#but they still help out so much and the only thing i make that brings in monies anymore hahaaa

[mayakern]

Things are bad right now.

As many of you know, way back in 2020 we weren’t sure if our business was gonna make it. Our factory was already on break for Lunar New Year–a month-long holiday for many businesses in the area–and with the announcement of COVID19, everything shut down indefinitely. We knew immediately we were in for a bad time. Despite our fears, our sales grew so far beyond anything we ever expected, to the point where we had to hire two employees just to keep up with demand! 

Unfortunately, even after our factory reopened, our problems were not over. Their quality drastically declined almost immediately, to the point that a significant amount of our  fabric would literally fall apart in transit between the factory and our office. Because of this, we discovered that our sales rep had no idea what she was doing and knew nothing about the factory she was representing, so when we told her the fabric was garbage her response was “👍 factory said it’s good!” At the beginning, only roughly 10% of our new product was defective and we were able to sell the affected items with a reasonable discount. By the end of our relationship with that factory, 40% of our midi skirts and 70% of our miniskirts were defective, some affected so severely that they practically fell apart when touched. And still, our rep said everything was fine and there were no problems and the fabric composition had not changed.

So in 2022 we changed factories. We hired Ash to handle this since I was way too busy managing fulfillment to do the amount of research and communication necessary to find us a factory that met our criteria. Finding clothing factories that can make clothing over a size 2-3X is significantly more difficult than one that can’t because it often requires larger and more expensive machinery. But Ash did it: she got us set up with a new factory that has excellent certifications for both their labor practices and their methods for textile production, that delivers consistent, high quality sewing on well made fabric that can be printed without suffering loss in detail–and she was armored with the knowledge for what makes a quality garment so she could check them if they tried to screw us on quality. Their minimum orders were way higher than our previous factory’s, so we decided to focus on ordering more units of fewer designs. We ordered way too much our first round–some of those designs were in stock until the 2024 blowout sale! But it worked out, and slowly we had a warehouse full of stuff to sell.

Fast forward to 2024, business is slowing down between the economy being bad and what seemed to be a general skirt fatigue amongst our customers. We tried expanding into shirts, which would’ve been successful if our minimums were lower. In the late spring we realized we were in trouble if we didn’t make drastic changes and we ultimately decided to end in-house fulfillment and transfer to a third party fulfillment center that would support domestic shipping in Canada and eventually the UK, EU, and Australia. In order to make that transition affordable we drastically discounted everything and that sale was super successful! We were able to begin shipping from the fulfillment center with an almost clean slate, even if it did mean having to close the store for almost two months and thereby missing out on two very important months of sales.

Unfortunately, we were stupid. We continued to order new designs on an every other month schedule instead of switching to an every month schedule, forgetting that having a backstock in a variety of designs is what previously helped us float between orders and now we quite literally didn’t have enough inventory to match the sales we made for last year’s holiday sale.

That brings us to now.

We’re a little stuck. We have a round of skirts in production (yay!) but they won’t get here until February (boo!). To get back on that monthly cycle we would need to order the next round of skirts right now, but we can’t pay for production until that next round of skirts gets here; if the current sale goes well, it’s paying payroll, not production. We are currently in the very difficult, horrible situation of not having enough money for next month’s payroll unless we are somehow able to make significant sales with our very sparse inventory.

We’re scrappy and we do our best to adapt to disasters and I’m sure we’ll find a way to adapt to this one as well, it’ll just take us some time to get there. Basically we’re going to be okay eventually–hopefully later this year–but in the meantime if we seem frantic, now you know why. 

If you’re been considering trying out our viscose shirts but haven’t been able to justify paying full price, they’re on clearance PLUS half off right now! That’s $9-$15 for the viscose tops, and other tops on clearance are $20-$45. Some of the shirts we’re having a LOT of trouble selling are now priced below cost to help us recoup some of the money we spent making them.

Any amount of support helps right now. Sharing posts, telling your friends, buying a $9 shirt–all of it helps. If our clothing isn’t your thing, we also have a Patreon you can support for as little as $1 a month. https://www.patreon.com/mayakern

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day and that 2025 is a brighter, kinder year for us all.

[banananutmuffin28]

hii if u take reqs could u plsss write a wlw semi x fem reader college au where reader and semi are roommates but don’t get along well bc semi is loud/disruptive and always bringing girls over but over time semi falls for reader as they get closer and gets jealous when someone makes romantic advances towards the reader? happy ending and with a reader that has a sweet and cute kind of personality if that’s ok! so sorry if this is too much for a req 😭😭 tysm 🫶

A/N: YESSS! So sorry this took so long! I was a bit fatigued from work, haha.

