knew that this – this simple, intimate moment – was all that really mattered.

It was 5 a.m. when you awoke, the quiet stillness of the night broken only by the soft rustling of the sheets. The room was dark, with only the faintest sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the bed. At first, you were disoriented, unsure of what had pulled you from sleep. But then you felt it – the way the mattress shifted beside you, the way the blankets tugged slightly as if caught in a struggle.

You turned your head, your heart quickening as you realised it was Alexia. She was lying next to you, but something was wrong. Her body was twitching, her limbs jerking in restless, erratic movements that seemed almost out of her control. It was as if she were trying to escape something, her legs kicking out and her hands grasping at the sheets, searching for something to hold on to.

Your concern deepened as you heard her soft whimpers, barely audible but full of distress. “Por favor, no,” she murmured, her voice trembling with fear. The words were slurred, muffled by sleep, but the desperation in them was unmistakable. “Para, por favor,” she pleaded, her breath hitching as if she were trying to catch it between sobs that hadn’t yet escaped. “No me hagas… No puedo…”

Your heart broke at the sound of her voice, so full of helplessness and fear. It was clear she was caught in the grip of a nightmare, reliving something that was causing her immense pain. You reached out, your hand hovering just above her, unsure whether to wake her or not. You wanted to pull her out of whatever dark place her mind had taken her, to reassure her that she was safe, but you also knew that waking someone from a nightmare could sometimes be disorienting, even frightening.

“Mi amor,” she whimpered again, her voice cracking as if she were on the verge of tears. “Ayudar…” The last word was a desperate plea for help, and you could feel your own heart ache in response. There was no more hesitation – you couldn’t let her suffer through this alone, not when you were right there beside her.

Gently, you placed your hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze as you called her name. “Ale,” you whispered, your voice calm and soothing, trying to bring her back to the present, back to you. “Beautiful, wake up. It’s just a dream. I’m here, you’re safe.”

At first, she didn’t respond, her body still caught in the throes of the nightmare, her breathing fast and shallow. You squeezed her shoulder a little more firmly, your thumb brushing against her skin in a comforting gesture. “Ale, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Wake up, baby.”

Slowly, her movements began to still, the jerking of her limbs easing as your voice started to reach her. Her eyes fluttered open, but they were wide and unfocused, as if she were still caught between the nightmare and reality. She blinked rapidly, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she tried to orient herself.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmured, sliding your hand down to gently cup her cheek, guiding her gaze to meet yours. “It was just a bad dream. You’re safe now. I’m right here.”

She looked at you, her eyes slowly beginning to clear as she registered your words, your presence. A shuddering breath escaped her as the realisation hit, and she let out a soft sob, her body collapsing against yours as if all the strength had drained out of her. You wrapped your arms around her immediately, pulling her close, cradling her trembling form against your chest.

“It’s okay, Ale,” you whispered, your voice full of reassurance as you stroked her back, trying to soothe the fear that still lingered in her. “You’re safe. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She buried her face in your chest, her hands clutching at your shirt as if afraid to let go. You could feel the wetness of her tears soaking through the fabric, and it only made you hold her tighter, as if your embrace could shield her from whatever horrors had haunted her sleep.

“Lo siento,” she choked out, her voice muffled and raw with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t apologise,” you replied gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just glad I was here to wake you up.”

For a while, the two of you simply lay there, her body gradually relaxing in your arms as the terror of the nightmare faded. You continued to whisper soothing words, your hands moving in slow, comforting circles on her back, until her breathing finally steadied, the tension in her muscles releasing as she melted into you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked softly, knowing that sometimes sharing the fear could help it lose its power.

She shook her head slightly, her voice still trembling as she replied, “No… I just want to forget it.”

She looked up at you with those big, hazel eyes, the ones that had a way of speaking directly to your heart, conveying emotions that words could never fully capture. In those eyes, you saw a mixture of vulnerability and longing, a silent plea that reached out to you with an intensity that made your breath catch.  They told you everything you needed to know.

“Please, mi amor,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of a tender desperation that tugged at your heartstrings. Her lips were slightly parted, still a little swollen from the way she had been biting them in her sleep, the remnants of fear lingering in the way they trembled ever so slightly. Her cheeks were flushed, a soft, rosy hue that had nothing to do with the nightmare that had shaken her awake and everything to do with the way she was looking at you now – with a mixture of need and trust, a desire to be comforted and held, to be taken away from the remnants of the dark dream that still clung to her.

“Make me forget it?” she asked, her voice barely more than a breath, yet filled with a yearning. It wasn’t just the nightmare she wanted to forget; it was the vulnerability it had exposed, the fear that had left her feeling raw and exposed.

You could feel your heart swell with a protective tenderness as you gazed down at her, taking in the sight of her beautiful face framed by the tousled strands of hair that had escaped during her restless sleep. Her cheeks, flushed with a soft pink, were warm under your touch as you gently cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs tracing light, soothing circles against her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, leaning into your touch, seeking the solace she knew only you could provide.

“How, my beautiful girl? What do you need from me?” you asked, your voice a soft murmur as you gazed down at her. The warmth in your tone was matched by the tenderness in your eyes, a look that was full of love and patience. You wanted to give her everything she needed, to be exactly what she was asking for, but you needed her to tell you, to be open about her desires. It was something you had been working on together, trying to get her to express herself more freely, to not be afraid of telling you what she truly wanted.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking away from yours as if searching for the right words. You could see the conflict in her expression, the way she bit her lip in thought, her cheeks flushing slightly with a mix of shyness and anticipation. The sight was endearing, and it only made you more determined to coax her into speaking her mind, to assure her that there was nothing she couldn’t ask of you.

“You,” she finally whispered, her voice quiet but filled with a longing that resonated deep within you. “I just need you.”

Your heart swelled at her words, the simplicity of them carrying so much weight, so much emotion. It wasn’t just about physical desire; it was about the connection between you, the way she trusted you, needed you in a way that went beyond mere words. But even though you were more than willing to give her everything she wanted, you knew this was an important moment for her to take that extra step, to be specific about what she truly craved.

“And you have me,” you vowed, your voice steady and full of reassurance as you reached out to take her hand. You held it tightly, giving her a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that you were there, that you would always be there for her. But you knew she needed to go further, to put into words the desires that she had kept hidden, the ones that she was still learning to voice. “But I need specifics, beautiful. I need you to tell me exactly what you want.”

She hesitated again, her fingers tightening around yours as she gathered the courage to speak. You could see the internal battle she was waging, the way her mind was working to overcome the last remnants of hesitation, the lingering fear of being too forward, too demanding. But you waited patiently, giving her the space she needed, knowing that this moment was crucial for her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, she looked up at you, her hazel eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze, something raw and unfiltered, and it made your heart race in anticipation of what she was about to say.

“Your cock,” she said eventually, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried a weight that made them impossible to ignore. “I want to sit on your cock.”

The directness of her words sent a jolt of desire through you, but more than that, you felt a surge of pride and affection. She had said it – she had opened up to you, voiced her desire without holding back, and that was a victory in itself. You could see the blush spreading across her cheeks, her eyes searching yours for a reaction, for reassurance that she hadn’t overstepped, that she hadn’t done something wrong.

You gave her hand another squeeze, your thumb brushing gently over her knuckles as you leaned in closer, your voice low and full of promise. “And you will,” you murmured, your gaze locking with hers, letting her see the desire, the love, the unwavering commitment in your eyes. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want, my beautiful girl. I’m going to take care of you.”

Her breath hitched slightly, her lips parting in anticipation as she realised you meant every word. You could feel the tension between you, the electricity that sparked in the air as you brought your free hand to her cheek, cupping it gently as you leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brushing of lips that quickly deepened as she responded, her body pressing closer to yours as if seeking the warmth and comfort only you could provide.

You could feel the heat building between you, the way her body instinctively moved closer, seeking out your touch, craving the connection you shared. But you didn’t rush, didn’t push her – this was about her, about giving her the time and space to fully embrace her desires, to feel comfortable in expressing them.

When you finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-lidded with desire as she looked up at you, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss. You could see the anticipation in her gaze, the way she was waiting for you to make the next move, to take the lead in this dance of intimacy.

“Go get the strap for me,” you said, your voice steady and filled with a mix of authority and encouragement. And choose either the purple one or the dark red one – they should be in the top drawer. When you’ve picked it, take off your knickers and leave them in the basket, then come back.” Your instructions were clear, but they were also laced with an invitation, a chance for her to make a choice that would tailor the experience to her preference.

She nodded, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of eagerness and curiosity. There was a certain glint in her gaze, a spark of excitement that indicated she was ready to embrace what was coming next. You watched as she moved with a purposeful grace, her steps filled with a quiet determination.

As she approached the drawer, her fingers traced along the smooth surface before she pulled it open. The top drawer was organised with precision, and there they were – the two dildos you had mentioned, each one carefully arranged. The purple one was vibrant and rich, its hue deep and alluring, while the dark red was more subdued but equally enticing, its colour reminiscent of a deep, passionate embrace.

She took a moment to consider her options, her fingers hovering over the straps as she made her decision. It was a small but significant choice, one that would add a personal touch to the experience you were about to share. The act of choosing held its own weight, a way for her to assert her preferences, to have a say in how the moment would unfold. The purple one was bigger – she would definitely feel the painful sting more in the morning. But the red one was curved slightly – the angle pressing against all the right spots.

After a few moments, she selected the strap that resonated most with her in that moment. Purple – she would need the reminder in the morning. Her choice was deliberate, and as she held it in her hands, you could see the satisfaction in her expression, a sense of anticipation for what was to come. She hurried to slip off her underwear, throwing them in the wash before she turned back to you, the strap in hand, her gaze confident and ready.

With a gentle, encouraging smile, you extended your hand toward her, taking the strap from her with a sense of reverence. “Mi hermosa niña perfecta, listening so well,” you murmured, your voice soft but filled with admiration. You took the strap carefully, admiring the way it felt in your hands, the texture and weight of it, and how it would fit into her just so.

It took a few moments, but eventually, you were settled back against the pillows, the room bathed in a soft, ambient light that cast gentle shadows across the bed. The black harness was securely wrapped around your waist, its sturdy material hugging your body comfortably, creating a sense of anticipation and readiness. The straps of the harness had been adjusted with care, ensuring a snug yet comfortable fit that allowed you to move freely, without any distraction from the sensation of the harness itself.

The purple dildo, now firmly attached to the harness, hung to one side, its vibrant colour contrasting with the dark fabric of the harness. It swayed slightly with your movements, the smooth, polished surface catching the dim light in a way that made it look almost ethereal.

“Come here,” you whispered, your voice a low, inviting rumble that seemed to resonate through the soft, dimly lit room. The ambiance was intimate and charged, the light casting gentle, warm hues that danced across the bed and accentuated the tenderness of the moment.

As you spoke, she moved to straddle you with a mixture of eagerness and nervous anticipation. Her hands reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of the plastic. Her movements were fluid, a testament to how much she wanted … needed … this

You gently interjected; your tone soft but firm. “Not yet.” The words were a tender reminder, a way to guide her without diminishing the intensity of the moment. “Don’t think I didn’t notice it’s the bigger one, beautiful.” You added, a teasing note in your voice that hinted at both admiration and playfulness. Your eyes locked with hers, your gaze steady and full of affection.

The playful tease was meant to break any lingering tension, to remind her that this was a shared experience, one filled with mutual desire and understanding. Her reaction was immediate, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink as a shy smile played at the corners of her lips. The warmth of her blush was a contrast to the coolness of the plastic, adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment.

“Just sit on my lap, yeh?” you continued, your voice gentle and reassuring. “I want to kiss you for a bit.” Your words were an invitation, a way to create a space where you could both indulge in the closeness and affection that had brought you together.

As you spoke, you could see the effect your words had on her. The initial shyness in her expression gave way to a more open, trusting look, her eyes reflecting both her anticipation and her desire to be close to you. The promise of a kiss, combined with the gentle teasing, had a way of making her blush even more furiously, her entire demeanour radiating both excitement and tenderness.

You readjusted yourself comfortably against the pillows, your posture open and inviting, as you guided her to sit on your lap. The arrangement was intimate, placing her in a position where she could feel your heartbeat, where every breath she took would be felt against your chest. As she complied, her body pressed close to yours, you took a moment to savour the closeness, to feel the warmth and softness of her against you.

With a tender touch, you cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks. The contact was intimate and reassuring, a way to show her how much you cherished these moments of connection. “My beautiful girl,” you sighed softly, smiling at the way her chest puffed up just a little.

You leaned in slowly, each movement deliberate and filled with intention. Your lips found hers in a kiss that was both soft and lingering, a gentle exploration that spoke of the deep affection and desire that had been simmering between you. The kiss began with a tender touch, a feather-light brush that seemed to hover for a moment before deepening.

As your lips connected, you could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with yours, the sweet, intimate sensation of her closeness. The kiss was more than just a physical act; it was a silent conversation, a way to express the emotions that words could barely capture. It was slow and deliberate, a careful dance of lips and breath that conveyed the depth of your feelings.

She responded eagerly, her lips moving against yours with a sense of urgency that matched the intensity of the moment. Her passion was palpable, and it only served to heighten the connection you shared. Her tongue slipped into your mouth with a bold, enthusiastic push, its warmth and softness adding a new layer to the kiss. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure, unfiltered desire that sent a thrill through both of you.

The kiss deepened as she explored your mouth with a growing intensity, her tongue brushing against yours in a way that was both playful and possessive. The connection between you was tangible, each touch and movement an expression of the desire that had been building. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself responding with equal fervour, your hands sliding up to cradle her face as you matched her kiss for kiss.

The rhythm of the kiss became a symphony of sensation, a blend of soft caresses and passionate embraces. The initial tenderness gave way to a more urgent, fervent exploration, as if both of you were trying to savour every moment, to make the kiss last as long as possible. Your breaths came in shared gasps, the air between you thick with the heat of your desire.

In the midst of the kiss, you could feel the rhythm of her heart against your chest, the way her body pressed closer, seeking out the intimacy and connection that only this shared moment could provide. The kiss was a bridge between your souls, a way to communicate the depth of your feelings without the need for words.

As you continued to kiss, the world outside seemed to dissolve into insignificance, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and passion. The external noise and distractions faded into a distant hum, barely registering against the backdrop of your shared intimacy. It was as if time had slowed down, allowing you both to savour each moment of the kiss without interruption or concern.

Kissing Alexia was, without a doubt, one of your favourite activities. Each kiss was a revelation, a tender exploration of the deep connection that existed between you. The way she tasted was intoxicating, a delicate blend of sweetness and warmth that lingered on your lips long after the kiss had ended. Her unique flavour was a subtle reminder of her essence, a taste of the intimacy you shared.

The way she sighed happily against you was equally enchanting. Her contented murmurs were a testament to the pleasure she was experiencing, the soft sounds of her satisfaction resonating through your shared embrace. Each sigh was like a gentle caress, a sign that she was fully immersed in the moment, enjoying every second of the closeness and affection.

The warmth of her body was another cherished aspect of your kisses. As she pressed against you, you could feel the heat radiating from her, a comforting sensation that made you feel incredibly connected and alive. Her body seemed to mould perfectly against yours, creating a harmonious blend of warmth and tenderness that was both soothing and exhilarating.

In those moments, everything else ceased to matter. The kiss was a world unto itself, a space where you could both be completely present, free from the worries and pressures of everyday life. The connection between you was palpable, a silent communication of love and desire that transcended words.

When you finally pulled back, it was with a reluctant but satisfied sigh, the kiss having fulfilled its promise of deep connection and mutual desire. You looked into her eyes, which were still filled with the same fervent emotion, the same longing that had driven the kiss. Your lips were tingling from the intensity, and the taste of her lingered, a sweet reminder of the passion you had just shared.

“Por favor, mi amor,” Alexia begged, her voice trembling with a mixture of desire and desperation. “Can I sit on your cock now?” The words came out as a soft, pleading whine, tinged with a hint of impatience. Her tone was both sweet and needy, a clear indication of how deeply she wanted to move forward.

You chuckled softly, the sound a low, intimate rumble that vibrated with affection and amusement. The tender laughter was a response to the intensity of her request, a way to acknowledge her eagerness while enjoying the moment. Your fingers moved with a practiced grace, sliding gently down her body to trace a delicate path through her folds.

As your fingers made contact, you could immediately feel the wetness that had gathered there. She was soaked, her arousal evident in the slick, heated sensation against your touch. It was a reminder of how responsive she was to your kisses, how a simple moment of intimacy could leave her dripping with desire. With Alexia, this was always the case – more than a minute of kissing and she would be positively drenched, her body reacting eagerly to the feel of your lips on hers.

“You’re soaked, beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with admiration. “Is this all for me?” you asked, your words imbued with a mixture of awe and affection.

“Sí, sí. Todo para ti, sólo para ti,” she replied breathlessly, her voice a soft, trembling whisper. Her response was fervent, her eyes shimmering with both longing and vulnerability. As she spoke, her blonde hair tumbled forward, cascading around her face like a curtain. The golden strands fell gently in front of you, effectively blocking out the outside world and creating an intimate cocoon where only the two of you existed.

“Well, I am honored, baby,” you said with a sincere smile. Your words were a tender acknowledgment of her eagerness, a way to express just how much her readiness meant to you. Her reaction was immediate; she sighed happily, a soft, content sound that resonated with the warmth of your words.

“Be a good girl for me, Ale,” you continued gently, your tone both commanding and tender. “Sit on my cock. Go carefully.” The instructions were clear but spoken with a careful consideration, a reminder of your attentiveness to her needs and desires. “I know you want to feel the stretch,” you added, a hint of understanding in your voice. “But I don’t want you hurting yourself.” The concern in your words was genuine, reflecting your deep care for her well-being and your desire to ensure that her experience was both pleasurable and safe.

Alexia was always amazed at how well you seemed to know her. The way you could often anticipate her desires before she fully articulated them was a constant source of wonder for her. Your understanding of her needs, coupled with your ability to express those needs with such precision, made her feel deeply connected to you. It was as though you had an intuitive grasp of her wants and boundaries, an ability to make every moment together feel profoundly satisfying.

Reaching down, she carefully lined herself up, slowly inching her way onto the dildo. It burned in the best way – the subtle pain and waves of pleasure easing Alexia’s mind in a way that only this could bring. When she was with you, she was weightless – all of her needs were taken care of, she didn’t need to think or do, she could just be … just be Ale, your beautiful girl.

She felt your thumb descend softly onto her clit; the touch delicate yet deliberate. The sensation of your skin brushing against her sensitive flesh was electric, sending a shiver through her body. You began to rub in slow, purposeful circles, each motion carefully calibrated to enhance her pleasure without overwhelming her. The rhythmic pressure of your thumb against her clit caused her breath to hitch sharply as she bottomed out.

The way you touched her was a tender mixture of affection and desire, a gentle exploration that was as much about connection as it was about physical pleasure. The slow circles you traced were hypnotic, creating a soothing yet stimulating rhythm that made her body respond with increasing eagerness. Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps, each hitch a testament to the growing pleasure coursing through her.

“You’re so pretty, Ale,” you murmured softly, your voice filled with admiration and warmth. The compliment was a loving acknowledgment of her beauty and the way she responded to your touch. Your words were a balm to her heightened emotions, a way to make her feel cherished and adored in this intimate moment.

“And you listened so well,” you continued, the praise flowing naturally from your lips. Your words were not just about her physical response but also about her attentiveness to your desires and instructions. It was a recognition of how well she had followed your lead, how perfectly she had aligned with the intimate dance you were sharing.

“Such a beautiful girl for me,” you added, the final touch of your praise imbued with deep affection.

Alexia sighed deeply, the sound a mixture of contentment and relief as she leaned forward to rest her face against your neck. The warmth of her breath and the softness of her skin felt incredibly comforting, a tangible reminder of the closeness you shared. Her body relaxed against yours, the fear from her nightmare long gone.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, your heart swelling with affection. Gently, you pressed a tender kiss to the side of her head, your lips brushing softly against her hair.

With one hand, you held her waist steadily, you fingers splayed and grip firmer to keep her grounded. With the other, you let your fingers trail delicately under the edge of her top, the touch light and exploratory. The sensation of your fingertips against her skin was soothing, creating a gentle, comforting rhythm that matched the intimate atmosphere. You traced soft patterns across her back and sides, each movement purposeful and filled with affection. Your touch was a tactile expression of your love, a way to convey the depth of your feelings without words.

Occasionally, your fingers spelled out small, loving messages against her skin. You wrote your name and hers in flowing cursive, a private reminder of the personal connection you shared. The letters were delicate, each one a testament to your appreciation for her and the uniqueness of your relationship.

In addition to names, you inscribed the words "I love you" in various languages you knew, each phrase a reflection of the global nature of your affection. From the simple “I love you” in English to the tender “Te amo” in Spanish, and “Je t’aime” in French, you created a mosaic of expressions that spanned cultures and languages. Each phrase was written with care, the letters forming a silent but powerful testament to the breadth and depth of your emotions.

The tactile sensations, combined with the loving words, created a moment of profound connection. Alexia’s contented sighs and relaxed demeanour were a testament to the comfort and love she felt in your presence. The physical touch, the affectionate words, and the gentle exploration all combined to form a rich tapestry of intimacy that made the moment feel incredibly special and deeply meaningful.

As you continued to trace patterns and write loving messages on her skin, the room seemed to grow even quieter, the outside world fading into the background. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment of pure, unspoken connection that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other. Each touch and word was a celebration of your bond, a way to make Alexia feel cherished and adored in the most intimate and heartfelt way.

“Close your eyes, my beautiful girl. I’ll be here for you in the morning.” You whispered, letting your words wash over Alexia as she slowly slipped back into sleep’s embrace.

“T’estimo,” she mumbled.

“I love you,” you replied.

[celestialprincesse]

Hello!!! Your biggest protector Simon fluff was SO cute!! Could we get an extension of that where he also gives you the confidence to do difficult things, and where you feel safe trying new things or messing up around him? (I know my anxiety really limits what I am willing to try, or makes me feel like I always have to be perfect or constantly apologize)

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

When you'd told Simon that you wanted to start going to the gym, you hadn't quite expected him to buy you a membership at the fancy place he and all of his friends frequent, mainly because they get a veterans discount - not to mention the fancy body wash and soft towels.

You'd not even had to dig through your drawers to find something resembling decent activewear, not when he'd unceremoniously chucked a pair of Lululemon leggings at your head, muttering about how he'd looked up the best women's sportswear and they'd been the most recommended choice.

Of course, you'd failed to consider that there'd be other people at Simon's fancy gym, people that know him, no less. You suddenly feel very, very out of your depths. As always, he recognises your discomfort almost immediately.

"Was thinking we could just start slow." He attempts to comfort you, a hand on the small of your back, herding you like a frightened animal towards one of the machines, which looks more like a torture device than workout equipment. "See what you like, what you don't, get a feel of stuff, yeah?"

Chewing at your cheek, you give a noncommittal "Mm", nodding in an attempt to seem enthused, engaged and not worrying about the unfairly glorious people who seem to know exactly what they're doing, and without breaking a sweat no less.

The anxiety from being the only one there who doesn't seem to know anything only worsens when he sets you up on the lat machine. Your cheeks burn even redder when he sets it to the lowest weight. Before you can protest, he settles his hands over yours on the bar, the touch immediately soothing. "Everyone starts somewhere. Let's not run before we can walk."

Over the next couple of simple reps, he's careful to correct your form, or tell you how great you're doing, how you're practically a natural. You know he's just trying to hype you up enough to stop overthinking, but you're still happy about his support nonetheless. So happy, in fact, that you walk out of the gym with a big, cheesy grin on your face, and an unexpected excitement for tomorrow's session.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

I know you've written something similar with Bucky hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child buy what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Rayleigh got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child

hii!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay (about the hearing heartbeats as don’t think he can do that) but I love the idea!! other fic is HERE. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIVE WEEKS SINCE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — fluff/ angst?

word count. 957

Over a month ago, you and Bucky made the mistake of sharing a hotel room, and it consequentially led to the pair of you indulging in those romantic feelings you knew you always had for each other. At the time, it felt far from a misstep, but the awkwardness that followed made it all feel like a huge mistake. 

A following three weeks later —two weeks ago— you found out some life-altering information - discovering that you were pregnant. You knew that it was the work of you and Bucky during that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to share the news. Recently, he's acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt completely isolated as you wallowed in the feeling by yourself.

During those weeks of uncertainty, you confided in Natasha, essentially using her for support until you worked up enough courage to tell Bucky. She was far more helpful than she gave herself credit for, and slowly but surely, you started to get there in terms of bravery.

You were all currently spending the night at a safe house, sleeping over to resume your mission the next day. Everyone grouped off to share rooms.

It was late, all but you sure to be fast asleep. But you couldn't drift off, something undecided going on with your body - you couldn't figure out what it needed; was it food, water? Something to steady the nauseous feeling in your gut? You weren't sure, so you decided to head down to the kitchen, creeping out of the room quietly, trying not to wake Nat.

As you make your way downstairs, you see the silhouette of someone in the fridge, their back dark - the outline of them lit up by the yellow-white light. You wanted to turn around, not wanting to talk in your moody, tired state, but it was too late. The creak of the last few steps alerting them of your presence.

It was Bucky. And the look on his face was just as uncomfortable as yours.

"I'm just about to go," he murmurs, avoiding you, turning his attention to the open cupboard of glasses.

You roll your neck, working out the kink as you step into the kitchen - it wasn't small, but the space was far too tight for two people who couldn't bear to be in the same room. "No, it's fine. I was just getting a drink," you shrug, standing off to the side of him as you wait to collect a glass. 

Instead, he turns to you, handing you one. "Juice is on the counter," he nods, gesturing to the island behind.

"Thanks," you smile reasonably, uncapping the bottle and pouring yourself a glass. But when Bucky steps over, you hand him yours, taking his to fill for yourself. 

He takes a quick swig and thanks you, looking around the room awkwardly.

"Do you know where the cookies are?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.

He nods softly and reaches into another cupboard, pulling out a pack of cookies. He opens the packet and hands it to you, acting courteous.

"Thank you," you smile sweetly, offering him the first one. 

With a soft shake of his head, he declines.

"Can't sleep?" you ask. 

"No. You?"

"No."

And as he begins to step back, you decide to speak up - not wanting him to leave just yet. "Hey, uhm," you pause, fiddling with the cookie wrapper. "We haven't really spoken... how you been?" 

"Uh, doing good," he nods faintly, clearly holding back. "Have you— are you good?" 

You nod, also holding back. 

"Good," he nods, lips in a forced straight line. Feet turning away, itching to leave the room.

"James," you hesitated, clutching at straws - desperate to keep him around just a little longer.

His movement halts, and he twists back to face you. The simple call of his real name brings back memories of the two of you before all the awkwardness. 

"I'm..." you inhale sharply, thinking of the words. "I need to tell you something, and I—" you shake your head, stilling your wavering voice. 

He takes a small step closer, leaving a comfortable distance between you. "Tell me what?" he asks, the desperation clear in his eyes - his body language growing anxious.

"A couple weeks ago... I found out I'm pregnant," you whisper, momentarily closing your eyes - cowering away. "And I don't know what to do," you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. "It's a lot... and I didn't know how to tell you, but you should know."

The silence is deafening. Bucky's being far too quiet, and it makes you feel sick. You finally meet his gaze and watch the contrasting emotions play out on his face - he's clearly trying to process it all. 

"I know the timing isn't great, and things aren't good with us," you try to be mature, attempting to patch things over. "It was a shock for me too, but I just..." you sigh, waiting for him to say something. "I don't expect anything from you, it's okay. I get it."

He nods, seeming to have collected himself. "Let's talk everything over, okay? Talk it all through, clear the air," he offers with a half smile, closing the gap with another step forward. 

"Now?" you ask, thrown off by his sudden cooperation and interest. 

"Yeah, we'll sit on the back porch," he nods through the kitchen window, gesturing to the deck chairs. "You tell me everything, I'll tell you everything. We'll sort this out."

You're pleased with the progress you're making, and your forced smile turns into a real one - the first real one he's seen of yours in a while. "Yeah. I'd like that."

I spent way too long trying to understand the pregnancy time frame of conception and implantation😭😭

[i-am-the-n1-trash]

I'm rereading Tim Drake: Robin and honestly, Tim and Bernard's relationship just makes me so emotional. The fact that they both see each other as the 'bad one' in the relationship, with the other being their 'savior' says so much about their previous relationships.

Tim's biggest canon relationship is obviously Steph and, though I love her to death, their relationship was at points extremely unhealthy, and Tim was often shamed for his actions. He's the bad guy when Bruce won't let him tell her his name. He's the bad guy when Darla kisses him without consent. He's the bad guy for avoiding her when she comes back from faking her own death (against her will, I'm aware, but still), even though their relationship hadn't been in good terms at all when she 'died'.

Though Tim has his fair share of romantic relationships, only two outside of Steph, to me, are as meaningful or well-known enough to warrant exploring, and those are Ariana and Tam (There was definitely guilt with Lynx, but that was from the "she's possibly a criminal" kind, and his issues with Cassie come from a very different place too.)

In both these relationships, there are many times where Tim sees himself as the bad guy. With Ariana, he struggles with his growing feelings for Steph and the guilt of keeping a secret identity from someone he loves, not to mention the fact this is his first serious relationship and he constantly feels like he's messing up. With Tam, the secret isn't a problem anymore, but he ends up constantly putting her in danger just from knowing him, and that puts him off the idea of pursuing a relationship with her altogether.

With Bernard, though, it's the first time in a long time he has a complete fresh start. He's been stuck in a cycle of breaking up and making up with Steph, because they see each other as safe and familiar, but even that is something Tim feels guilty for.

Bernard is someone he knew, who Tim has enough history with to trust him, but who he is still getting to know now as the adults they've become, with no expectations of each other. He still sees himself as the bad guy, as the liar hiding his identity from him. They have a couple step backs, like when Tim has to ask him about the cult as Robin, but even then Bernard makes it clear that while he's angry, he understands why he's doing it, by doubling down on the fact that, regardless of Tim's current actions, their relationship is still a happy part of Bernard's life. (This comfort doesn't work that well, because Tim is a dumbass who doesn't realize Bernard knows he's Robin, but I digress.)

Essentially, to Tim, Bernard is the first baggage-free relationship he's had for a very long time, and he's somewhat plagues by the secrets he's keeping from him. To Tim, he is lying and putting him in danger, and Bernard, who he sees as a bright light in his life, deserves better.

On the other hand, we don't have that much info on Bernard's past relationships outside of Darla/Laura and Tim, but it's still easy to see that this boy is overflowing with self-deprecation.

In both Batman: Urban Legends and Tim Drake: Robin we see that his parents are, in the first one, very unaware of his life, and, in the second one, incredibly disapproving of his 'lifestyle' and even borderline emotionally abusive. Bernard really never met their expectations since he was young, and while he seems almost dismissive of this, you can tell it strikes him deep.

The one big thing we know about Bernard is the cult, and that already tells us everything we need to know. No one joins a cult if they have lot of self-love and confidence, especially not when the cult's main idea is to let go of all your problems through torture.

So when Tim, a guy he's had a crush on for years, someone he knows (or eventually finds out, the timeline is ambiguous) is not only a superhero, but his favorite superhero, Robin, he sees himself as dirty. As tainting Tim's heroism. Bernard is a likely depressed queer kid who fell victim to a cult, who has a history of self harm, with a bad relationship with his parents. To him, Tim is the one good thing in his life, and he says it outright even when they are having what's possibly their first big fight (unbeknownst to Tim, who, as I mentioned, is a dumbass <3).

He doesn't blame Tim at all for lying or keeping a secret identity, because Bernard sees himself as second to Robin in Tim's eyes and never once tries to fight back on that idea. Bernard considers Robin to be more important than himself, in general, and doesn't see anything wrong with that. To Bernard, Tim is the best thing that has ever happened to him, and the fact that they're dating is a blessing he doesn't believe he deserves.

In conclusion, these should like. Talk to each other. Please. And also both go to therapy. They love each other so much

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Final]

They told you to be careful with him, that he's much more than meets the eye, but you'd been convinced that you had him all figured out; all bark and no bite, just like any other big buff alpha you've met before. Oh how wrong you were.

Tags/Warnings: werewolf!kook, Alpha!kook, werewolf!reader, omega!reader, fluff, biting, manhandling, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex (an implant is mentioned we practice safe sex even in our imagination after all), Size kink because it's me writing this get over it, strength kink because it's me writing this get over it², drooling oops, scratching, knotting, happy ending Yay

Length: ~4k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Do not expect anything groundbreaking. I didn't know how to end this.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

Inside Jungkook’s cabin, you’re safe.

Here it’s warm, it smells like him and now, slowly but surely, yourself as well. It’s comfortable, you’re protected, and held gently by him right by your side. Here is where you actually want to live forever, inside, even if you were never allowed to leave ever again. The woods around you don’t matter, nor does your freedom-

All you want, and really need, is in here.

There’s a low, almost purring sound coming from the alpha behind you, his arms wrapping around you a bit tighter, as if he remembers in his waking moments that you’re actually still here, and not just a product of his imagination. He takes in a deep breath before he stretches his legs once, kissing the back of your shoulder, halfway still asleep.

Even so, with how close he is behind your body, you can clearly feel that something else about him is waking up as well.

You teasingly press yourself into him, which almost instantly gives you a response- his tender kisses turning into bites, as he scolds you non-verbally, even when his mind isn’t quite conscious yet. “Good morning.” He mumbles, laughs a bit when you turn around in his arms to cuddle right back into him, yawning once. “Slept well?” he mumbles, and you nod.

He can sense that you’re very happy in here, and he takes great pride in that- feeling good with the fact that you’ve obviously accepted his home as yours too.

But there’s also something else you seem to seek right now, as you place your own kisses against his neck, trying to somehow swoon him into a response again, maybe to finally receive his love in a more physical way. And he wants that too- but not right now. He wants to be fully awake and alert for an experience like that, and not somewhat semi-conscious like right now.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t allow to play with you a little bit.

When your hands begin to travel over his body, he doesn’t object that at all- simply watches with hooded, halfway opened eyes how you blindly reach for him, hand over his already sensitive length inside his underwear a little hesitant, unsure, but curious all the same. It’s the first time you’re the one initiating something actively- usually, you only really give him a sign, before letting him do most of the active play. But maybe because you feel so safe and comfortable in his home, you also feel more confident in your actions-

Or your patience is simply wearing thin at this point.

Either way, he thoroughly enjoys your touch fully, even adjusting his legs beneath the blankets to instead move to lay on his back, making you move around to leave him alone for just a moment- before you lay yourself over him, warm core right above his only somewhat hidden length. The fact that only some thin, fragile clothing separates you both from one another makes him sensitive- the thought of how easy it would be to just rip those poor items of clothing at their seams to provide him access to you enough to cause him to stir a little beneath you.

His hands automatically find your waist before he wraps his arms around you again, moving them again to hold your face and kiss you, still somewhat tired. You remember your first kiss, yesterday, almost entirely without any thought- and ever since then, it’s clear that he really enjoys having his lips on yours. He’s also been going further and further with you- and the line has been blurring more and more, as he accepts and provides more intimate touches every single time you’re together in such a way. From his more fleeting touches back at your old pack’s house, to what you are doing right now- your core pressing against his length, shamelessly humping him beneath all the heavy blankets, desperate for him to feel just as much as you do.

And he does feel it.

His hands move again as you kiss him a lot more desperately now, running over your sides before they rest over your behind, grabbing the flesh just to let go right after. You sigh in bliss, lean into him as you move your hips a bit harsher, chasing your release, and subsequently also pushing him towards his own. He can only imagine what it will be like once he has you close like this without anything between you both- just two bodies connecting in the most intimate of ways, finalizing their bond with one another.

His eyes close as he feels his own peak approaching, your hips stuttering as he grabs your behind once again, forcing you to keep moving keep pushing him over the edge while you ride out your own high, underwear absolutely soaked in your essence, before he spills his seed as well.

He could happily just keep it at this, and he’d still be satisfied with it, he’s sure of it.

You both lay just like that a little longer, both bathing in your shared afterglow, as well as the closeness you both feel for just a bit more. You notice how he’s clearly waking up now, eyes opening up more as he watches you become more and more aware as well, sleep leaving your body with every waking moment that passes by. “Jungkook?” You ask, and he hums a reply, smiling softly at you. “I noticed.. Your eyes.” You mention, and he nods, urging you to continue. “Why do they always show the golden ring?” You wonder, finally remembering to ask him about it.

It’s been on your mind for quite some time now- but up until now, you never really got around to ask for it. And you also didn’t want to ask around, in case its something personal- you rather ask him yourself like this, and have him explain something curious like this. Maybe it’s just a random anomaly? Some birth defect, or just a hiccup of nature?

“I’m.. What’s called moonlit.” He explains, brushing some of your hair from your shoulder. “I was born on a full moon, to explain it simply. Which both.. Caused my eyes to kind of get ‘stuck’ in this state, and also my.. Senses to stay heightened.” He says, and you nod.

“So.. What I for example experience during a full moon..” You start, and he smiles.

“I basically live that every day.” He finishes, telling you that your thought’s are correct. And you feel a bit bad for him- because you know you struggle hard during that time to really handle yourself and your inner instincts. To think that he’s basically always battling them gives you a different point of view almost, like you’re seeing him from a different perspective now. “I’ve grown used to it though.” He says, as if he can read your mind. “I’ve.. Come to accept that as a part of me. It’s annoying sometimes, it really is- but it’s not like I can change it. So why bother getting frustrated over it?” He chuckles, and you nod. “Also makes me kind of special, so that’s cool too.” He jokes, before you lean into him, clinging to him.

“You’re already special to me.” You tell him. “Even if you weren’t born like this.” You say, and you can’t see it-

But he actually blushes a little, caught off guard by your honest words.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

You're getting to know these woods surprisingly quickly in his opinion- and he also notices quite quickly, that you’re a lot more independent than the wolves in his pack usually tend to be.

His pack is a very tight knit community, and everyone almost clings to someone- friends stay in groups, socializing is a big thing, and no one is ever alone. But you tend to even escape some settings as if you can’t handle being around others for long- making him worried that something might be troubling you. “how come you’re by yourself?” He asks as he sits down next to you on the large tree truck that’s been made into a bench for people to sit around the large fire pit. It’s nighttime, cicadas singing and owls howling in the distance, while everyone’s busy either talking, or getting ready for bed, as they all participate in some proper bonding activities. Some have shifted, and are grooming each other, while others are in their human form still just like you and Jungkook, casually talking.

“I just.. I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’m not lonely though! I just like to be by myself.” You explain, and he nods.

“I’ll have to believe that, I guess.” He admits defeat playfully, before he pulls you closer to him as you both watch the fire in front of you.

“You can go to your friends, you know?” You giggle. “no need to babysit me.”

“Oh but I want to!” He denies. “I love being close to you. Do you want some space?” He offers, unsure now. Maybe he’s been pushing himself onto you?

“No, It’s fine.” You shake your head however, pacifying his worries. “I like being close to you, too.” You admit, leaning into him while he purrs in utter happiness.

He knows it can’t be easy to just start living in a different place, all with different people and different surroundings too. But you seem to take it easy, even coming out of your shell a little, here and there. It’s obvious you still have to learn a lot more about his pack and all its habits and customs, but you’ll get there, Jungkook is sure of that.

You belong at his side, after all. He’d even start a new pack if he had to in order to keep you at his side.

Back in your now shared cabin, Jungkook is instantly all over you again. You’ve noticed that he’s been getting more and more.. needy almost for this kind of affection, and you figure it might be because the full moon is soon approaching. “I though you’re.. always stuck in your moon-phase?” You giggle when he nips at the crook of your neck where his mark is yet to be placed.

“doesn’t mean I don’t feel it’s effects weighing down on me harder the more the moon shows herself.” He growls into your skin, shamelessly running his tongue over the spot before he kisses it.

“Jungkook..-“ you gasp, but he doesn’t let you speak much further.

“I dont think I can wait.” He sighs out, and you now notice the way his hands seem to be trembling on your skin. “I don’t think I can take another night.” He admits, and you feel for him.

Being stuck in the moon-phase is one thing- having your chosen mate being dangled in front of you while having to keep your hands to yourself must be agonizing, especially now. You have an implant which prevents your heat and possible pregnancy, but that doesn’t mean the moon doesn’t enhance your scent and appeal to him.