Se-Mi x FEM! Reader—College AU

You were quite never fond of loud noises.

The distaste stemmed from when you were very little. You always hid away during thunderstorms and cried when the gongs of the lion dances grew too loud.

As you grew, it would become more manageable, but your dislike of it was always still there, lingering in the shadows.

You were the quiet type of girl who'd rather spend her nights curled up around a television, rather than spend her time partying outside.

Being surrounded by the pillows and gentle quiet made you feel safe.

And so, with this knowledge in mind, of course the universe decided to give you the most annoying and irresponsible roommate ever.

Se-Mi.

You knew she was trouble from the very moment you met her.

You purse your lips. You could still recall that time, even now.

She was dressed in a leather jacket and blue jeans. One hand gripped the case of a guitar, while the other was combing through her short hair. She didn't seem too interested in you, rather, it seemed like she merely wanted to get the pleasantries out of the way so that she could go off into her own little world.

You already knew she was a huge fan of piercings. There was one on her lip, one on her nose, and when she started to introduce herself you could catch glimpses of one on her tongue.

And, if her attire was truly the only odd thing about her, then you could live with that.

After all, who were you to dictate how other people dressed?

But, that wasn't the end of it. Hell, it was only the beginning.

For starters, Se-Mi’s room was always half-open, allowing the heavy metal music on her speaker to bleed out into the rest of the dorm. 

You had tried asking her to dial back the volume multiple times, but it never really helped.

It seemed the two of you had very different definitions of the word, “quiet.”

And, what was more, Se-Mi was not bashful about her appearance. At all.

You flush, remembering multiple times when she would simply stroll right out of the shower in only her bra and a pair of very short shorts. You remember once when she had walked straight into the kitchen like that while you were frying eggs.

The sight of her toned stomach and the faint outlines of her abs made you blush. And fuck, were her arms always so muscular?”

You didn’t notice the acrid smell until it was too late.

Later that night during dinner, Se-Mi blurted out, “How the hell did you manage to burn scrambled eggs?”

Se-Mi’s music taste and lax boundaries weren’t the only things that clashed with your own.

She was also a party girl.

At first, she hadn’t visited many, and the few she did frequent never stole her away for more than a few hours.

But then summer hit.

And, from then onward, Se-Mi would always come home at an ungodly hour, smelling of liquor and with her arm wrapped around a girl.

The first time you had seen her like this, you screamed, more for her sake than yours.

"Se-Mi! What the hell are you doing at this hour? And who the hell is with you?"

The other woman merely shrugged, lips curling into a lazy grin as she ignored your question to whisper something into the stranger's ear.

The girl turned a bright shade of red, and then scurried into Se-Mi's room.

You scowled.

Great, so your new roommate was a womanizer.

"Oh, don't worry about it sweetheart. I'm just having some fun," SeMi cooed, stepping over to pinch your cheek.

You wrinkled your nose and swatted her hand away.

Se-Mi pouted.

"And besides," She continues, gesturing a hand towards you, "What gives you the right to lecture me about being up at this hour while you yourself are out of bed?"

You could barely hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

Running a hand along your neck, you pointed to your frizzled hair and tired eyes.

"Your loud footsteps woke me up, genius."

Normally, you were never this rude to strangers, and certainly not so quickly after meeting them. 

But, something about Se-Mi sparked a fire inside you, prompting you to snipe back.

And besides, it wasn't as if she was making any effort to be nice to you.

Unrepentant, Se-Mi waved her hand dismissively.

"Sorry, didn't know you were a light sleeper. I'll be careful next time," She said, in a tone that made you think she definitely wasn't going to be careful next time.

Before you could think of a retort, she began walking away.

"Sorry, sweetheart,” She purred, wiggling her long fingers into the air. “I can't talk for long. I got a girl to see."

As she strolled to her room and shut the door, you let out a loud exhale.

This was going to be a long night.

–

Yesterday, you learned approximately two things about your roommate. One: She was apparently great at sex, and Two: Whoever she brought over could not keep her damn trap shut.

You already knew you looked like a walking zombie before Mi-Na called you out on it.

"Hey girl!" She chirped, skipping up to you with a perkiness that made you jealous. She paused when she got closer, eyebrows drawn up in concern, "You doing okay? You look like a sick bear chewed you up then spat you back out."

You looked at her wearily.

"What gave it away?"

Mi-Na shook her head incredulously.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's how you're literally hunched over like you're suddenly in your eighties and your skin became five layers paler?" Mi-Na grabbed a strand of your hair, appalled. 

"What happened to your shine? Your morning smiles?"

You barked out a laugh.