“You think the moon will.. look away for a second?” You giggle, and he growls again, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I don’t mind if you take me tonight.” You offer, and at that, he pushes you backwards, before you’re handled impatiently into the nest he’d made for you and him, every pillow in his way kicked out without any mercy. His eyes are entirely golden now, proving how he’s slowly taken over by the wolfblood in his veins, and you feel for him. It must be tough having to somehow keep yourself in check all day long, every day. But that’s the reason wolves aren’t supposed to mate during certain times of the year, just so something like Jungkook can’t happen- because every other person would’ve probably not be able to restrain themselves to such a degree he’s able to.

“I think she’ll make an exception for us.” You tell him, as he boldly grips your clothes to just rip them open, uncaring of ruining the items. And the sheer display of strength and force does something to you- a submissive but clearly not fearful whimper escaping you, not going unnoticed by the alpha currently sitting above your body.

He leans down to kiss you with no care for staying tame or controlled, tongue running over your bottom lip before he dives back in, quite literally stealing your breath. His hands are meanwhile busy exploring your exposed skin, digging out your breasts from your underwear to grab at them, thumb flicking your already hardened buds.

If it’s supposed to work up your appetite for him, it’s clearly working.

He’s eager in shedding his own clothes, skin and ink revealed to you as his muscles flex under the moonlight bleeding in through the gaps in the curtains covering the windows. His hardened length is already leaking, right onto your lower stomach, so close to where you want him most. He knows he can just take you however he pleases. You’ve talked about this before, and you’re glad he did.

Because you know, in this moment, he will not hold back. The need to fill you up and claim you as his too much to handle, especially not with you so ready and eagerly waiting beneath him.

He pushes his own legs against yours, forcing yours to move up and expose yourself more to him, limbs resting over his thighs as be ruts against your already wet core. He purrs lowly against your neck, gripping your wrists to push them into the bed below, before you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Even in times like this he seems to find pleasure in teasing you, as he never pushes further, never gives you what you want until you’re whimpering again, quietly begging for him to just take you.

And he grants you that whish, finally slipping inside, as far as he can go before you jump a little in discomfort. He waits for you to adjust, makes sure to reassure you with kisses and comforting touches, before he notices you moving to see if you’re ready.

And once he knows you are, he finally begins his chase.

As if he’s finally breathing freely, he’s able to let go of his own shackles he’s put on himself for a moment, releasing all the pent up energy he’s been bottling up over the course of time. He usually runs it off or works out until his body gives up, but with you, he’s potentially found a new way to vent it all out. Because he can feel that you’re truly meant for him. A mate chosen by the moon herself, perfectly fit to handle him and his instincts.

You’re turned around for easier handling, and you don’t even bother thinking about anything anymore, simply giving yourself into his hands- hands that are more than eager to hold and grab at any flesh they can touch. You can feel his canine teeth in the skin of your neck, biting, eager to mark you up before he finalizes the bond with a final bite placed in a spot he himself will choose. Where will he place it?

You’ll soon find out.

But right now he’s busy pressing his hips into you as far as he can go, your body continuously rocking back and forth under the force of his thrusts, while his fingers dig into the skin of your waist to keep you in place. But they wander, eager to explore and hold, unsure even in where they want to stay and how they want to move you. And so one of his hands moves to hold you upright against him, back arched as one of his palms holds your neck to have your head next to his, mind intoxicated by your scent so close.

The sounds are obscene, but neither of you have any energy in your brains left to really care about that.

You don’t even realize the saliva that’s dripping down your chin, but he definitely does- the sight of you so entirely out of your mind doing something to him on a primal level. He’s got you entirely under his control, and he knows to value this as a giant sign of trust towards him- trust that he’s not ever going to throw away, no matter what. Because with the way the can feel his body start to exhaust, a unique and new feeling he’s not yet felt like this before, he knows that you’re truly it for him.

His one and only. There’s no one else he’d rather have.

So his bite is placed, teeth digging into your flesh, once, twice, and one more time to truly seal the bond forever. Your body shudders in pleasure, hands reaching onto nothingness before you find his thighs, accidentally scratching his skin- but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Instead, he can feel the way he reaches his peak, moment of bliss completely blinding him for a moment as he holds you close, pushing himself in deep to make sure that you don’t spill a single drop of his release.

And you can’t- not with the way his knot locks you both into place, two bodies breathing heavily with exhaustion, laying closely together while you try and come back down from your high.

The afterglow you both share is blissful, no thoughts in your minds as Jungkook carefully nurses the wound he created, arms keeping you close while he still occasionally twitches inside you. Slowly you pull a stray pillow closer to you, hiding your face in it in shame as you realize the way you just acted like a bitch in heat- but he doesn’t like the way you’re trying to shy away from him. His hand pulls the pillow away before he kisses your neck and cheek, careful not to move too much with his knot still inside you, potentially hurting you if he was to somehow move too quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing your embarrassment, voice a bit hoarse as he speaks. “Are you not happy?” He worries, but you shake your head.

“I am.” You say. “It’s just..” You drift off, shivering a little as your skin begins to cool down again, something he immediately notices as his hands reach out to a blanket close by, which he puts over your body the best he can. He himself is still high when it comes to body temperature- normal with wolves, so its not surprising.

“You were very attractive.” He teases almost, running his nose over the crook of your neck, careful to avoid your bonding mark for now until it’s healed. “You’ll always be. Don’t even worry about that.” He reassures you, having realized what you must be so shy about. “Even now I can barely keep my hands to myself..” He purrs, and you whine.

“You’re still inside!” You complain, thinking he might just be playing around- but he’s twitching again, making it clear that he isn’t just teasing you. At least, not entirely.

“How can a man be so easily satiated with a mate like that?” He tells you, no question asked even though it’s masked as one. You already realize that there’s something.. New about him. The way he speaks, the ease in which he touches, breathing slow and steady. Like he’s breathing freely for once, no need for always having his guard up just in case.

Is it just the exhaustion? Or something else?

“Hm, I want to stay here forever.” He purrs, nuzzling closer to you.

“But we should at least clean up.” You giggle, noticing the way he softens up inside you, slowly slipping out of you. It’s an odd feeling, and it’s not entirely pleasant, but all good things must come to an end at some point. “Now, preferably. Before you’ll fall asleep on me, big bad dog.” You tease, and he gently nips at your neck where you’re not injured, a very distinctive playfulness in his mood, even though you’re both tired.

“What if I’ll take you in the shower again, while we clean up?” He suggests, and you laugh, finally able to get yourself into a seating position again, ready to escape him into the shower-

But he’s hot on your heels, not yet ready to call it a night just yet.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

“I heard Yoongis mate has returned to him.” Jungkook says, as you’re both laying inside his cabin, fireplace warming everything up and spending a soft, golden light. He’s just returned from a small trip back to your former pack’s home- a standard routine, now that you’ve been ‘exchanged’ for Seokjin’s mate.

He’s got to basically always give Yoongi an update on you and your wellbeing until one full year has passed, and you’ve been fully introduced to the new pack.

“Really? Where was she?” You wonder, head resting on his chest while he holds your hand in his, both of you watching the small flames eat away at the wood he’s fed into the fireplace earlier.

“An accident, he’d said.” Jungkook informs you. “She’s.. Lost all her memories.” He reveals, and you feel for Yoongi. Losing a mate is already painful enough- but being re-introduced just to realize they don’t remember you at all must be like losing them twice.

“Oh no..” You mumble, worrying.

“But they were clearly meant for one another.” Jungkook reassures you. “They were.. Very close. Clearly bonded already.” He chuckles, aware that his choice of words must be enough to tell you just how close they seemed to be even after all of what they’ve been through.

“They.. Got together again?” You ask, and he nods.

“Inseparable, really. It was pretty amusing to see your pack alpha be this.. Docile.” He says, still laughing just thinking about the way Yoongi turned instantly soft and gentle at just a bat of his mate’s lashes.

But he understands. He understands so well.

He too would fall in love with you no matter how many lifes he’ll get to live again and again. He knows he would always somehow find you again, love you again, just the same as before. Because you’re not just his chosen mate-

You've become much more than that.

[tarotbydelilah444]

what about you turns your person on 💋

pile i • red jasper

ace of pentacles • seven of pentacles • seven of wands • ten of cups • nine of wands

For starters, your stubbornness arouses your person. It’s your way or the highway, but this attitude seems to turn your person on even more because they like how you are sure of yourself and know exactly what you want and you will not stop until you’ve achieved exactly what you desire. This person likes how you don’t seem like a freak on the outside, and that you keep this part of yourself repressed and hidden like a classy lady in the streets, but they know that you are a freak in the sheets. For some, your person could be aware that you are a freak, but you may be self-conscious to admit or show them exactly how you get down because maybe you are religious, or you don’t want your person to have a negative perception of you, but your person wants to nurture and encourage this other side to you with confidence and comfortability without feeling a sense of shame. Your person could also be a sapiosexual, so they are aroused by your intelligence and how you challenge them to think beyond the surface and think about things from a more intense & intimate perspective (their beliefs, values, opinions, etc). They appreciate how they can learn new things and perspectives from you because this keeps them on their toes and craving for the next thing. They are aroused and attracted to your natural beauty (some of you could be thick, and they love and worship your beautiful curves, specifically your a$$, thighs, and hips. Your person likes how wet you can get and fantasizes about fertilizing your garden (ifykyk) because they strongly believe that you are their ideal partner to build a future with and to carry on their legacy. For some, when you finally put your guard down in between the sheets, your person likes how dominate and aggressive you can be, or you like it when your person takes control and knows how to handle you, and this drives your person absolutely mad with passion. Your person is also aroused by how innocent and shy you portray yourself when they know that you are a very nasty & freaky girl, but they also wish that you would trust them enough to fully let your guard down and be absolutely vulnerable with them when the two of you get intimate. You person wants to ensure you that you are safe and protected at all cost when you intimately share yourself with them.

messages from your person

Let me slap you up. I’ll make you act right.

Sit on it.

I know you love it when I put my hands around your neck.

I want to tie you up.

I’ll let you dominate me and tell me whatever to do. 

Stop running from this d*ck.

God, I love how innocent you look, even though we both know that’s far from the truth.

channeled messages | timid, surrender, peace, Gaia, travel, 9th house, 12th house, August, December, stubborn, Aries, Leo, Sagittarius, Taurus, Capricorn, and Virgo, children, artistic, breeding kink

channeled songs • ♥️

pile ii • carnelian

the sun (rx) • four of pentacles • the moon • the wheel • four of wands

Your person is aroused by how complex and mysterious you are, or the fact that they cannot really figure you out which keeps them on their toes. It’s like you are multiple people in one and this is intriguing to this individual because they never know what side of you that they can expect. Your person could view you as conceited, and takes pride in their appearance, yet they find this extremely attractive and arousing because they like how confident you are and how you know and understand your worth. Your person is also aroused by how independent you are and that you get your own bag without depending on others, yet they wouldn’t mind spoiling you and giving to you, if you don’t mind. For some, your person may get aroused by simply providing for you, so buying you expensive gifts and taking you on lavish trips for the sake of companionship, and intimacy. Your person absolutely worships your body and finds it highly attractive. They love that you take care of yourself and your well-being. They could also love how unpredictable, daring, and playful you can be at times, as you are always down for a fun time and that you challenge them to do things outside of their comfort zone, and encourage them to explore the dark side with you, no matter the consequences. This person has a very active and imaginative mind, as they may have wild fantasies of what they would like / want to do to you in the bedroom, or what they want you to do to them. They like how you bring out this unconscious primal energy out of them that they could suppress, or they never fully understood until they became intimate with you. They get aroused how they can have you and no one else can and will never have you. Your person is bewitched by you and your beauty, that they feel like you put a spell on them and they are completely and unequivocally yours.

messages from your person

I’m your personal slave. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me and I will obey your every command.

I am hooked on you. Stroke me.

Let’s pleasure each other. We can reach our peak at the same time. Devour me. Suck and Swallow. channeled messages | baecation, 7th house, femme fatale, seductress, crossroads, Gaia, companions, gratitude, religious factors, Mexico, Europe, proposal, reconciliation, next year, complexity, June, “I try to forget about you,” sugar daddy, The Love Witch, Cancer, Leo, Aries, Sagittarius, Pisces, Scorpio, Aquarius, Taurus, Capricorn, and Virgo

channeled songs • 🥀

pile iii • garnet

the world • the lovers • the star • five of wands • six of wands

You and your person could be on a break during this time, or this could be an old flame that still clearly has feelings towards you. This person has made several attempts to move on from you and this connection, but they seem to be unsuccessful in their attempts because they are still stuck on you and regret how they fumbled you and this connection. This person feels like the two of you are soulmates and are meant to be together in this life and maybe in the next, so they may decide to spin the block very soon, in attempt, to win back your trust and heart. This may sound a bit crazy, but this person is turned on by how you’ve managed to get yourself on track and how you are standing on business since the two of you parted ways. They are turned on and impressed by your glow up on a physical, mental, emotional, and/or spiritual level, and how you’ve been able to find the strength and confidence to cut certain people, places, and things out of your life that could have been holding you back from your highest potential. They are turned on by your newfound confidence and independence, yet it also scares them because subconsciously, they know that you are content and can do bad all by yourself. This person could be turned on, yet threatened by the competition for your love, affection, and attention. They know that there are other people that have their eyes on you because you are the ultimate prize, but this person doesn’t mind because they are up for a challenge to win your heart by any means necessary. They are also turned on by how you play hard to get and that you always give them crumbs, but never the whole loaf of bread, which makes them want to come back for more every f*cking time. This person puts you a pedestal and find you to be absolutely & breathtakingly gorgeous. To this person, you are the perfect and ideal person in their eyes, as they find everything about you as so got damn sexy and effortless. This person is turned on how wet you got / get when the two of you get intimate. They truly believe that you are the best they ever had in terms of intimacy and as a partner. They may get turned on by the idea of impregnating you, and you being the greatest mother to their children. Overall, this person is absolutely head over heels in love with you and they cannot imagine their life without you in it, and they are determined to get that ole thing back.

messages from your person

I want to wake up next to you.

Let’s go half on a baby

You are the best I’ve ever had, no one can compete with you.

Just one last time, before I let you go.

I love it when you cum for me

channeled messages | Italy, car, unexpected bills, first house, sex symbol, vanilla sex, proposal, curses, “you are loved”, 333, introvert, January, “ I wonder if you’re happier without me,” “I tried to forget you,” Aquarius, Gemini, Scorpio, Taurus, Leo, trust, resolution, negativity, and soulmates

channeled songs • 💋

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part three

PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker

❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞

“Think she’s okay?”

“Shh!”

“What? No way she can hear us back here.”

“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”

Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.

For now.

And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?

Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.

Of course they knew.

But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.

A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.

“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”

“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.

“Yeah, this is it.”

And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.

❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞

Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.

And for a split second it felt okay.

Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.

You wished He hadn’t shown you.

Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.

Your best friend.

The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.

The reason why you weren’t going to run.

The reason this was all worth it.

“Ah, shit.”

Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.

“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.

A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.

“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.

Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.

“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.

“Thanks,” you mumbled back.

It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.

“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.

“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.

“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.

"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.

“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.

Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.

With you.

“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.

Jock. Asshole. King Steve.

No second chances, remember?

“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.

“Oh–sure, yeah.”

“Why are you really here?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.

“Why am I here?”

“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”

Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.

“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”

“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”

Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.

“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”

Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.

“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.

“Wait. Please?”

And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?

“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”

The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?

“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”

Really sorry.

Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?

Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.

“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.

He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.

You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.

“I know it doesn’t fix it.”

His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.

“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”

Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–

“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”

Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.

“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.

“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.

You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.

Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.

Oh.

Right.

The end of the world.

Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.

“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.

“What’s that?”

“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.

“What?”

Your cheeks grew hot.

“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”

Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.

Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.

“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”

“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.

“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”

Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.

“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”

He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.

“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.

It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.

“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”

The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.

“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”

“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.

“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–

“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.

“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.

“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.

King Steve turned Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington turned something else.

Something more.

Something you thought you’d written off.

Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[goldenroutledge]

intimidated

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

word count: 5.3k

summary: you’re there for jj when it matters most. (inspired by this post)

warning(s): sprinkles of angst, but fluffy in the end.

a/n: the song i had in mind while writing this was intimidated by kaytranada & h.e.r <3

jj maybank masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

JJ Maybank didn’t need handouts. As he told it, his independence was his most valuable asset. It’s what made him a pogue through and through. “Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish?”— An Epictetus quote JJ scribbled down, bored as ever in his freshman English class. His life motto condensed into twelve simple words, whether his newfound ‘freedom’ was out of his control or not. Either way, he played the cards he was dealt.

His friends— no, scratch that— his family, were his escape to comfort. A soft, pillowy landing from the nose dive that was his life. A foreign concept to him until he met John B, then Pope, then Kiara, then you. A refuge of safety, ironically enough, given the many times you all had looked death in the face.

Even though the pogues had already started wearing matching friendship bracelets that Kiara made by the time you came along, it was a smooth transition when you were welcomed into the group with open arms. By some more than others at first, given your kook status. But just as they’d embraced Kie, your initiation into the group was no different.

While it took time for JJ in particular to come around, his reservations were understandable. At first, you gave him his space and he gave you yours. Always letting him set the tone and lead the way.

As time went on, JJ soon decided he wouldn’t mind having you around him all the time, there was no going back. JJ loved to the point of no return, and it was incomparable to anything— or how anyone else could ever make you feel.

At times, he felt like that was all he had to offer. Nothing but fierce loyalty and protection over the ones he loves most. But you. To JJ, you were the fine line between hideaway and heaven itself. Even if he thought he may not end up there, he was sure that it would be you he’d meet at heaven’s gates.

Amongst any conflict or tension within the group, you always provided a safe haven for him to retreat to, though he had difficulty admitting it. In a way you had a solution for everything. Keeping tensions low and spirits high in the process. You were the original peacemaker of the group, before his precious gun came along.

Right now, it was almost all he could think about while he sat there, beer in hand, listening to John B and Sarah argue in the distance. How he wishes you were here, to ease his nerves and settle the anxiety simmering in his chest.

JJ hated this. He hated that nobody seemed to get along anymore. With all that was going on with the others, he wouldn’t even think to mention his problems. The looming eviction notice on his house, one of few things he had left on this island. While everyone’s lives continued to progress, JJ’s was at a standstill. No job, no parents, and now his friend group was falling apart at the seams. And with everyone else occupied these days, he was alone.

JJ, selfless as usual, would hate to bother you, no matter how badly he wanted to. He knew you’d have some inspirational shit to say to him. Though he’d poked fun at it sometimes, he’d never needed anything more right now.

The sound of footsteps came before JJ saw them, watching Sarah storm off and away from John B as he stood there, tense and silent.

JJ could be hot headed at times, that was no secret. He could understand his friends' quarrels to an extent. But he couldn’t look past the fact that you all were supposed to be sticking together, especially right now. When he said that nothing good could happen once you all returned to Kildare, he knew he was right. Call it a gut feeling.

-

Naturally, Sarah told you everything. Confidant, mom-friend, advisor— all titles bestowed upon you by your close group of friends over the years. You’d always tried to be as neutral as possible in times of conflict. Though in matters of the heart it was nearly impossible.

Days after her fight with John B, she found herself laying on your bed, venting all of her bottled up frustrations about him and the state of their relationship.

“I’m a mess, Y/n. I feel like such a mess.”

You looked at her sympathetically, knowing there wasn’t much you could do. Just listen, just be there in her time of need.

“So, I took my bag from the Chateau and I left. Kie’s parents told me I couldn’t stay, then I went to JJ’s and he wasn’t home. He’s working at Guffy’s again last I heard.”

You briefly glanced up at the mention of JJ’s name— and it didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah. Instead of divulging about it, she continued her rant.

“Then I was just wandering around, because it’s not like I had anything better to do. And who sees me drinking at Tiki Bar? Topper.”

“Topper?”

“Topper.”

You internally cringed at the mention of the Thornton boy. He was always nice when you saw him, nothing bad nor good to say about him. But you knew deep down he was Sarah’s achilles heel. He reminded her of everything she once had, the person she once was. Lately, you couldn’t help but crave some normalcy too.

“So.. what happened?”

She sighs heavily, dropping her hand across her eyes. “We went to Mase.”

“Alone?”

“We went with some people from KDC. The old crew, Kelce, Phoebe…”

“Is that it?”

“We made out.”

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut in fear of your reaction, knowing it’d probably show on your face before anything.

“Oh.” You swallowed back any judgment you might’ve had, compartmentalizing your love for John B and choosing to hear Sarah out. “And how do you feel about it?”

“Awful. I mean Topper has been so good to me lately with everything going on, he’s always there to pick up the pieces and I just feel bad. It was a mistake.”

“It can’t happen again, y’know. Not if you want to work it out with John B.”

“I do, I wanna work it out with him.” She urged. “And then the next morning we had breakfast. Kie came into the restaurant and saw us together and I think she got the wrong message. She said she’s staying out of it but I can tell what she’s thinking.” Sarah takes a deep inhale, and a deep exhale to follow. “What do I do, Y/n?”

It still baffles you at times that you’ve become the voice of reason. You hope Sarah doesn’t notice that you feel uneasy about the whole thing. “Just… be honest. Don’t let John B find out from anyone other than you. He’s gonna be upset but he has a right to be.”

The blonde sits up, crawls over to you and envelopes you into her arms. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

-

Sun reflected brightly off the boats docked at the marina, the two smoothie cups in your hand sweating from the sweltering heat. Your family's boat was kept here at Guffy’s; particularly when your parents weren’t in town to cruise around the island and daydrink with their kook friends.

At least you had an alibi, just in case you happened to run into JJ. The two medium strawberry banana smoothies you carried might need some explanation, though.

Ever since you all had made it back to the island, JJ had been hard to track down. He was rarely in one place for too long. So where else better to catch him than at work?

“Y/n? How are you doing today?” Billy questions from a distance away, putting on his friendliest smile for the daughter of his best clients.

“Can’t complain. Happy to be back.”

“And it’s good to have you back. Everything alright with the boat?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine, I just realized I left behind my favorite sunglasses.” You explained, hoping your excuse sounded authentic enough.

“Alright. You take care, now.”

“Actually… I was wondering is JJ around?”

“Maybank? He was here a few days ago.”

“Hm, I could’ve sworn he was working today.”

Billy sighs, eyebrows furrowing. “Listen, Ms. Y/l/n, I know you want to advocate for your boyfriend and all but JJ can’t work here.”

Confusion spread through your features this time as you genuinely had no idea what the man was getting at. You chose to not correct him when he’d mistaken you for JJ’s girlfriend.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid. I know he wants the job back but Guffy put a pin in it. I’m sorry. Really not much I can do.”

You forced a polite smile on your face as the dots connected, remembering the melting smoothie you held in your left hand while your half-finished one remained in your right. The two of you exchanged brief goodbyes before you quickly left the marina.

If JJ really hadn’t been working at Guffy’s again, where the hell was he? His act of disappearing was unmatched, but so was your skill of guessing.

If a game of hide-n-seek is what he wanted, a game of hide-n-seek is what he will get.

-

Grass brushed against your ankles as you approached JJ’s home, your steps careful as you looked around for him.

Going to JJ’s home was forbidden. When Luke was around, that is. He was a phantom— an ugly, dark presence looming over the quaint home that would otherwise feel serene. The chirping birds in the trees couldn’t tell the difference.

You haven't been here many times. The times you had been here weren’t anything you nor JJ wanted to remember. The feeling of uncertainty creeped into your mind from your past visits. You never knew what to expect.

To your left, there was a beautiful, never-ending view of the water past the grass of the Maybank’s yard. You hadn’t noticed that before. This spot had probably seen some beautiful sunsets. In a moment of imagination, you almost pictured sitting there with JJ on the plush green, hand in hand, watching the warm hues of the sky melt into a dark night.

The caution tape wrapping around the wood of the house caught your interest as you made your way onto the porch, also noticing the eviction letter left on the door, moving closer for a better look.

“Y/n?”

JJ called out, appearing from around the corner of his home, startling you out of concentration as you re-read the notice again and again.

As if you didn’t come over to finally see him in the first place. Though you couldn’t speak— for once unsure of what to say. ‘Sorry you’re getting evicted?’, it just didn’t sound right. Then again it might’ve been better than standing frozen and staring at him, silently, like you were doing.

“What are you doing here?”

“I- um…. I brought you a smoothie.”

You held out the cup, approaching him and handing it to him. He stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows furrowed. His lips eventually pursed into a smile as a way to say thank you. This wasn’t the relaxed JJ you were accustomed to; nonetheless he was still the JJ you loved.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. The smoothie.”

“You came all the way out here from your mansion on Figure 8 to bring me a smoothie?”

“What?” You scoffed, his tone dictating where the conversation was headed. Most likely nowhere.

“Go back to reading by your pool or something. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I haven’t heard from you in days, JJ. I’m just checking up on you.”

“So what? You touring around the Cut now? Delivering smoothies to lost pogues? Is Heyward’s your next stop?”

He resumed tinkering with his bike, and from the looks of it he was working rather aggressively— desperate to distract himself from the conversation at hand.

“I miss my best friend. Am I not allowed to miss you anymore? I mean it’s not like we were stranded on an island together… not knowing whether we would live or die!”

“Well, we’re not exactly a big happy family right now. You should know that.”

“Yeah. John B and Sarah are on some kind of break. But that doesn’t mean I can’t see you, that doesn’t have anything to do with us. I thought we were past the whole picking sides thing.”

“I’ve been busy.” JJ shrugs.

“Busy working? At the job you lied about having?”

His eyes snapped to yours immediately. Your heart clenched as soon as the words left your mouth, you didn’t mean to go too far. But at least you had his attention.

“What, are you stalking me now? Or did you hire a P.I. to figure that out?”

“Hilarious, JJ. I was at the marina earlier to grab something off my boat. Actually hoping I would run into you but, whatever.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

A few moments of awkward silence lingered between the two of you, as you kicked a pebble around with your foot.

“I know you don’t owe me anything… but you could’ve just told me.”

He paused his movements, thinking about how he was going to respond.

“Tell you what? That I prefer mixed berry over strawberry banana?” He jested, smiling to himself.

“I’m not talking about the smoothie, idiot.”

His eyes drifted over to his home, knowing exactly what you were thinking, just afraid to acknowledge it.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Y/n.”

“And I know that. I just wanna help you, however you’ll let me.”

“Well, you can help me by not helping me. I’ll figure it out. Always do.”

“All I’m saying is you don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here.”

At that, he dropped his tools, running tense hands through his hair. “But you aren’t here! You don’t have to live like this and you should be glad that you don’t!”

He raised his voice at you, frustrated. JJ was never good at putting his feelings into words, especially when it came to actually expressing them.

He didn’t know how he could tell you about everything. The worst day he’s ever had, the lowest he’s ever been. He couldn’t see a way in which he could tell you all of it and carry on the same. You were always a constant in his life. He needed it to stay that way, by any means necessary.

“That doesn’t make sense, JJ. What’s the point of having anything nice if I can’t share it with the people I love?”

The both of you were taken aback at what your explanation implied. In actuality, it took all of your power not to say those three words to him outright. But you couldn’t, not like this.

“You don’t have to pretend to care that much. I’m sure you can find another community service project to focus on.”

“Community service?” You chuckled emptily, baffled at his ridiculousness, though deep down you knew this was how he dealt with things. He simply didn’t know anything other than defensiveness. “That’s what you think this is?”

JJ closed his eyes in exasperation, wishing this conversation away. He could hear it in your voice, your feelings were hurt. Maybe not as bad as when your 8th grade crush asked someone else to the Valentine’s dance— but even a little was too much.

“If you’re gonna reduce our decade of friendship to me doing charity work, I guess there’s no changing your mind. I’m just wasting my breath.”

The words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize instantly, but now he wasn’t sure if his apologies were something you’d wanna hear at the moment. He wasn’t sure if you’d believe him.

For all the disingenuous apologies he’d accepted over the years, he’d hate to put you on the receiving end of one. Even if his heart truly was in the right place, JJ couldn’t muster up the courage to show it.

“You don’t have to antagonize me. Because everything you’re blaming me for, it isn’t my fault. Just like this isn’t your fault either.” You gestured to the eviction notice at his door.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “You’re right.”

“Say what you want about me, but I just wanna know that you’re okay. And if it’s an apology you’re looking for, you’re not gonna get it. I’ll never apologize for that.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. All he could do was try to understand.

Realizing he had no further comments, you turned your back to leave.

“Will I see you at the Chateau tomorrow?” You asked over your shoulder, hope remaining in your voice despite the uneasiness that remained between you two.

“Don’t count on it.”

“Alright, well… bye.”

JJ waves, before muttering a monotone ‘thanks for the smoothie’ as he watches you go.

-

Since returning to the island, it was an unspoken thing that you all were to meet up at the Chateau at some point. And with all the new developments in your lives lately, these meetings were much needed.

Pope handed you a beer as he came into John B’s living room, opening one of his own as he sat down beside you.

John B and Sarah seemed to be laying low, but it was clear they were back together or had come to some sort of resolution.

Kiara was going on about how much shit her parents had been giving her lately. They’d been hovering— watching over their daughter’s every move from the moment she set foot on the island again.

Pope told the group about how Cleo had won over Heywar in record time, much faster than John B or JJ. Pope’s parents simply wanted the best for him, and knew that the danger and mischief his friends came with couldn’t be productive.

“We’ve been best friends for what…? 13 years?” John B recalls. “And your dad can hardly stand the sight of me but Cleo won him over in a few minutes? How?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not at all.” John B holds his hands up in surrender to Cleo, Pope smirking beside her as he witnesses the interaction. “Just confused.”

“I have many superpowers, John.”

“Apparently! Winning over Heyward is like, unheard of in this group. At least for JJ and me.” John B explains, sipping his beer.

“Speaking of, where’s he at?”

At the shift in conversation, you can feel several pairs of eyes fall upon you. All you can do is act as normal as possible, tipping off any of your friends always ends badly in the case of keeping a secret. Until the cat’s out of the bag, your friends will make it their personal mission to reveal whatever it is you’re hiding.

You raised your eyebrows, pretending to only catch onto their stares moments later. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“No reason. It’s not like you guys are secretly together or anything.” Pope mutters under his breath, catching a glare from you at his false claim.

“We’re not. I wouldn’t know where he is.”

John B hisses, pretending to shiver. “Is it a little chilly in here? Or is that just Y/n’s cold shoulder?”

You roll your eyes, further proving his point until Sarah chimes in, pondering if she should speak up about what she knows.

“I actually stopped by JJ’s the other day. He.. wasn’t home.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t he go fishing? Probably not back yet.” John B remembers.

“I don’t think he’ll be going home anytime soon.”

At this your eyes meet Sarah’s hazel ones, full of hesitation. You shoot her a look of ‘whatever you’re about to say, don’t’, and you hope she is wise enough to pick up on it.

“Why is that?” Kiara questions, confused.

“He got evicted.” Sarah blurts, regret spreading through her expression as she sees you react; you don’t react. And that slightly terrifies her.

“Really?” Pope asks in disbelief, though not too surprised. More so disappointed that his best friend had to endure this, silently at that.

“Yeah. When was the last time anyone’s heard from him?”

The group silently recollects for a few moments, Kie pulls out her phone to review her latest texts with the man in question.

Instead, you’re wondering how the hell Sarah even knew about this to begin with. How long could she know about this and just stay silent? Forget not telling the group, how long could she keep this from you? How could she not help her friend who was clearly in need of support?

“How long have you known?”

Sarah appears confused, wondering where your line of questioning is coming from.

“I- uh. After John B and I fought I went there, remember Y/n? I was hoping I could stay but he wasn’t home. That’s when I saw the eviction notice.”

“And you waited, I don’t know, a week to bring that up?”

“Y/n, it’s not like I intentionally kept this from you, okay? We know how protective you are over JJ.”

Her words strike a cord within you, already on edge regarding JJ Maybank because of your argument with him the day prior. It was still a sore subject, even more so made by having no one to confide in about it.

“It’s not about that, Sarah. You didn’t even have to tell anyone at all but you didn’t think to maybe find out if he’s okay? At the very least?”

“I was a bit homeless at the time, Y/n, sorry about that.”

“Oh, right. You were too busy hooking up with Topper to care about the well-being of our best friend? Good to know the bare minimum is impossible for you.”

Sarah scoffs, John B shakes his head in exasperation. Kiara stays silent mostly, being no stranger to your and Sarah’s sister-like fights. She couldn’t even disagree with you, though with her parents keeping her on lockdown it was hard to do anything about it. She wasn’t in a place to have an opinion.

Pope and Cleo shared looks, communicating wordlessly as they had grown to do. Being away at Heyward’s kept them out of the loop quite a bit.

“JJ will figure it out, Y/n. Relax.” John B reassured. Though he was defending his girlfriend, now that they were in a ‘good place’ again, you felt anything but reassured at his carelessness around the subject. You’d think of all of you, John B would understand the most.

“Relax? Why should I relax if JJ is in trouble? If anything, you’re too relaxed!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but you don’t have to take it out on Sarah, this isn’t even her fault! Not all of us want to fight your battles.”

“If you had any sense left you’d realize this isn’t about me. This is about our friend, who I thought we all cared about. At least enough to share this kind of news. We’re talking about his well-being here, I mean he’s losing the house he grew up in and nobody seems to care about that?”

“If he wanted us to know, he’d tell us.”

“Like he’s ever going to do that! You know better than anyway that he won’t!”

“It’s not my problem.”

“Mhm. It’s a shame JJ’s busy solving all of yours.”

“Y/n, please. Can we just have a chill night?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his ‘best friend since the third grade?’ Because you don’t fucking act like it.” You huffed, standing up to get rid of your beer can. At this point you were rambling to yourself, more than okay with the group hearing what you really thought about them and their carelessness for the situation.

“Indeed. Which is why I don’t need to force him to tell me shit, okay?”

“Why are you such an asshole, John B?”

“Y/n, I just found my dad. So, excuse me if JJ’s living situation isn’t at the forefront of my mind.”

“I never said it had to be, but you’re acting like you don’t even care!”

“I do care! We all do!” John B shouts. “And maybe if you’d let up on him he’d actually come to you about this stuff!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, maybe JJ would give you the love you so desperately crave if you weren’t fucking suffocating him.”

“John B!” Kiara warns.

Sarah held her face in her hands, knowing John B had crossed the line. Maybe he had one too many beers in his system. Either way, hell was about to break loose. And when it came to JJ, hell hath no fury like you did.

Your head felt like it was about to explode. How could your friends seem to be so comfortable with this? The same friends that claimed to leave no pogue behind, to never turn their back on one of their own.

If that was true, then what was this? From the looks of it, nobody even pretended to give a damn.

“You’re fucking terrible, John B. This isn’t even about me at all! You just can’t stop deflecting from what a shitty friend you are. I mean, JJ would die for literally every last one of you guys. And he almost did! On multiple occasions! But instead you’re gonna neglect the one person who's seen you through all your bullshit and as soon as it’s over you’re gonna pretend like nothing happened? Like the Earth is back on its axis? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, John B. That’s just not- that’s not something you do to someone you love.”

There wasn’t a need to announce your departure, as it was so quiet inside that you could hear your own breathing.

As hard as it was to fight with John B like that, you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted off your chest. Your spirit was lighter. It was therapeutic, really. So therapeutic you felt peaceful enough to go home and take the longest nap ever recorded, maybe in John B’s own hammock just to prove a point.

Entranced in your own thoughts, you didn’t even register JJ resting in the hammock himself, hands intertwined behind his head. Not asleep, but wondering what your next words will be. The walls of the Chateau were thin enough, echoes of your voices amplified by the open windows.

He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t notice his presence or if you were flat out ignoring him, walking past like he was invisible. Testing the waters, he called out from behind you.

“I never really thanked you for the smoothie.”

You froze in your tracks, face heating up and muscles tensing at the thought of the argument he probably just heard and decided not to barge in on.

“It’s alright. Wasn’t looking for praise.”

JJ met you halfway, taking note of your tired eyes and your feet dragging against the grass.

“So, what? You’re picking fights for me now?”

“You heard?”

“I think Ward Cameron heard. All the way from Guadalupe.”

“Stop it.” You warned, cracking a smile for a split second. JJ was good at that. Making you smile no matter the circumstances. “I stand up against injustice. That’s all.”

“Then are you still mad at me?”

“About what?”

“Yesterday. The whole… note on door situation.”

“Could never be mad at you, JJ. Especially not about that.”

He softly smiles, one that you return. It’s been a long time since you’d shared a small moment like this. Too long.

He gestures for you to come closer and slide into his arms as he’d held them out for you, just like you belong there.

“I am sorry, though.” JJ mumbles the words softly, almost into the crook of your neck as if he was speaking to you and you only. “I know you’re just trying to stick around for me.”

“Yeah. Just trying to be wherever you are.”

“You don’t have to fight for me, y’know.” I’m already here. Though you may not have caught on instantly, nothing he’s ever said has made as much sense.

“Sorry, J. Sometimes I just feel like we don’t deserve you. Like I don’t deserve you.” You admitted sheepishly.

JJ scoffs, and you’re not sure why. He’s often sarcastic, but it’s hard to tell what he’s really thinking in these situations.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/n?”

Your eyes meet his, hesitation behind them.

“You’re the one who doesn’t deserve me? Is that a joke?”

You looked at him as if it were obvious, like the line had already been drawn in the sand. This fact had already been decided; there was no going back, not now, and not ever.

“I know I’m not the smartest person, okay, but you’re making no sense.”

“Come again?” You asked, equally as confused as he was. It was incredulous for anyone to believe JJ of all people wasn’t worth it— as if he wasn’t worth someone who would go to the ends of the Earth for him, someone who would defend him six ways to Sunday. There was no one in your life more deserving of such a thing.

“Listen, Y/n...”

“No! You listen. Nobody should treat you like that. Especially our friends! As if their problems are bigger than yours or something. It’s just fucked up for any one of them to act like they don’t care because I know deep down, they do. They care just like I do but they just suck at showing it. Mostly John B. He sucks the most. And I’m not exempt either, I mean I should’ve checked on you sooner-”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda.” JJ interrupted, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, it’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

“I know that. I just want to love you. Because I really do. I really love you, JJ. Like bad. So bad that it’s probably sad at this point but I really don’t care anymore! Not about what John B has to say, not about anything, because I’ll never regret it. I’ll never wish that I didn’t love you.”

That stupid weight again, feeling as if it’s taking off like a rocketship and leaving your conscience for good. It makes you want to scream the words from the rooftops. Over and over and over again.

Confessing feels good, but kissing JJ feels damn euphoric. His lips are on yours before you can even register what’s happening, too busy being self-aware to realize the way his eyes turned glossy, or the way he’s gently got one hand on your waist and one hand caressing your cheek.

“He’s got it all wrong. I love you, too.” JJ confesses after pulling away from you, briefly taking his eyes off yours to glance at the Chateau. His head shakes as he says it, that starry glint in his eyes so undeniably present. “So bad.”

He earns a giggle out of you as he mocked your words to him just a few moments ago. But now, things were changing. He couldn’t stand before you and pretend he didn’t feel the way he did. Not anymore, not ever again.

Not after you’d shown your love for him so confidently to everybody, time and time again. JJ Maybank wasn’t sure about many things in life, but you weren’t one of them. This was surely the best decision he’d made in years.

“Come over.” You whine between kisses, breaking him out of his trance. If you let him, he’d kiss you forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

JJ raises his eyebrows, smirking.

“For dinner. We’re having sloppy joes.”

JJ, unresisting temptation, leans in again and moans against your lips dramatically. “What about dessert?”

You give his hair a tug and kiss the smirk off his face, whispering to him a secret.

“And maybe dessert.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + jj maybank taglist: @destourtereaux

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi😼

so like y’know how bi han is like a rlly big meanie (i love him (๑╹ω╹๑ ) ) soooo can i pls request a bi han hurt/no comfort fic

like imagine the IMMENSE guilt he feels after something bad happens to reader like i live for that.

but please don’t feel obligated to do this request if u r not comfy!! thank u so much i love ur writing sm^^

Bi-Han is a big meanie for sure but then tell me why are his tiddies screaming at me to lay my head on them? Or squeeze them wait- also sorry if this is shit.

Part 2

Bi-Han had always made it apparent to accompany you on missions, regardless of it’s scale and his full confidence in your abilities to keeping yourself safe, seeing as he took it upon himself to train you in the most efficient methods he knew. However there was this constant need that ate away at the back of this mind, telling him that he needed to stay nearby in the instance where you would have him to fall back on to make up for your shortcomings in battle. Bi-Han had promised you this and you knew that he’d always honoured his word, especially more so with you and yet he had felt that in that very moment he had failed you within that regard as he sat himself down by your bedside.

His hand immediately finding your own, holding onto it as though you were going to slip through his grasp. He was fearful that no matter how hard he tried in keeping you close and relatively unharmed, you would inevitably slip through his grasp regardless of his efforts. Bi-Han feared that he was being shown how unfit he was to being your protector by fate itself. Bi-Han was stood outside at the time, awaiting patiently for your return to Lin Kuei with news of a successful mission upon your lips and a sparkle in your eyes, but something told him that it wasn’t going to be a joyous reunion and instead a somber one, and yet he pushed it aside for he had waited long enough for you to come home to suddenly become speculative of your condition.

‘I should’ve been there.’ Bi-Han said to no one in particular. ‘Had I knew beforehand of how bad things had gotten, I could’ve been there to prevent you from ending up in the medbay, where I await for you to awake.’ He adds on, feeling immense guilt, immense shame towards himself for your current predicament, as though he was personally to blame for you fighting for your life.

‘How were you meant to know brother?’ Kuai Liang had said from the doorway, unable to see such heartbreak upon Bi-Han’s face. Many had said that his brothers’ heart was encased in ice but Kuai Liang was lucky enough to say that wasn’t true when you came into his life, you had all but melted the ice that had once entrapped Bi-Han’s heart and nurtured it to embrace the warmth, and for that Kuai Liang was eternally grateful to you for being there for his brother when he couldn’t. ‘How were you meant to know this would happen and even if you did, how would you have been able to prevent it from happing.’ Kuai Liang then gestured to your heavily injured state.

Your wounds had mainly consisted of several lacerations, stab wounds and many other serious afflictions that when the medics had seen to you, they called it a miracle that you were still somehow alive. ‘The gods have their eye on this one, Grandmaster.’ One of the had told Bi-Han, who had been watching over the entire procedure with a watchful eye. ‘Had they been brought to us a fraction of a second later,’ they paused briefly as though to let the severity of the situation sink in, ‘we wouldn’t have been able to save them. We were extremely lucky that fate was on our side this day.’ Bi-Han had held his tongue upon hearing that you had been so close to death, instead bringing himself to focus on the fact that you had been brought back to the Lin Kuei just in time; For he wouldn’t know what he would do had you been just that fraction of a second late.

‘I could’ve saved them Kuai Liang!’ Bi-Han snapped, glaring at his brother and holding his gaze before looking back towards you where his eyes became warm. ‘I could’ve saved them.’ He said for a second time but it came out a lot more sombre, mournful even as he squeezed your hand, raising it raised to his masked lips before resting his forehead against it, his eyes clamped shut as he prayed that he would awake from this seemingly never ending nightmare, hoping to seeing you free of injuries and accompanied with a face full of life.

‘Get some sleep brother, they’ll want you at full health for when they awake.’ Kuai Liang said almost pleadingly but he knew Bi-Han was way beyond reasoning with now that the one person who could talk him out of his self destructive tendencies was laid out on the bed before him, unable to speak sense into him and to go to bed.

‘No. I must stay here, stay with them until they awake.’ Bi-Han stared firmly, keeping his emotions clearly concealed under a stone cold demeanour. ‘I must do better. I almost lost them today and I must.do.better. No.’ Bi-Han clenched the fist that rested in his lap, blunt nails digging into his palm so that he may feel something, anything instead of the numbing sensation that had already begun to spread throughout his chest, ‘I need to do better. So until then, my eyes don’t deserve to rest while they’re consenting fighting for the chance to open theirs.’

[lynnlovesthestars]

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened. 

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory. 

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize. 

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place. 

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you” 

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up. 

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready” 

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no” 

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything” 

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch. 

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission. 

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other. 

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing. 

[woniverse-writes]

"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 3)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 2 ⟵ part 3 ⟶ part 4

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9.2k

warnings: swearing, suggestive at times, both Bada and reader are idiots practically already in love, reader is described as younger and small a lot, sometimes isn't very accurate to swf's actual plot, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

All teams had gone their separate ways to begin discussing which company they were going to aim for. The only two teams securing the company of their choosing were Wolf’Lo and Lady Bounce- meanwhile Bebe, TsubaKill, and 1 Million all go for JYP; and Jam Republic, Mannequeen, and Deep N Dap all go for Hybe. When Bebe had walked into the room to 1 Million in there as well, they knew it would be interesting- then even more so when TsubaKill entered. And even though none of them outwardly said so, all of Bebe was secretly glad they weren’t going up against Jam Republic.

Jam Republic on the other hand- wasn’t worried at all when they saw Deep N Dap enter the room. In fact- when Kirsten had reported the information back to the team as they were preparing, Emma and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk and snort at how easy it would be. 

So all teams began preparing their choreography to battle against each other. Everyone was working hard and staying focused, ensuring they put out their best work to secure the company of their choosing. Bada had stepped out briefly, leaving the rest of Bebe to start choreographing. when she came back, they had yet to start anything, only having collected ideas. It frustrated the leader beyond words, yet she still tried her best to express the dissatisfaction she was feeling to her teammates.

“You guys know I’m not the only person on this team, right?” the eldest member sighed passively with her eyes shut in frustration. The others all stood in silence, too ashamed to speak up. 

“Every time we go out there, everyone calls us “Bada and her students”- aren’t you tired of that?? I’m tired of it, so why aren’t you?” she started raising her voice. Bada looked around at her teammates and felt disappointed, but was also starting to feel exhausted.

“I’m not competing by myself here… let’s get started” she sighed and everyone fell into a clump behind her, ready to follow her instructions. They begin working and eventually develop a pretty good routine, except everyone is on edge and they all keep making little mistakes. 

The Bebe members take a break and Bada grabs her phone and her water, walking out the door to get some air. She can’t help but criticize herself, wishing she was able to lead her team better- lead them in a way where they felt confident enough to work on their own. But no, Bada is still learning, yet not giving herself a break. She almost feels pathetic when she opens her messages app and her and y/n’s texts are already pulled up. She sighed reading over the last few messages they were talking about, which happened to be from the night before after they had all picked their groups. Bada had been saying how she was kind of glad their teams weren’t directly against each other, and y/n replied with something along the lines of how she agreed- saying it would’ve broken her heart. Bada types out a quick ‘how’s it going?’, not expecting a response right away but still hoping for it anyway. The leader was starting to accept the fact that the younger dancer was becoming a safe space for her, and she had a feeling that said dancer felt the same.

In the meantime- Jam Republic is having a blast coming up with choreography, their teamwork is impeccable, and the ideas flow like water. After about three hours of non-stop motion they take a longer break. Y/n sprawls out on the floor and Audrey comes to lay on top of her, causing them both to laugh- until Emma also comes to lay on top of them, and suddenly Audrey was dying laughing and y/n was groaning about how it’s not fair for the smallest to be on the bottom. The older three members sat back and admired their playfulness- Latrice began recording the chaos and Kirsten started snapping pictures. After a few minutes of messing around, Emma rolled off the two and Audrey followed, leaving y/n dramatically breathing with her eyes closed and head tilted- pretending like she was dying. Ling made her way over to the youngest with her phone and water in hand, passing them off to her as she sat up.

“Thanks Ling Ling” the younger girl appreciated with her eyes still shut, but a sweet gentle smile on her face. y/n opened her phone as she took a sip of her water to see a message from Bada. It was sent a couple of minutes ago simply asking ‘how’s it going?’ wot which she quickly replied with ‘pretty good! We’re getting a lot done and it looks pretty good too����😋’ totally unaware of how tragic the Bebe practice is going.

Right as Bada is about to put down her phone and start the practice back up, she feels it buzz and looks down to see it light up with a new text notification. She immediately opens it to see y/n’s reply, and smiles, happy to know at least one of them is doing well. She typed out ‘that’s great! Wish I could say the same haha… but it’s okay- I feel more motivated now after hearing that your practice is going well🩵’ and pressed send before waiting a few seconds to see if she’d get a response right away- which she did.

‘Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that love :( I hope it gets better- just remember to keep drinking water and DON’T overwork yourself! It’s important to do your best but you also need to make sure you’re in your best state of mind as well’ was the text Bada had received and truth be told, it made her a little emotional. She hearted the message and began typing again. ‘Let’s get something to eat after the battles tomorrow, okay? On me’ 

Y/n felt her face heat up and a smile began to take over as she read the latest message from Bebe’s leader. She made sure to heart the message and respond quickly with an ‘of course!! That sounds great!’ before putting her phone down and getting back to practice.

Bada felt relieved at y/n’s acceptance, sending a heart emoji then turning her phone off to head back to practice- now with a much better attitude. Her change in mood seemed to bring up the team's morale as a whole, seeing as how every member was bringing their a-game now. They finished choreographing and ran their routine into the late hours of the night before deciding to turn in and get some rest for a few hours. They came back the next morning and rehearsed a bit more, but ultimately they felt confident and were ready to compete.

As all the teams filtered in, everyone was sharing their nerves and excitement among themselves. Jam Republic was up first to battle and their three youngest members were beyond excited to take the stage. They showed their choreo, and even though they were only given a short period of time to work on, they blew everyone away with how energetic and clean it was. Audrey and Y/n once again received immense praise for their facials and explosive stage presence. The performance ended and while the other members were trying to catch their breath and process how they did, the two youngest members were skipping back to their seats giggling over how fun it was and how they hoped to keep HYBE so they could do it again

After watching Mannequeen, y/n was excited about how good it was but felt a little nervous after seeing her leader's tense expression

"Hey, let's try not to worry too much, we already danced and did our best, and we did amazing! Let's just try to enjoy the other dances right now" the youngest member softly states after putting a gentle hand on her leader's shoulder, giving her a bright youthful smile.

"y/n since when did you get so mature? You don't seem fired up at all right now and it's kinda scaring me" Latrice commented from the other side, causing y/n’s smile to widen a little.

"won't you be upset if we get eliminated?" Kirsten asked seriously before the younger girl could respond to the initial question. 

"Of course, but I'm so tired I can't even think that far ahead right now" she joked. The members all rolled their eyes and laughed. after staying up all night to perfect their piece, they could barely even process it when the votes came in and Deep n Dap was kicked instead of Jam Republic. But to be completely honest, they weren’t surprised at all.

They move on to the JYP battle section, meaning it’s time for Bebe, 1 Million, and TsubaKill. 1 million goes first and of course, y/n is hyping up her new friends- especially Redy, which Bada is absolutely not happy about. She hates it, it makes her more nervous.

y/n is even more excited while watching Tsubakill, cheering again for the member she’s closest with- Rena, but also fangirling over their leader, Akanen. This again makes Bada even more nervous- to the point where she feels like she's gonna pass out. She hated feeling jealous but she also hated how badly she wanted to please the youngest dancer from Jam Republic- and that paired with her already crushing need to succeed was tearing her apart. 

"Bada looks really tense…" Latrice comments

"oh my god I feel like I'm gonna throw up- I'm so nervous" y/n replies with her hand on her chest. Kirsten puts an arm around her shoulder, the whole pink team now feeling anxious. Bebe goes and they do amazing. Y/n is cheering and screaming the whole time, over the moon excited to see how well the routine turned out. When they finished dancing and everyone was cheering all the members bowed and turned to the various teams. When Bada had turned to face Jam Republic, y/n was already standing up throwing her hands in the air.

“What were you even worried about?? That was fucking amazing!!” the young girl scremaed with a huge smile on her face, causing Bada to share the same expression before shaking her head and turning back around to await the results. Everyone votes and the results are announced, 1 Million will be moving to another section. 

After all the teams are adjusted, it’s announced that the two teams of each company will have an hour and a half to decide who gets to choreograph each song, then they will all take a four-hour filming break for lunch, but teams were allowed to begin collecting ideas if they wanted to. Bada had already discussed with her team that they would be taking their break to relax and decompress as long as they had gotten to stay in JYP. similarly, Jam Republic had also decided to take their break if they got to keep their original group. 

Bada came waltzing over to Jam Republic’s seating with a cool smile on her face, even though she was really trying to contain an accomplished grin. y/n hopped down and met the older girl at the bottom, her teammates trying their best not to be nosy, but failing miserably.

“So I’m thinking a quick shower and then we can go?” Bada had asked looking down at the shorter girl who just smiled and nodded at first, her cheeks a little flushed already.

“Mmhm! Sounds good to me!” y/n responded enthusiastically, even though her brain was still stuck on the thought of Bada showering- or rather them showering together. Bada held up her hand like she was waiting for y/n to shake it, which she did albeit with a confused look. 

“Alright- see you soon then princess!” Bada affirmed, giving a final playfully aggressive shake to y/n’s hand, as if they had just sealed an important business deal, causing the younger of the two to burst out into giggles. After Bada is back with her crew, y/n turns around to see the rest of Jam Republic eyeing her expectantly. 

“Soooo what exactly are you gonna be doing later, princess?” Kirsten interrogated with a teasing smile. y/n just laughed some more and her smile grew wider (if that was even possible).

“Nothing crazy, we’re just going to get lunch” she had explained, somewhat calm, not entirely believing herself when she described it as “nothing crazy”. They all nodded and hummed, pretending to believe her.

“Right… just lunch… nothing crazy!” Emma repeated sarcastically with a knowing smile.

“Just don’t come back with hickeys the makeup crew won’t be able to cover-” Ling teased quietly to which everyone shot her a wide-eyed look.

“what? The way that girl looks at her is definitely not television-appropriate seventy-five percent of the time!” she exclaims, trying to defend her comment, which causes everyone to chuckle and nod in agreement.

“She’s got you there y/n… you should definitely go somewhere public, so she doesn’t pounce on you.” Emma snorts out a laugh, finding herself to be the funniest person in the room. Audrey shoves her shoulder and scoffs.

“Leave her alone- this is exciting! Y/n isn’t as delusional as we all thought!” “No Audrey- she’s still delusional, her delusions are just reciprocated by someone even more delusional that’s just really good at hiding it.” All the members look over to see Lusher standing in front of them with a knowing smirk. All of their faces drop, now looking a little panicked. 

“It’s okay- we’ve been having pretty much the same conversations with Bada.” the Bebe sub-leader reassures them with a subtle laugh and smile. They all briefly relax before turning their full attention back to the girl in front of them.

“Wait- what do you mean you have the same conversations? About y/n???” Emma excitedly speaks up, leaning forward ready for the tea. Y/n also leans forward hands resting against Emma’s shoulders, with wide eyes and a tiny curious smile.

 “Well… yes… but I don’t think right now is the best time to explain.” Lusher draws out with a teasing smile, causing Emma and Y/n to groan, but the rest to shake their heads and laugh. 

“Anyways- I actually came over to see if the rest of you would want to get lunch with us, seeing as our precious teammates decided to ditch us for a date.” The standing girl finishes off her offer by crossing her arms and landing her eyes on y/n with another teasing look.

“That sounds great!” Audrey gushes, smiling happily at the invitation before looking over at Kirsten for confirmation. The older nods her head and smiles.

“We’d love to, thank you so much.” Kirsten nods again gratefully, and Lusher smiles before heading back to her team. After the short break, all teams head into their battle rooms to decide who is going to get to choreograph a chunk of each song. Everyone else seems to have figured it out quickly, besides Mannequeen and Jam Republic, who ended up taking the whole hour and a half they had been given. After it was decided that Mannequeen would take “Dope” and Jam Republic would take “Eve, Psych, and the Bluebird’s Wife” they were finally able to go on their break. The rest of Jam Republic decided to head out and meet team Bebe for lunch right away, while y/n texted Bada to let her know she was just finishing up the decision process and that she was going to change quickly before the meeting.

Y/n rushed back to her apartment and showered before drying her hair and doing her makeup. She had kept it light but still pretty, tying the look together with her signature gloss. Her outfit was simple- well- simple for her. She had on a pink tank top paired with a khaki skirt and layered a white jacket on top. She finished getting ready and shot Bada a quick text letting her know she was leaving. They decided to meet at a cafe that was in between their apartments and happened to be really close to the studio. Once y/n had arrived she walked in to see Bada already sitting at a table looking at her phone.

“Hey! Sorry I kept you waiting…” y/n spoke up shyly as she approached the table. To which Bada looked up and shook her head immediately, signaling it was no problem.

“You didn’t keep me waiting, I actually just got here a few minutes ago” the older shared to ease the younger girl’s mind. She ‘ahh’ed and took her seat across from Bada. They exchange small talk for a moment over what they’re going to order and begin conversing more comfortably after that. Their food and drinks arrive as they continue their conversations about how each other’s day has been going. Y/n is currently retelling how the decision process went down between them and Mannequeen, and even though she's disappointed in losing dope she laughs about it openly because Mannequeen was surprisingly sweet and respectful about it (or at least most of them).

"Wait- so you’re telling me they blocked your door??" Bada asked in disbelief after taking a bite of her food, trying not to laugh.

"YES" Y/n openly laughed at Bada not fully believing her and took a sip of her drink. They continued to laugh about it for a little bit before going back to talking about how team Bebe had been doing.

“I’m just glad we were able to pull it off… I was really stressed.” Bada tried to laugh about it so she didn’t seem too troubled in front of y/n, but the younger girl still frowned and reached across the table to take Bada’s hand on hers, rubbing the back of it gently before nodding at her to continue.

“I felt horrible especially in the beginning, because it really seemed like I was the only one putting in work… but then I felt even worse after thinking about how it’s my fault that my teammates don’t feel secure enough or confident enough to lead themselves… I felt so selfish. Like I wasn’t fit to continue leading them in that moment…” the older girl continued quietly, looking down at the table. She didn’t want y/n to pity her, but it just felt too easy to open up to the girl.

“You’re too hard on yourself.” she spoke up, looking at Bada with puppy eyes. The young girl could feel her heart shattering into pieces while listening to the leader describe her stress. She just wanted to lean over the table and wrap her in a giant hug, and coddle her until she had no more negative thoughts about herself. Bada sighed and hung her head for a second before looking back up at the girl across from her.

“I know…” she began with a sad smile.

“I just feel like I have to always put out the best work- especially here. There are so many amazing dancers and choreographers, so many teams with such strong presences… I just want that for Bebe. I want them all to be strong and recognizable because believe it or not, I hate that everyone only sees me when they think of my team…” Bada finishes off her rant with her head resting in her hand that isn’t still being held by y/n’s.

“Bada-” the other starts

“You do always put out your best work. everything you do is amazing- whether it’s as a dancer, a choreographer, and especially as a leader. Your girls look up to you a lot for a reason. They wouldn't care so much about your opinion if they didn’t think you were deserving of leading them.” Y/n finishes off strong and the look in her eyes assures Bada that she means every word. She looks back down and smiles again, feeling pressure starting to build in her eyes- there is no way Bada will let herself cry in front of y/n like this. 

“You did well. I’m really proud of you.” y/n smiled and nodded gently, squeezing Bada’s hand in reassurance and that caused a single tear to slip down the older girl’s cheek, sending the younger into a slight panic. 

“Ah- don’t cry!” Y/n stood up and ran over to Bada’s side of the booth, sitting down next to her as she began wiping her tears with her jacket sleeve. The younger continued to do so until Bada had stopped crying. Y/n looked into Bada’s eyes with a pout on her face as she tucked a piece of hair behind the older girl’s ear. Her hands were still resting on her cheeks, caressing the taller dancer’s face, even though the tears had stopped flowing a while ago. The two sat there in silence, just embracing the close proximity. Bada’s breathing was shallow, still recovering from crying, but now feeling nervous after realizing how close y/n was. The younger of the two glanced down at the other’s lips and stared for a few seconds before hearing her gasp quietly, causing her to look back up. Y/n backed away slightly, to Bada’s disappointment, but only to give herself room to pull one of her hands away and kiss her thumb, before placing her hand back on the older girl’s jaw and rubbing said thumb gently across her bottom lip. Bada was so shocked by her boldness, she felt her lips part slightly and her face heat up. Y/n just smiled lightly at her reaction, once again staring at her lips. She looks up to make eye contact on her own this time, kind of loving the power she has over the older girl at this moment.

“Are you feeling better now” she whispers gently and Bada just nods in a daze. Y/n hums and nods also, rubbing her cheek one more time before standing and heading back to her own seat. Bada snaps out of her daze, still feeling dizzy at the interaction. She clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink. The rest of lunch goes on without another serious incident, but y/n’s eyes are filled with what could only be explained as “pure love and adoration” for the remainder of their time together. The two end up heading back to the studio together, sharing the backseat of a cab. 

Bada really is shocked by how bold y/n has become with her- after they finish up their meal and pay for everything, their cab arrives. Bada opened the door for y/n, which she giggled about and joked that Bada was such a gentleman to her, causing the older to roll her eyes and smile before explaining how she simply was taking care of her princess.

“Her princess…” y/n couldn’t stop thinking about that as they drove back. Once the two had both gotten in the car, they started off pretty evenly spaced out with Bada on one side and y/n on the other. But after about two and a half minutes they were side by side, and eventually, y/n had her legs lying across Bada’s lap as they cuddled and looked at the pictures they had taken together on their phones. When they had arrived back at the studio, y/n swung her legs back over placing her feet onto the car floor, opening her own door this time. Bada had followed her coming out the way, making sure to close the door behind and thank the driver. The two walked right next to each other, shoulders bumping but neither of them being brave enough to reach out and hold the other’s hand. As they both reached the lobby, it was almost the end of their allotted break time.

“I had a really great time today… so thank you” y/n began with a shy smile and blush painting her face, as she looked up at the older girl. Bada shared a similar smile, also taking on the look of “love and adoration” that y/n’s been sporting for the last hour or so. 

“Eyy you don’t need to thank me…” she began just as shyly

“I also had a great time- even if I did cry a little-” Bada joked halfway through, causing y/n to giggle and bump her shoulder.

“But I seriously love talking to you… I’m hoping we can do this again soon.” it wasn’t a question, but the younger girl’s eyes were immediately lighting up and she was nodding her head.

“Of course! I’d love to!” y/n started enthusiastically, but then she took a deep breath and continued

“I really love talking to you too” she thought she was gonna cry if she said anything else, so the younger girl just finished off with a smile and sparkling eyes, not believing what was happening. Her heart was pounding and her face hurt from how much she had been smiling. Y/n thought her stomach was going to explode from how many butterflies she was feeling- it was like a real crush now… not some celebrity crush or feeling of admiration for someone older that one looks up to… these were real romantic feelings and y/n was surprisingly ready to deal with them. And even if she wasn’t, the way Bada was smiling at her would definitely change her mind.

_______________

Rehearsals have been exhausting, especially after having learned their opponents' choreography. For some teams, it was an easy adjustment, but for others… it was definitely a challenge. 

TsubaKill had thrown in a tough acrobatic skill that was tough for even some dancers with experience in that area. Tatter was struggling to stick her landing on the double front handspring, and it was definitely bringing down the team’s confidence. Bada tried her best to stay positive as their leader, but even the members could tell she was starting to get nervous.

They’re given a longer break and Bada takes a walk, not even realizing she ended up near Jam Republic’s practice space. The pink also seems to be on break and the Bebe leader stands outside debating whether or not to knock on their door.

“Y/n…” Latrice starts suspiciously. The younger girl hums while taking a sip of her water, looking over with wide eyes.

“I think someone’s looking for you.” she finishes off with a soft knowing smile, pointing in the direction of their doorway. The younger looks over and furrows her brows, immediately standing up to head over to Bada.

“Hey- what's up? Are you okay?” the youngest Jam member asks in a concerned voice, eyes expressing how genuinely worried she is. Bada’s expression isn’t doing much to help her feel at ease, as the older hesitates for a second before sighing and closing her eyes.

“I don’t know… this practice is going terribly.” She begins, laughing pitifully, trying not to cry. Y/n pouts and makes a noise expressing her sadness and understanding. She immediately wraps her arms around the taller girl's waist, securing her in a comforting hug. Bada huffs out a sad laugh and wraps her arms around the smaller girl's shoulder, resting her head atop of hers. They stay like that for a few minutes with y/n rubbing circles on the older girl’s back. The whole time Bada was wishing she could just stay there forever, thinking that she might even fall asleep if she let herself stay any longer. She let out a sigh and stood up straight, patting Y/n's head before reaching to hold the smaller girl’s face in both hands. Y/n still had her arms loosely around the taller girl and was forced to look up at her since Bada was holding her face softly between her hands. The younger girl’s eyes glittered as she smiled softly, tilting her head slightly to lean into one of the older’s palms, looking lovingly into her eyes. In that moment Bada felt herself let out an uncontrollable giggle.

“You really are a puppy…” she stated absentmindedly with a lovestruck smile, still staring into the younger’s sparkly eyes. y/n giggled girlishly and wrapped her arms tighter around Bada’s waist teasingly, causing the older girl to laugh and squish the smaller’s cheeks playfully between her large hands. Both were giggling and clinging to each other, and the rest of Jam Republic was either smiling endearingly at them or making fake gagging noises (Emma). Bada sighed and let go of y/n’s face, placing her hands on her shoulders instead. The smaller of the two finally let go of the other’s waist and stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I should probably let you get back to practice…” Bada pouted slightly, not really wanting to go back to her own practice.

“I mean, you don’t haaaave to…” the younger dragged out her sentence with a playful eye-roll, playing around still, also not wanting the older girl to leave. Bada huffed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Okay, well I definitely need to get back to practice.” she stated, trying not to sound too distraught by it. Y/n’s eyes softened and her face fell for a split second, almost unnoticeably, before a gentle smile took over her face.

“Just please don’t overwork yourself… or the girls. Take care of each other please, your health and mentality are most important…” the younger girl pleaded looking deeply into Bada’s eyes. She patted her head and ruffled her hair a little, causing her to whine slightly. Bada laughed again and nodded her head.

“I promise we’ll all take care of ourselves… but we’re still gonna work just as hard as before. At least until we get things right.” her face dropped a little and the somber expression was back.

“No. health first, Bada… you won’t be able to get anything right if you’re injured… so please take care of yourself.” and after seeing the pleading look in y/n’s eyes while she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, Bada really couldn’t find it in her to argue. So she let out a sigh and nodded. 

“Okay…” she nods again looking at the ground, feeling a bit emotional. Bada takes another deep breath and stands up straight, smiling again, causing y/n to smile again. 

“Alright, well i’m gonna get back to practice-” the older states, and right as y/n’s about to reply, Bada places a quick kiss atop her head, and then struts off back to her practice space, leaving the younger girl with her jaw dropped and eyes wide as ever. Once she’s taken quite a few steps and put some distance between them, Bada turns over her shoulder and throws y/n a wink paired with a teasing smile. The younger can’t help but huff out a laugh of absolute astonishment and disbelief. As Bada turns the corner and is out of y/n’s sight, the Jam Republic girl doesn’t even want to turn around to see her teammates' expressions, knowing damn well she’s gonna have to answer a lot of questions.

__________

The next day arrives and it’s time for everyone to present their pieces to the other crews, as well as record their practice videos to send in for the artists to view. While all of Jam Republic is in a good mood and extremely excited to show off their routine, their youngest can’t help but feel a little anxious. Not for herself, but for the team sitting next to them, and more specifically for their leader.

Bebe was one of the first to go and it started off well. They seemed pretty relaxed until it came time for Tatter’s front handspring. She didn’t stick the landing and it threw everyone off, but the team didn’t falter, continuing on as if it didn’t happen. Y/n was cheering the loudest, especially for Tatter, letting her know it was okay. But when the blonde didn’t land her font walkover as well, y/n’s screams increased in volume tenfold. 

“YOU’VE GOT THIS TATTER- LET’S GO GIRL” she’s screaming so hard that her chest hurts, and the small girl can feel tears starting to sting her eyes. At this point everyone else was cheering for the team as well, wanting to see them finish off strong. The second it was over, Bada was turning to Tatter and wrapping her in a tight hug. The younger member cried and cried, while her leader petted her hair and shushed her.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Bada whispered to the crying girl in her arms, who shook her head and backed away to wipe her tears. The leader pushed some hair out of her face, and pulled her back in for another hug, leading her and the rest of the team back to their seats. Everyone continued to cheer for them as loud as possible.

“You did well, it’s okay. It was just a mistake. As long as you’re not hurt, that's what matters right now.” the blonde sighs, finally calming down and she lays her head on the oldest member’s shoulder, closing her eyes for a few moments.

On the other side of them, Jam Republic is holding back their own tears, feeling immensely sorry for the team they’ve grown so close to. Except for y/n who is freely letting her tears fall, as she hides her face in her hands. Latrice rubs her back until she calms down and is able to sit back up without crying.

A couple more teams take their turns before it’s time for Jam Republic. It’s safe to say that when they do their routine and everyone goes fucking crazy. Their ability to pick up Mannequeen’s whacking section and execute it as well as they did, sent everyone into a frenzy. On top of that, their energy and expressions were beyond praise, so everyone was just screaming. 

Everyone is surprised to see that the team isn’t utilizing y/n more, or at least using her old choreography. The youngest member mostly shared the center with another member, yet was never the main focus. The only highlight she really has is after Audrey’s articulated arch, where she runs to lead the line for a brief second, her expressions and energy being what makes her stand out. The look in her eyes and the slight smirk make everyone go crazy over the visuals and stage presence.

“THAT’S MY GIRL” Bada is leaning over her teammates screaming the loudest anyone has heard her scream. Her teammates just give her the same side eye they always do whenever she starts openly fangirling over y/n. But they all have just learned to ignore it for the most part now. Jam Republic finishes their routine and are all breathing heavily as they bow and walk back to their seats. While everyone’s still clapping and the members are about to sit down, Bada discreetly lifts up her fist right when y/n is about to walk by. The younger just smirks, trying not to laugh at the older girl’s silly yet supportive action, and bumps her smaller fist against Bada’s. 

The rehearsal finishes and the following day is the pre-recording and live performance. All the teams are once again getting their makeup done, this time sharing a room with their members.

“I can’t believe we’ve been here so long already and this is only the first mission we get to do together” Latriece states while getting her eyeshadow done. The others hum and some nod.

“It feels like we’ve been here forever, but it’s actually only been a couple of months…” y/n replies as her stylist applies a gemstone to her under eye.

“Only? I feel like these have been the longest two months of my life.” Emma exaggerates in return, causing a few of the members to hum more aggressively than before. They finished up with getting their makeup done and in typical y/n fashion, the first thing she did was start taking mirror selfies. At first, she was taking them by herself, and then of course Audrey joined… then Ling joined, and soon after that it was all of Jam Republic scrunched together trying to fit in the frame of one mirror. After that, Latrice offered to take more elaborate pictures for her, knowing how the young girl loves to pose and post. Once all that is done, they have a few minutes before having to head backstage for the pre-filming. Y/n doesn’t even think twice before opening her messages app and sending Bada a few of the selfies she took, along with some of the full-body pics Latrice had taken for her.

Bada’s finishing up in hair and makeup when she feels her phone buzz. Already getting her hopes up at the familiar hum of her text notification, she can’t help but expect a message from a certain Jam Republic member. Sure enough- when she unlocks her phone, she’s met with a series of selfies and other photos of the youngest member, dressed in pink and white with glittery makeup. Bada doesn’t even feel herself smile, she’s so lost in a dream over the pretty girl on her phone. 

‘Absolutely stunning, Princess🩷’ she presses send without even thinking. Y/n hearted the message and sent the hand heart emoji right as Bada was about to be done with her hair. As soon as the stylists step away the Bebe leader is opening her camera and snapping her own mirror selfies, immediately sending her favorites to y/n.

‘Ugh how do you always look SO fucking good😩🩵’ was the response Bada got almost instantaneously from the younger girl, to which she giggled and covered her mouth with her fist trying to hide her smile. Hearing the soft sound Lusher looked over and sighed affectionately at her blushing teammate.

“Did y/n text you?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Bada looked over with wide eyes, a bit shocked forgetting that everyone else could still perceive her in the present moment.

“Oh- uhm…” the eldest tried to be cool and calm, attempting to avoid the conversation, but just as soon as her walls went up, they came right back down.

“yeah… she did” and she was giggling and smiling again, causing Lusher to burst out laughing at her leader’s openness. It was a relief to the younger girl to see Bada so relaxed and at peace, even though they still had to go out and compete in a few hours. Seeing one of her closest friends and now team leader act the way she did with and around y/n made her feel okay, knowing that there was someone to take care of her just like how she had been taking care of them.

___________

Before the pre-recordings start an announcement is played on the monitors. It’s a member or group of members from each company, declaring who they thought was the better team during their practice. Le Sserafim chose Jam Republic as the better team, meaning they got to choose whether they went first or second during the live show- they chose to go second after Mannequeen.

During the practice/filming period- everything started out well for Jam Republic. They were all laughing and having a blast watching the other crews. They all casually made fun of wolf’lo for their uhm… “hip-hop look”… and ended up delving into a slightly more serious conversation about how crazy it is that level of cultural appropriation is still going on in 2023- the durags were already too much... whoever was styling these girls needed to get FIRED. After Mannequeen had gone it was finally their turn.

The recording started off really well until all of a sudden Latrice was on the ground, unable to get up. Y/n was right next to her when it happened, watching her go down. She stopped dancing immediately to make sure the older girl was okay and to see if she could get up. After a few moments, the team realized Latrice wasn’t going to be able to get up on her own any time soon and she was rushed to the hospital. The members halted their filming and headed back to their hideout. The members are holding it together surprisingly well at first, mostly just in shock at the situation. Audrey is the first to start crying, and it hits everyone else like a truck. Y/n is by her side in seconds, cuddling and trying to soothe her. Ling is next to start tearing up and shortly after y/n even sees Emma shed a tear. The youngest is able to hold it together until she looks up to see her leader crying. That’s when y/n feels the tears start falling uncontrollably, as she tucks her head into Audrey’s shoulder and silently cries. 

“Is there an option we just forfeit?” Kirsten asks the staff, wiping her tears. Once Y/n hears this she picks up her head immediately and the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak and the poor girl seems terrified by the idea of giving up. The staff explains that if they were to forfeit it would immediately put them in last place, meaning they’d be up for elimination. This news caused them all to fall back into tears, completely lost on what to do. After what felt like half a day, Latrice came back with a boot on her leg. The other members immediately rushed to her side and helped her sit down.

“Basically I just have to ice it for a few hours and then I’m allowed to dance on it for the performance, but after that, I’m gonna have to rest for a while.” she had explained to them, as her team all watch over her with worried eyes. She then began talking to them about how Redlic was also in the hospital at the same time as her. The others were amused but y/n just rolled her eyes.

“Of course she was” the young girl mumbled, not at all surprised with the show’s resident drama queen. Latrice looked over and shook her with a laugh, then proceeded to joke about how she was starting to see Redlic as her soulmate instead of her rival, which ended up making y/n somewhat emotional again.

After a few hours of recovery, Jam Republic quickly shot their pre-recording of the routine and went back to get some touchups done on their makeup as the audience started pouring in. After about an hour and a half of anticipation, the live performance began. All the girls could hear the audience from backstage, and some even from their dressing rooms. It made them all even more hyped to perform. 

TsubaKill does their performance first and everyone is blown away by how aggressive yet clean they are with their movements. When it’s Bebe’s turn y/n can feel her nerves increase by two hundred percent. The girl was already nervous, but knowing that Tatter had been struggling intensely with a few points really made y/n’s heart hurt for the other team. But her nerves quickly dissipated as she watched the blond stick her double front handspring, in fact- she was up and screaming immediately. 

“LETS FUCKING GO TATTER” is the small girl’s immediate reaction. She’s standing on the couch in her crew’s waiting room, screaming with the rest of her team. y/n briefly calms down for a moment and brings herself to sit next to and cling to Emma, who pats her head and laughs.

“I feel like I’m gonna cry I’m so proud of her.” and the excitement only increases as the performance goes on. There’s one moment where they all point at someone in the crowd, and when it happens the camera pans to Bada, charismatically pointing and smirking, which has y/n’s jaw dropping to the floor and all of her members immediately looking her way to catch her reaction. No one says a word until y/n looks around to meet eyes with all of them. She holds up her hand and closes her eyes, pretending to cry.

“Enough.” is all she says yet it has her members bursting out in laughter. Minah is the next victim of Jam Republic’s inhumane screams of support, when she does her jerky laugh move, once again sending them all spiraling. Especially y/n and Audrey who are now standing on the couch again, clinging to each other for dear life. And then of course, y/n pretends to faint when Bada does her peek through the other members before the end half of the song. Emma smacks her on the side of the head, asking her politely (sarcastically) to pull herself together. Bebe finishes their routine and all the members are standing in the middle of their room cheering and clapping like maniacs.

Shortly after the JYP match, Mannequeen went first during the Hybe competition and for the first time, y/n is actually nervous for herself to compete. The other team had done really well and even adjusted accordingly to the choreography Jam Republic had given them. When it was time for the pink team themselves to finally perform, y/n took a deep breath and put on her game face- ready to go. The music started and she instantly felt herself become immersed in their doll-like theme. She and Ling had taken the center for the intro, already bringing the story to life. The audience loved them and so did the other crews. Bada really did try her best to focus on the dance as a whole and was able to when y/n wasn’t seen on the screen, but any other time her eyes were focused on the youngest member.

“I’m really surprised they didn’t utilize y/n more…” Minah shares with her group after the performance ends. To which Bada explained that the girl told her how she had wanted to help mostly behind the scenes for this one instead of taking the spotlight, as she’s not the only one on Jam Republic that can look good doing kpop choreo. They all ‘ahh’ed and nodded, adding yet another thing to the list of reasons they all admire y/n l/n. 

When it’s revealed that Jam Republic won y/n bursts into tears and collapses on the ground, but she immediately gets up and hugs Latrice and they’re just crying together. The rest of the teams compete and the day ends as a success for half and a learning experience for the others.

Not even getting a day to rest and recover, the first elimination occurs the next day. Everyone once again files into the fight zone, taking their seats and waiting for filming to start. The first two battles to be announced were SM and YG, resulting in 1 Million and LadyBounce securing their safety from elimination. Next was JYP- Bebe versus TsubaKill.

“There’s no way Bebe will be up for elimination…” y/n starts off although she feels her stomach turning. Her teammates hum and nod as they focus their eyes on the screen in front of them, awaiting the results. But they all gasp when the scores are revealed.

“I didn’t think it would be that bad…” Audrey whispers with sad eyes. All of the members slowly turn to catch TsubaKill’s reaction to being up for elimination. They were surprisingly calm, still smiling and nodding peacefully. Bada had spoken about how she was proud of her team for pulling through but got choked up at the end, wishing their opponent good luck in the final battle.

When it came down to Mannequeen versus Jam Republic everyone was just about ready to throw up because they were so nervous.

“I actually have no clue how this is going to go… I have such an awful feeling about this” y/n’s shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands. The screen reveals that even though Jam Republic had won the judges' votes, Mannequeen won the audience points, and the whole pink team tensed up. They all join hands and hold onto each other as they await the final score. When it came, their shoulder sagged and they all let out a heavy breath. Jam Republic wins by a hair.

As the final team score is announced, the host reveals the final ranking with Bebe in first and Jam Republic in fourth. TsubaKill and Wolf’Lo had the two lowest ranks, so now their teams were going up against each other for one final match to determine who was going home.

The first of what would be five battles began, crew versus crew. Y/n’s already fangirling over Tsubakill, especially Akanen

“She’s so mommy-“ “I need you to actually shut the fuck up” (yet another classic argument between Jam Republic’s designated Tom & Jerry duo, Y/n and Emma). Meanwhile, Bada is just as excited but is more in favor of Wolf’lo, really enjoying their classic hip-hop dance style. Tsubakill takes the first win and everyone flips, but the second battle between them has y/n heated.

“Why the fuck is she tripping her and getting all up in her space… that’s so juvenile” She was outraged when Baby Sleek won, always hating when dancers got too touchy with each other during battles, but especially when they were dancing at the same time and one of the dancers got too reckless- aka Baby Sleek.

The leaders battle next and Jam Republic is heavily rooting for Akanen, especially y/n.

“If Akanen doesn’t win, I’m leaving” the youngest member dramatically expressed with her arms crossed, tapping her food comedically, causing her members to laugh. 

“Oh so you’ve moved on from one team leader to the next already?” Emma teases and causes y/n’s jaw to drop and her eyebrows to furrow in defense. The duo battle was another hard-to-watch experience for her, as she felt that Wolf’Lo didn’t deserve the win for simply rolling around on the floor. Then the final group battle happened. Y/n absolutely loved TsubaKill’s performance, but it upset her to say that Wolf’Lo’s was slightly more put together.

When wolf’Lo takes the final win y/n’s head immediately hangs in defeat. She’s able to avoid crying until Rena starts speaking and they’re both instantly in tears. Once they’re told to leave the fight zone, y/n rushes down the seats and runs straight to Rena engulfing her in a huge hug. The two had become close ever since the class battle mission, and it hurt to see such a talented and kind-hearted friend go so soon. After they had all said their goodbyes and TsubaKill went back to their hideout for one final time to pack up their things, the rest continued to cry and try to pull themselves together. After about 45 minutes, each team took turns going up to say goodbye to the red team, truly not ready to let go of the newfound friends they all had made. TsubaKill turned off their sign and left, then the cameras stopped rolling for the day. 

Each crew was back in their own hideout now, just discussing the events of the last few days and how they could relax briefly since they all survived the first elimination. Jam Republic’s room was eerily quiet as the small team with such big hearts sat heartbroken still. Y/n didn’t look herself, eyes tired and face puffy, and oh how it made her members feel even more upset knowing their youngest member took every blow straight to the heart- yet she never let that truly impact her as a person, always taking on every new situation with a bright smile and open-mind.

“How’re you holdin' up mama?” Kirsten asked, gently rubbing the young girl’s shoulder. Her lip quivered and she started to tear up again before leaning forward and hiding her face in her hands.

“This is so much harder than I thought it was gonna be.” Y/n cries into her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Kirsten just continued to rub circles on her back until she calmed down. Once she finally did manage to stop crying, the younger girl sat up and ran a hand through her hair, suddenly seeming a tiny bit more alive than before. She looked around at all her members and stopped at Emma.

“Fuck this shit.” she declared confidently and the members couldn’t help but chuckle and shake their heads, forever impressed by how unpredictable the girl will always be. She throws her head back to rest against the back of the sofa in their room. A few moments of silence pass then there's a knock on their door. Ling, who is sitting closest to it, stands up and opens the door, revealing a slightly-somber-looking Bada Lee. once she realizes all eyes are on her, the tall girl’s eyes widen and she clears her throat. Before anyone can even say anything y/n is up and moving. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she whispers as she meets the older girl in the doorway. Bada stutters for a second before taking a breath.

“I just wanted to come check on you… I know you take these things pretty hard.” she had clarified with a sympathetic comforting smile, causing y/n to smile slightly as well.

“Well thank you… how are you holding up?” she asked in return with her signature puppy eyes. Bada tilted her head for a second, thinking about how she wanted to word her sentence. 

“I think I just need to keep moving. Of course I’m upset about it, but I feel for me personally I just have to keep working… there isn’t any time to rest-” she starts and sees Y/n take a deep breath, knowing the young girl is about to reprimand her for not taking care of herself.

“But-” she continues, holding up her hands in defense, causing the girl across from her to sigh and cross her arms expectantly.

“I actually want to take the time I have and enjoy it… maybe with someone?” Bada had finished her statement with a question, hinting that she very much wanted to spend her free time with the smaller girl in front of her. Y/n matched her cheesy smile and looked over her shoulder to see her teammates staring (per usual). Kirsten and Latrice looked at each other for a second, having a silent conversation, before looking back towards the two in the doorway and nodding with a thumbs up. Y/n looked back at the tall girl in front of her and smiled brightly.

“Are you free now?” she asked, and Bada held out her hand for y/n to take, which she did. The two already grinning like lovesick idiots.

“For you I am.”

note: sorry this part took so long!! i hope everyone enjoys it- next part is gonna be the pool party episode omg yay lol

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[cuubism]

I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

[genshin-side-piece]

Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 2)

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe. Follow up to Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)

There was no way to tell time in this place. Being miles under the surface meant no windows, which meant no real way to track the light. Wriothesley also didn’t seem that keen on clocks, or maybe, he wasn’t keen on them where you were concerned. It was a clever strategy, hiding something as essential as time from you.  Without it, you couldn’t gauge how long it had been since Wriothesley had left you. Nor could you know when he would be back. It might be minutes or it could be hours. You could only guess. What you were certain of was that the time you had been allowed was enough to at least feel marginally better. The hangover you’d suffered from thanks to the alcohol and the unnamed stuff had begun to ease. Though you still felt like you’d been struck by a water bus. Eventually, you found yourself capable of leaving the bed long enough to clean yourself up. It was a relief to finally rid yourself of the gritty taste in your mouth. It made you feel somewhat human again, even if it did nothing to change your circumstances. When you were satisfied, you retreated back to the bed, pulling the sheets and light comforter over you. There you stayed, hiding in the darkness. It lured you into the false belief that you were temporarily safe from the storm that was to come. Given your first encounter, you silently hoped that when he returned, Wriothesley would just leave you be. That he would pick on the fact that you cared as much for his rules as you did him and in turn, he would just go. It wasn’t like there was a rush to explain them anyway. You were a captive with no means of escape. From your point of view, he had all the time in the world to explain his expectations for you. His insistence on doing so first thing, when you weren’t even coherent, betrayed the cool facade that he had maintained since. He was excited. He was eager. No amount of sarcasm or dry humor would ever be able to hide that. 

Those emotions further betrayed him upon his eventual return.  Wriothesley tried to seem amicable, at least that’s what you thought. His true tone was muffled thanks to the blankets. You really didn’t care anyway. You only hoped he would get the message and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he ripped the blankets away from you, tearing away the illusion of safety you felt you had. “Still sleepy are we?” The wry tone in his voice did nothing to help. Nor did the tray of food he had brought with him. The sight of questionable sausage and what you thought was porridge made your stomach lurch. You tried to look at anything other than him or the tray; the walls, the ceiling, the door he had left open. Wait. Your eyes went back to it. The door, Wriothesley had left it open when he had come in. Either he was confident you wouldn’t try anything or he was testing you. It really didn’t matter. The proverbial door was open and you were prepared to take it.

You only gave the disgusting excuse for food one more glance before you threw it back in his face. Literally. Your hands came up in one swift motion, smacking the tray out from under him. You barely had time to register the way the light reflected off the porcelain bowl as it flew at Wriothesley before you made a break for it. Again with both hands, you gave him a hard shove, throwing him off just enough to squeak by and make a break for the open door. Around you, silverware clanged as it hit the floor. Glass and porcelain shattered leaving little cuts on your exposed skin, and a very distinctive grunt followed you as you desperately tried to get away. Wriothesley’s hand in your hair ended any hope of that coming true. You hadn’t even made it a handful of steps when the force of which he pulled you back ripped a scream out of you. One moment you were vertical. The next you were facing the ceiling, back pressed firmly into the lumpy mattress as Wriothesley snatched a hold of one of your wrists.  “Oh” He let out a dry laugh, that same dangerous glint returning to his eyes. “You want to fight do you? Well-” With his free hand he reached down, detaching the cuffs from his belt. “Let’s fight.” One look at them told you his intentions. With a garbled scream, you kicked at him again. This time though he was ready. Wriothesley maneuvered his hips between your flailing legs. The best you could do was smack him square in the ass with your calf. An action he seemed to enjoy, based on the smirk he gave you after you landed your first strike. “Give it to me.” Meaning your other hand. His tone was flat, expectant, and generally uninterested. To your horror, your escape attempt had done little to rile him up. Instead, he patiently held out one hand, while the other kept a grip on the wrist he had since locked in his handcuffs. “You’re already going to be punished for refusing your food. It’s only going to get worse for you if I have to reach under you and get that hand myself. Do yourself a favor and give it to me.” You still refused, vehemently shaking your head no. It was a foolish move on your part. You were all too aware of that. The smart decision would be to cooperate with him. To obey him this one time in the hope that he offered you some form of clemency. That wasn’t the decision you made though. Instead, you chose to refuse. You chose to fight. Two things you had been denied thanks to how he’d had you abducted. Two things you were all too prepared to give him in spades. All things considered, It was no less than he deserved. Wriothesley could only sigh at your refusal. He almost managed looking mournful for a moment, but it was short lived. The cocky smirk returned before he could finish his next statement. “You really want me to be the bad guy, don’t you?” Your response was to try to tuck your arm even further behind you, cementing your choice to disobey him rather than concede. “Foolish.” He clicked his tongue. “I suppose you’re really no different than the rest. Seems you’ll just have to learn this lesson the hard way.” There was only a brief shrug of his shoulders before Wriothesley finally followed through on one of his threats. All it took was one pull. 

You screamed again, the metal of the cuff around your one wrist digging into your flesh to an extreme degree as he drug your entire body off the bed. The pain that shot through your body was horrific. It felt like he was trying to rip your arm off from the force alone. Nevermind thin cuts and bruises left by the steel he had locked around your wrist. It was a foregone conclusion that he was going to get what he wanted. The force from the pull had wrenched what control you had away from you. Your body flailed in a tangle of limbs as you tried to catch yourself from falling face first onto the metal floor. He caught you, barely, but he made sure that you didn’t land into the pool of gray gunk that was congealing on the floor. Instead, you were wrenched up by your waist long enough for your other wrist to be captured in the steel of his cuffs. From there you were unceremoniously dumped onto a clean part of the floor and left to wait.

There was no quip that followed your escape attempt. No snide comment or even the faintest hint of judgment. Just a cold glare as he removed the longer chain from his outfit. The rattling bounced off the metal walls, causing you to flinch at the noise. While your headache had temporarily subsided, the piercing noise of metal echoing off of metal seemed to bring it roaring back. You whimpered, but only enough so he wouldn’t hear you over the jostling of his outfit. Thankfully he was kind enough to be quick about it, but only because removing the offending chain was easy work for him. The fact that he was punishing you to the point that you felt your ears would bleed was an inconsequential detail. You half expected him to say you deserved it. “I’ll only say this once.” He rotated the chain until he had an end in each hand. “Do as I ask. Don’t make me use force again.” Implying you wouldn’t like what would happen. Considering your present circumstances, you were fairly sure you wouldn’t. He’d already had you kidnapped and personally manhandled you without much provocation. To push him much further, at least at present, might result in a situation that was altogether unpleasant. “Hands” He gestured for you to lift your cuffed hands, which after a slight hesitation, you did. It wasn’t a leap to figure out his next move. One end of the chain found its way around the connecting link of the cuffs, while the other stayed firmly in his hand. “Up.” He moved his hand and you half expected another gesture, but instead he held it out to you, offering it as a means of assistance should you need it. An entirely gentlemanly gesture, from a brute of a man. You ignored it, awkwardly pushing yourself onto your wobbly legs. The effort to right yourself was a struggle. The failed escape attempt and subsequent fight after had drained what little energy you had woken up with away. Your legs felt no better than jelly. Standing on them or worse trying to walk on them would require a specific level of effort that you weren’t sure you possessed. The decision to not eat was a poor one. Even if the food was revolting, you probably should have seized the chance to get something in your aching stomach. At least then you could still the shaking that was quickly working its way across your entire body.

Wriothesley didn’t give you time to fret over it nor did he wait for you to fully steady yourself. The brief show of gentlemanly behavior was forgotten almost as quickly as it was offered. He yanked the chain hard, dragging you through the doorway and into the empty room beyond with little trouble or care. You stumbled, falling to your hands and knees against the rough metal floor, the sharp edges of the cold metal cutting into your exposed flesh even more. The sting from the metal biting your skin made you wince, not that Wriothesley noticed. He kept walking, pulling the chain tighter the further away he got. The silent demand from him was that you keep up; whether it was by walking or crawling. He didn’t seem to mind which. He only wanted you to follow until he ordered you to stop. Then he would move on to whatever humiliation he had planned next. Your cheeks burned at the very thought of it. How dare he. You had half a mind to repay his rough behavior with some of your own, but you weren’t nearly as strong as him. Given his size, you doubted you would be able to shift him. At most, you pulling on the chain or refusing to go any further would be a mild jerk against his hand. An inconvenience for him at worst. Hardly worth the energy or the struggle considering your current predicament. 

“Rule number one.” His voice drew you from your thoughts, pulling your attention back to him. He strode to the center of the room, bending down to loop the chain through a d-ring that was bolted to the floor. “You are the master of your own treatment here.” You stared up at him through the fringe of your lashes as he stood to his full height. “Call it irony” He shrugged. “But I don’t like the idea of punishing you. It took quite a bit of work on my part to bring you here. I even paid extra for the deluxe delivery.” Were you supposed to be impressed by that? It was laughable to consider that he expected you to fall all over yourself and thank him for taking such care with your abduction. Yet one look at him told you, that was exactly what he wanted, or rather he expected your compliance as a result of his supposed care of you. A trade. A bargain. An insult. In your mind, if he had the nerve to kidnap you, then the very least he could do was see to your safety during said act. Anything afterwards, like now, was a different transaction. Something you weren’t entirely interested in participating in unless it involved your unconditional release.  “So bearing that in mind, I suggest you consider your actions or rather your reactions in the future. I don’t want to get rough with you, but as you’ve seen, I’m not above doing it.”

“My actions?” He didn’t bother to hide his surprise when you finally broke your silence. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall ever having someone kidnapped for any reason, let alone to satisfy my own vanity.” He was quick. Despite his surprise, Wriothesley was able to volley a response back to you or rather he tried too. “That’s not-” You scoffed looking away for a moment. Any excuse or justification would go as far as his own lips. You didn’t want to hear them. You didn’t care about them. Clearly, based on your own feelings, they didn’t matter. Nothing could justify what he had done to you, nor would it justify anything that would happen in the future.  You could spend a thousand years with him and still call him a stranger. Above you, he let out a long breath. Your refusal to hear him had given him pause. You could tell those cold eyes were still firmly fixed on your face. He was intently watching every single thing you did. You knew he was.  When you finally decided to turn back, your eyes met his. They had never left you. He merely traded the view of your face for the back of your head and vice versa. Beneath the surface, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling within his eyes. He wasn’t as confident as he appeared. Wriothesley had worries, he had concerns. There was even what you felt was a twinge of doubt if you looked long enough. 

In turn, his eyes read and judged every emotion, every expression that you didn’t bother to hide. They saw your anger, your confusion, and even your own fear. You hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet, but you were every bit afraid as you were angry. In the span of a night, your life had become the property of someone else. He could do anything he wanted with it. You were powerless in stopping him from doing anything he wanted. Your current predicament was proof of that. “Look, I-” He let out another sigh. “I don’t want our first true interaction to happen this way. Please don’t be like this.” Please don’t fight. That’s what he meant. Just submit to his wishes and desires. Don’t make him beg, don’t make him force you. A not so impassioned plea from a man who was a stranger to you. He was trying his best to placate the fury that was radiating off your body, but the wound he had inflicted with his actions was far too fresh for it to work. “I’m happy to make nice with you. I’ll chalk the escape attempt up to the fact that you’re still adjusting. Perhaps I was being a tad unrealistic with how long it would take you to work through everything. Though-” There was a long pause after that. “in truth I would like an apology. You nearly burned half my face off with hot porridge.” He gestured to the side of his face as some sort of reference. You silently stared back, wishing you had. There was a chance you would have gotten away or at the very least put some much needed space between you and him. “Come on. I’m giving you an easy out here. Just apologize and we can move forward. It will make things easier for us both if you do. Believe me when I say that I would rather spend the limited time I do have with you doing anything else but fighting with or punishing you.” Swallowing, you silently noted that he was in for a rude awakening. “I would rather be at home, in my own bed. But we can’t always get what we want, can we?” A chill washed over the room. You weren’t sure if it was him or you, but you felt it all the same. “Instead I find myself at the mercy of a lunatic!” Your voice shook as the fear began to overtake your anger. The lack of food was fueling your desperation, which in turn was driving both your fear and your anger. You could feel yourself slowly losing control. It was a vicious cycle, which was reaching its conclusion at a rapid place. “I have no intention of playing this sick game of yours.” His entire body sagged in what you could only guess was disappointment.

“God-” He rubbed his scared eye with his free hand. “I truly didn’t think you would be this stubborn.” His hand fell back to his side as he stared at you with fondness. “It’s cute though. I like someone with a little bite to them. Makes things interesting. Still, I was hoping you would get the message right off the bat. But, if you insist we spend this time this way, then so be it. I will be all too happy to give you what you are so eager to earn.” He wrapped a length of chain around his hand, tightening what was left between you and him, pulling your arms towards the d-ring. You had to inch forward on your knees, just to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. “I will, out of the kindness of my heart, forgive earlier.  Before I left for my meeting I did tell you that you could be upset with me and in that spirit, I suppose you were only doing as you were told. I can’t fault you for it.” He wrapped another length around his hand, pulling the chain even tighter and you ever closer. “Just now though.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he silently recalled what had just transpired. “I’m afraid I can’t forgive that. Refusals, altercations, and escape attempts are strictly forbidden from here on out. As I mentioned, you are the master of your own treatment. Behave and we can co-exist peacefully. I might even consider special privileges if I’m convinced you’re sincere in your behavior.” Refuse him or fight him or even try to escape him and you would end up where you were now or possibly somewhere far worse. 

In retrospect, you knew your current predicament was fairly mild compared to the ways he could make you suffer. Humiliation, starvation, degradation, and pain were only the first steps. There were bones that hadn’t been shattered, flesh that hadn't been marked, limbs that hadn’t been removed. You and he had a long way to go before you reached the point of no return, and that’s if you ever got there. In the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t last that long. He would break you long before you ever got to that point. “Am I being clear?” “What-” Tears stung at your eyes for the first time, closing your throat and forcing you to momentarily choke on your own words. You didn’t want to admit defeat so easily, but what other choice did you have? This was his world. Even if you managed to get free, no one within the fortress or outside of it would help you. He could easily send the guardes or even himself after you. The general population of Fontaine wouldn’t question why a fugitive from the fortress was being hunted. The assumption would be you were just another escaped convict. A threat that the Duke himself felt he needed to personally handle. 

It was only then that you realized your disappearance probably hadn’t even been noted. It had been the weekend when you had gone out. Work had been tiresome and the promise of a day off meant you had the chance to blow off some much needed steam. With that in mind, there would be no one to miss you if you didn’t show up the next day. Same for the day after. By the time you did have to return to work, Wriothesley would have had plenty of time to cover your tracks. He could make your disappearance seem quite ordinary. Maybe you had run away to Sumeru, you had been talking about it or perhaps that serial killer got you. Wouldn’t that give your co-workers something to talk about? Maybe no one would even notice. People came and went from your place of work everyday. It wasn’t that unusual for someone to be there one day and gone the next. The reality of that hit you harder than the sedative had. No one could help you. No one would save you. Not a single soul, outside of those involved, knew you were here. No one, outside of the man standing above you, cared.

You choked back a sob as that information sunk in. It was loud enough and perhaps distraught enough that Wriothesley drew his brows together in genuine concern. From your vantage point you could see he wanted to check on you, to ask if you were alright, but he held his tongue. He just stood there, staring at you as hot tears spilled freely down your cheeks. “What do you want?” A pregnant pause followed that. As if the answer was stupidly obvious to everyone, except you. 

“I would think that is rather plain.” You looked up at him again through tear stained lashes, sniffling as he moved closer. “I want you.” Your throat bobbed, thickly swallowing the rising panic that was filling your body. You racked your brain, trying to think of any reason as to how or why this happened. How had an excuse me, an introduction, and have a nice day translated into you being in chains at his feet? The encounter between you had only lasted seconds. In your own mind, there was no feasible way a chance meeting could have this result, unless the meeting itself wasn’t by chance. 

Your eyes flew back to his face as your mind began to put all the puzzle pieces together. Chocolates, flowers, perfumes, and even lingerie had been sent to you in droves over the course of the year. Your mind whirled, suddenly recalling all the other strange or odd occurrences that had happened, especially in the last few weeks or so. The feeling of eyes watching you everywhere you would go. Strangers scribbling notes when they thought you weren’t looking. Your clothes, namely your underwear turning up missing every time you took your things to the laundress. The door to your apartment being unlocked despite you remembering that you had locked it. God. Your eyes got wider as the full picture came together. A year. Oh god, he had been watching you for a year.  “Look who finally figured it out.” 

On instinct, you tried to pull away, but his foot slamming down on the chain brought that plan to a decided halt. Your body jerked with the chain, a frustrated whine escaping your throat as you continued to struggle against the cuffs. Escape in this case was utterly futile. You knew that. The chain that was connected to your wrists was firmly in his hand. Even if you managed to get away from him, the room you were in only had one visible door; the chamber from which you had just come. The exit you could not see, the one that would take you to the rest of the fortress was almost assuredly locked. Then there was the fortress itself. A maze of locked doors and heavy bars. If the building itself didn’t stop you, then the guardes most certainly would. All Wriothesley needed to do was raise the alarm and he could have your right back where you were now in a matter of minutes. “You know-” Your eyes met his again, noting the hints of malice that were beginning to swirl in the icy blue depths. “I never believed that you didn’t fully know.” He leaned down, resting an arm on his thigh as the slack portion of the chain rattled in the background. “I told myself that no one was that unobservant of their surroundings.” A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong. Seems like all those nights where my anxiety kept me awake were in vain. You had no clue, did you?” He furrowed his brow, gently chuckling again. “Did you ever think to ask? Did you just assume someone was sending you gifts and that would be that?” You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, maybe leave another scar while you were at it. “Of course I asked.” Since you couldn’t slap him, you tried to add some venom to your voice, hoping it would compensate for your lack of movement. “I spoke to the couriers and the stores. No one knew. They all said the same thing. All the orders had come with the necessary payment by mail via an unmarked envelope.” There had been no indication of where the letters had originated from. The only thing worth noting about them was the simple stationary on which they had come. The paper lacked the ornate embellishment that was associated with the upper class, yet the paper itself was of a high enough quality that you could discern the sender had money. That theory had been further proven based on the gifts he had sent. Everything you had received was from the finest shops in the Court and of the highest quality. They had all cost well above what the average admirer could spend. That had told you that your devotee was at least well to do. Wriothesley, as the Duke of Meropide, was certainly that. “I thought that when my admirer was ready, they might be normal and present themselves properly.” Not have you abducted and brought to the bottom of the sea. “Because that would have gone oh so well.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sure that I’m exactly what you were expecting, hm?” He wasn’t. 

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the obvious. Wriothesley had been the last person you had been expecting. Worse though, was the thought of the Administrator of the Fortress coming to your door for no explicable reason. Even with flowers in hand, the idea was a terrifying one. The Duke of Meropide wasn’t exactly a celebrated figure in the eyes of the citizens of Fontaine. While his rise to prominence certainly made him an enigma, the few that knew what he looked like, tended to avoid him at all costs. To see the Duke or any officers of the law on your street was often a sign that trouble was soon to follow. If you had known that Wriothesley was your admirer or if he had shown himself to be interested in you in a normal way, it was entirely likely that you would have run. Even knowing that you had committed no crimes in the eyes of the law, the risk of having him so close was one you didn’t want to take. The goal of every citizen was to avoid the fortress and all of those associated with it. You weren’t excluded from that. “See the dilemma?” Your first reaction was to fix your eyes to the floor, while you felt the first twinges of embarrassment creep their way up your neck. “Kid- kidnapping isn’t exactly a viable solution.” You raised your eyes to him again, trying to make that sound as harsh as possible. “Neither is this, for the record.” He just laughed. “If we’re adding things to the record, then throwing hot porridge in the administrator's face isn’t exactly the smartest of moves. Neither is disobeying my orders or trying to escape.” You squirmed, stupidly pulling on the chain as your own frustration spiked. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” He laughed again. This time, his laughter echoed off the walls, hurting your ears. 

“You hadn’t done anything wrong.” Until you threw the food in his face, and kicked him, and disobeyed him, and tried to escape. “I don’t think I need to list the crimes for you. I’m sure you’re aware.” Crimes? Your mind whirled at the very mention of the word. It was inconceivable to think that you had done anything wrong.

Fresh tears stung at your eyes as the frustration his words caused you, washed over you. No. It couldn’t be. You were innocent. He had abducted you. He had tricked you. You weren’t his prisoner. “But as the administrator of the fortress, it is at my discretion on how you are punished.” Wriothesley stood to his full height, reaching for something in his pocket. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t have time to deal with that.” He produced a medium sized lock, which was promptly attached to the chain and the d-ring, forcing you to hold your position at his feet. “I have more meetings. I suppose for now-” He mockingly thought about it for a moment. “Your punishment can be that you get to think about how you’re going to make it up to me or maybe, you reconsider your attitude. If not, then perhaps I’ll have to get slightly more strict with you.” From your vantage point, you watched his eyes drift away from you, focusing on something behind you. There was only one thing that could be; the room you’d woken up in, the bed. “Seems cruel to consider.” Your eyes went wide at the thoughts that were running through your head. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “I’d hate to do it.” Wait. “But maybe I was too nice at the beginning.” No. “Maybe I’ll just leave that with you though.” His focus came back to you. “Based on your expression, you get my meaning. Persist on your current path though-” His tone developed a steely, authoritative hardness to it that you didn’t like. “And perhaps I’ll go against my better judgment and make you earn things like a bed and hot food, at least until I can be assured that you don’t need too. That’s if I can be assured at all.” You blindly shook your head as you realized this man intended to keep you indebted to him for the rest of your life. “No? Well-” There was an odd chuckle that followed that. “Tell you what.” A long pause stretched out between you. He waited, oh so patiently for you to finally look up at him before he opted to continue. “I might be inclined to go easy on you. If you decide you’re ready to behave.” If. It had the same inflection as before, though this one possessed more doubt than its predecessor had “Let’s test the waters. I’ll give you something easy, something simple. I bet you couldn’t take more than that, could you? By now, I’m sure you’re feeling a little drained.” There was a brief moment where you thought to challenge him on that. Drained wasn’t the right word for it. Exhausted maybe? Famished and dehydrated; absolutely. In your mind though, you believed you could take all he threw at you and more, but your cramping stomach and oncoming dizziness told you otherwise. Your body had been taken to its physical limit. It couldn’t handle anything more; not without getting food into you first. “Let’s try… you giving me a smile again. That seems like a simple thing. I’ll even sweeten the deal. Give me a smile and I’ll bring you a little something to eat. I bet you’re pretty starved by now. Some fresh bread or maybe even some fruit, surely that’s enough to get me a smile?” It shouldn’t have been. In any normal circumstance, it wouldn’t have been. Had you been back in the court, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. But here, in his world, you didn’t have that luxury. Here he could determine every detail of your life, including when you ate next. Considering you had already gone a day, you briefly wondered how cruel he could be. Wriothesley ran both hot and cold. His reactions shifted between the two with frightening regularity. It made him difficult to read in a situation like this, which was why you had to consider your answer carefully. 

There was no winning here, you knew that. Wriothesley had stacked the deck against you long before your kidnapping and arrival. Now he’d dealt you the losing hand he’d prepared for you.  If you refused, would he cave due to his own feelings for you and bring you a meal anyway or would he demand an even higher toll for your next meal? Would he let you starve if you refused to pay that price? How many meals would he allow you to miss before the inevitable happened. How many could you stand to miss before you yourself gave in? Upon further review, a smile was easy. It was simple. It wouldn’t tax your fatigued state any further. You could just give it to him to make him go, but again that carried risk. Once meant always. Always meant forever. There would never be a time where you would be able to refuse him without running the risk of being punished. One frown could send you right back to where you were. “Well?” You didn’t want to. 

“I-“ You drew in a slow steadying breath, trying to calm the emotions that were running through you. At this stage, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to lunge at him and you wanted to do it, all at once. You couldn’t though. Even if you felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t give in just yet. For now, you had to remain in control. “I hate you.”  Above you, he released an incredulous scoff.

“Believe me, I’m aware.” His nonchalance about this whole thing only served to irritate you further. He was acting as if everything that had happened between you was a normal thing. As if he kidnapped and manhandled and humiliated people everyday.

“So why should I smile at you if I hate you?” You swallowed as your eyes found his again. He towered over you, giving the answer very little thought.

“Because I asked you too.” You hated how his tone sounded almost thoughtful. “Let me be perfectly clear, unless the world is about to end or you are deathly ill, I will be your sole companion here. That means you will rely on me for everything.” And the fruits of that reliance were determined based on how well behaved you were. In his words, you were the master in your own treatment, which meant you decided your own fate. “We can keep on this path, if you like. I can play the mean warden just as easily as I can the affable fellow. It makes no difference to me how we get there, just so long as you understand we will get there in the end. One day those defenses of yours will crumble and that anger you currently feel will give way to something else.” Was he implying you would fall in love with him? “It happens to everyone down here. Some get angry, some are perfectly fine with it.” “I will never be fine with it or this.”  He smirked again, a gentle spark of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We’ll see. I tend to have a pretty good handle on people, especially when it comes to how they’re going to react to certain things. You’re no exception.” His head tilted slightly. “But keep telling yourself whatever you need to keep that fire in you burning.  I’m beginning to find your anger endearing. You’re cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” He chuckled, his smirk growing larger when the sound only served to make you angrier. “Maybe I’ll lock down the pankration ring one day, just so we can spar. It might be fun to turn you loose for a little while, if for no other reason other than to get my hands on you.  But I suppose that depends on one thing?” You let out a heavy breath, grinding your teeth in mild frustration. “What?” “Will you smile or not?”

[xiakato]

Through The Dance Of Fire And Rain: Solitude

This first part of this short series is mostly world building, smut will come later

The rain shatters on the cold cobblestone walkway, the dark clouds taking over the once beautiful blue. The sounds echo through the desolate, empty streets. The sorrowful cello and piano. The music from both beautiful melting into the rain. The rain doesn’t let up, neither do they. A girl, curious yet afraid, follows the sound. Drawn in, she finds her steps slowly, taking in the sorrowful tune, the darkness hidden beneath such sadness. Typically she stays inside, but something compelled her to exit her safe home, in such weather no less. The once bustling street, now empty, a shell of its splendor. The sorrowful tune leads her to the Cathedral, a place she has gone a handful of times. Yet this place is a mystery to her, The beautiful gothic architecture goes hand in hand with the sadness and darkness that echoes through the streets, the alleys.  She pushes one of the heavy cathedral doors open, laying her eyes on them.  Two beings, one holding a cello, the other playing the piano ever so gracefully. Almost ethereal, the rain hitting the windows in stark contrast of their all white clothing. She wants to stop and watch them from afar yet she keeps walking, entranced. The cello player lays his eyes on her as if he sees through her entire being. Her muddy shoes dirtying the pristine cathedral floors, her umbrella falling to her side, her damp hair sticking to her face. The beautiful sorrow that is unfolding in front of her eyes is too much, overwhelming. 

The woman now takes a glance at her, unfettered in her pursuit of true pain. She has heard of these two, only appearing when the rain does, disappearing as quickly without a trace. A tear rolls down her cheek, she doesn’t notice as her mind floods with her past relationship with the town dock hand. He wasn’t the best but wasn’t the worst, he tried yet it wasn’t enough. He moved on quickly, she didn’t. She is still stuck on him like the mud to her shoes. She comes back to bearings wiping the tears away from her eyes. Focusing on the two ethereal like beings that are now only a few feet away from her. Both of them are staring at her as they continue to play, bringing sadness to this town. Their eyes are devoid of emotion, of life.  The man slowly ends playing his cello.

“What brings you here young girl?” His voice is deep, commanding and soothing. 

“I felt like I needed to come here,” Her voice is oddly confident, surprising even herself. 

“Then,” He pauses looking over at the woman, she stops slowly as well, “You must need answers.” 

“Answers? I don’t need answers to anything.” 

“Answers to why you never got on with the dock hand, tragic. That boy is such a pure soul, heaven has high hopes for him.” 

“What do you mean?” She asks, her eyes quivering yet not leaving the man. 

“His soul is pure, chosen by heaven to ascend when his time has come, he will become one of us.”

“What are you…?” 

“We are angels,” The woman talks now, her voice cold and distant. The young girl looks at the woman, stunned at her beauty despite the lifeless behind her beautiful emerald girl eyes. Looking back at the man, he has a smile, albeit very small. 

“Then why didn’t it work?” She asks, eager to hear the reasoning behind it.

“He’s pure, you’re not. In fact the darkness in your soul is what led you here,”  The man explains to her as he stands up, his height catching her off guard, “Don’t be afraid, the darkness that has been inside your soul this whole time is merely waiting till you are able to feel it.”

“What will happen when I do?” 

“You’ll become like us, we are angels yes, but we are more and less than angels, We are the fallen.”

“The fallen…” She mutters as she looks between the two.

“Yes my dear, The Fallen, we are fallen angels, distracted and consumed by the darkness in our souls.”

“How can I not become like you?”

“Find them, find your fated lover. They will restore the purity in your soul.” 

“Do you guys not find yours?” 

“I did, I wasn’t his,” The woman stares at the window, her fingers itching to play the keys once again. The young girl looks at the man, waiting for his answer

“I killed her,” His eyes reflect a tinge of pain before going back to dull and lifeless, taking up his bow. He stares at the other fallen, “Wonyoung,” His voice soft, tender filled with unexplainable emotion. She smiles ever so slightly hearing her name fall from his lips. 

“Y/n,” Her voice filled with the same unexplainable emotion, the young girl can only stand and watch as the beautiful sorrowful fills the senses once again. She watches on, they ignore her, her questions left unanswered, unasked. She turns away and walks back down the center, slowly taking in the tinge of heartbreak, despair. Pulling back up her umbrella, a note falls to her hand taking it and reading it aloud. 

“The heart was meant to be broken,” She stands still taking in the note before tossing it aside, walking away quickly. She feels their gazes on her as she walks away. 

Getting back home, she is greeted by her mother, “Oh Kazuha, I was just about to go looking for you,” 

“Sorry I took a walk, enjoying the music, “ She explains, kicking off her shoes, and hanging her umbrella. 

“I see, those two have always played such beautiful music, always filled with despair.” 

“You’ve met them?” Zuha asks her mother, curious. 

“Never but some of my friends have, the two of them have been around here since even before your great grandparents my dear.” 

She could only nod, processing the age of the two in the cathedral. Why here? In that very cathedral? She needs more information, the thought of her own predicament fleeing from her mind, she searches through her family's library looking for anything about them, anything. The rain has yet to yield and yet have they. Their sorrow echoes still through the town, her mother sits by the window in the library in the rocking chair. Her eyes closed, her mind filled with the memories of her husband. Kazuha can’t find anything, “Mother?” 

“Yes my dear?” Her mother opens her eyes looking at her only child, the love and affection that is only found in a mother is evident. 

“Y/n and Wonyoung,” She says simply hoping that is enough.

“So you’ve learned their names,” Her mother smiles, looking back at the falling rain, dripping down the window pane, “You wish to know more don’t you?” 

“Yes, mother.” 

“Y/n and Wonyoung, They go back centuries, during the Otrian war. Y/n  was rumored to be a general with a secret love from the enemy nation of Grador.”

“That war was with Grador,” Zuha says, “How does that work in the eyes of his comrades, his subordinates?” 

“Never well, my daughter. The last battle, The battle for Zylourgos.”

“The day that both nations fell.”

“I’ve taught you well Zuha, that day everything changed. Grador’s armies have caught wind of Y/n’s lover. Captured her and brought her to use as a bargaining chip.” 

II

The sounds of marching, armor clanging with each step, thousands of armored men stand close to one another, ready to strike, some scared, some steel their resolve. For Glory, For honorable death 

“General Y/n, we come to make you a deal,” Grador’s general shouts, Y/n’s eyes widen as they drag her out, his hands crushing the stone they rested on, “We will spare your lover, Ning Yizhuo. To bring a end to this war, to end this mindless killing,” 

“What is it that must be done,” Y/n says ignoring the remarks from his soldiers.

“Leave the city of Zylourgos, take all of your forces out of Grador and you may take her with you,” Grador’s General points at Yizhuo. Jumping down from the fortress walls, Y/n stands tall, his strength reverberates throughout the battlefield.

“Release her to me first and we shall leave,” Y/n demands, the general of Grador nods, releasing her. She runs as fast as she can. 

“Y/n!” She calls out desperately, “ Don’t trust th-”

Y/n stares in horror as the spear rips through her chest, “Yizhuo!” he dashes, catching her in his arms, her blood coating his armor. His hand cupped her cheek, her eyes fluttering, catching one last glimpse of his face. As her hand touches his face one last time before her life leaves her, “No no no please Yizhuo, Please not like this. Please please please,” He rocks her in his arms, “Yizhuo please, don’t leave me like this.” 

Y/n screams and screams, yet the screams of pain fall on deaf ears. The sound of iron against iron takes over. That was the day that both nations fell at the hands of one man. 

“The sorrow from his cello makes sense now, but what of Wonyoung?” 

“Wonyoung is a bit of an easier story to tell, Jang Wonyoung, The last Princess of Otria, The Divine Serpent.” 

“Didn’t Y/n kill everyone in both nations?” 

“Wonyoung was the exception. Her chosen one was Y/n,”

“How is that possible?” 

“God doesn’t care for the likes of us Kazuha, questioning him will only lead us to ruin,” She smiles, “Y/n couldn’t bring himself to kill her which led her to become one of the fallen with him, The divine serpent and The divine dragon together forever in damnation.” 

Kazuha sits there in silence looking at her mother watching the rain, enjoying the music. 

“Solitude knows no bounds my daughter, Solitude can make you stronger, but it can also make you weaker. Find your chosen one my dear,” Her mother takes her a coin pouch, “There’s enough to get to the next few towns.” 

“But-” 

“Dont worry dear, I will still be here when you return and so will they,” Her mother gestures out of the window towards the cathedral, “In fact you may even run into them again in your travels.”

Kazuha sighs, going to her room she knows anything she says won’t matter. Packing everything she would need for her trip, everything she hopes she would need at least. She says goodbye to her mother who sits still in that library rocking chair by the window. She sets off in the rain, looking back at the cathedral, leaving with more questions than answers. Yet she is unable to get more, she knows they won’t answer her. She gets to the train station and waits, a book clenched between her fingers. 

III

“Why didn’t you tell her Y/n?” Wonyoung’s voice gained some of the emotion it once had, her slender hands trailing up his neck to his face. 

“Tell her what? That she doesn’t have a destined one?” He looks down at Wonyoung as she nods, “I couldn’t, I… just couldn’t bring myself to tell an innocent girl that she will become like us, beings devoid of emotion.”

“Not being able to tell her that is emotion Y/n,” Wonyoung lays her head on his chest, “We aren’t as emotionless as you think.” 

“She doesn’t have a chosen one because of me Wonyoung, of my choices, my actions, my.. Destruction.” 

“God has a plan for everyone Y/n, that was just his for you,” She sways in his arms as they use their powers to continue to play the music. The two dance through the rain, their pristine white clothes covered with darker than black ink, as they dance through their despair, through the streets, empty, devoid of laughter, love, of life. Kazuha’s mother smiles as they pass her house.

“Those two always enjoy themselves in some way,” She cracks a smile as she fades in golden rays of light, the two watching as the rays of light ascend to the heavens. God has reclaim one of his precious angels. The two continue dancing as the rays of gold continue to ascend around the town, the rain comes to an end. The two fallen disappear from the streets, the music stops. People flood the streets once again.  The train finally comes, with Kazuha boarding and finding her seat, her heart feels heavy, burdened by something she feels like she missed. She ignores that feeling, as the train sets off from the station. Her stop isn’t far but far enough from home on foot that it is a two day ride on horseback. She watches through the train window, the clouds that once covered the ever expanding blue now retrating. She smiles softly as the train follows the hill side, silently saying goodbye to the place she grew up. Vowing that she will be back, better and happier. Still the music haunts her mind, she can’t get her mind off it. She slightly understands the pain of Y/n but she can’t come to even understand the pain of Wonyoung, her destiny was to be unable to let him go.  Despite her not being his destined, his chosen one. She watched as he destroyed her nation and another because of another, yet she stands by him. Not allowing him to stand alone in his abyssal despair, haunted by the memory of holding his dying lover in his arms. 

Wonyoung has devoted herself to him, and only him despite knowing he won’t love her the way she does him. Kazuha’s mind doesn’t wrap around it, and doesn't understand what love does to a person. Will she ever? She thinks to herself. 

“Excuse me?” A voice knocks her out of her thoughts, she looks over to a rather good looking man standing before her, “Is that seat taken?” 

“No, go ahead,” She gestures with a friendly smile, he smiles back sitting in front of her. 

“So where are you headed?” He asks, getting comfy in the seat, “Anywhere exciting?” 

“Unsure, I’ve never left my hometown, so I’ll go where the wind guides me.”

“Ooo a fresh new adventure! Ah, where are my manners? I’m Pulcinella,” He offers his hand to her, she shakes it and he leaves a kiss on her hand.

“I’m Kazuha,” She tells him, as that smile never leaves his face. 

“So I’m guessing that your hometown is the one we just left,” She nods, confirming his suspicions, “tell me have you met them? The rumors around your town say there’s fallen?” 

“No I haven’t,” She feels as if she shouldn’t tell this man she just met about them, she feels off by that smile never leaving his face. 

“Ahh rats, I wish to actually meet the fallen once,” he chuckles as they feel back into normal conversation. He’s easy to talk to, he has a broad view on the world, soon he grabs his bags saying goodbye, he jumps out of the window and disappears before she even sees what happened to him. 

May her journey be long and fruitful.