“It’s just my roommate. She brought a girl over at 2 AM in the morning and the thin walls did a terrible job concealing their concerning noises.”

The brown haired girl jutted her lips out and she cupped your face together.

“That’s fucking terrible! I think I would straight up kill her if she were mine.”

Mi-Na backed away and straightened up.

"That's it! Today after you're done with your classes I'm taking you to the cafe. I can't have my best friend keel over so quickly. What if you were supposed to meet a rich hot woman tomorrow and your death off-sets the universe?”

She clamped your hand in hers and started dragging you over to the vending machines. As she walked, the keychains in her bag jingled softly, making you smile. 

Your eyes trailed to the glittery pink bunny keychain clipping to the front, then looked back to the red one dangling from your backpack.

Mi-Na had purchased it a few years ago when the two of you were in a mall.

“See? Now it’s obvious to everyone that we’re besties!”

The memory eased a bit of the tiredness from you, making your body feel lighter.

Letting out a giggle, you began to skip along with her.

Noticing your change in demeanor, Mi-Na grinned.

“Yes! That’s the bestie I know!”

–

The cafe food really did help. Mi-Na didn’t hold back, and demanded you try each and every one of the pastries and a drink of your choice in order to, and you quote, “Regain your sunniness.”

Honestly, you were surprised you didn’t get a stomachache from all the sweets.

Stomach comfortably full, you strolled along the familiar path on your campus to the dorm. A dumb smile was dancing across your face, and the scenery felt clearer. 

The trees swayed gently in the gentle breeze, and you could hear the birds chirping faintly in the distance. The sun was setting, bathing you and the concrete path in a warm orange glow.

Maybe your dorm state improved, too.

The thought sent a thrill down your spine, setting your chest alight with excitement. You would be roommates with Se-Mi for a very long time–you didn’t want to spend all of that hating her.

But…as you walked, you noticed a peculiar buzz in the air. It bounced along the breeze, managing to sound both obscenely loud and muted at the same time.

You pause, feeling the smile start to die on your lips as you look around.

Was someone throwing a party?

You stare at the many windows of the dormitory, trying to find one with shifting lights or figures of people in the aperture. 

No luck.

You shrugged, and continued to walk.

Whatever. It wasn’t your business, anyways.

–

Fuck. 

Okay, maybe it was your business after all. Because, why in the hell was the music coming from your dorm?

Please tell me I’m just going crazy, You think, heart thundering in your ribcage. Parties lasted a fucking long time and you didn’t have the energy to kick a whole group of people out of your room.

You put your hand on the doorknob, and twisted it.

On the other side were four people. Se-Mi was off to the side strumming the guitar, a man with purple-dyed hair was in the middle with a microphone to his mouth, another man with waves in his hair was drumming, while the last, shortest man had his back turned to you, recording the group.

They all froze when they noticed you.

“Hey, what the hell man?” The guy—whose name you just vaguely remembered was Thanos—hissed, glaring at you. “Do you know how long that took us to get right?”

He turned to the man recording.

“Cut!” He screamed, before running a hand along his face. “Min-Su, I thought I told you to lock the damn door!”

“I-I did!” Min-Su stammered, glancing back at you fearfully. “I swear—“

“I have the key,” You interrupt, awkwardly holding the metal object out. “I’m Se-Mi’s roommate.”

The second her name left your lips, Se-Mi set aside her guitar and rushed to you.

Her eyebrows were furrowed and her face was scrunched up in a frown. “Hey love, why didn’t you knock first?” She asked, a little forcefully. “Now we’re going to have to reshoot everything.”

Your eyes narrowed and you scowled back. 

“Look, it’s not my fault I’m still sleep deprived,” You grumble, jutting a finger at her chest. “Which was your fault, by the way. I was terrified you were throwing a large fucking party in our dorm!”

“Wait—hold on a second,” The drummer interrupted. “Se-Mi, did you fuck your roommate?”

“What?”

“Nam-Gyu!”

For the first time ever, both you and Se-Mi were in sync.

Pink flushed the other woman’s cheeks. She glanced at you for the briefest of moments, but averted her gaze just as fast.

And, you weren’t faring much better. You were suddenly intimately aware of how close you were to Se-Mi, and the fact that if you just reached a little further you could hold her hand.

Don’t you dare think about that, you idiot! Remember how obnoxious she is!

Still, you felt like your face just turned fifty shades brighter, and you were sure your mouth was open enough to resemble a frog trying to catch flies.

“Hey, she and I did not have sex last night,” Se-Mi growled defensively, staring daggers at Nam-Gyu. 

Nam-Gyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming.

“If that’s what you say~”

“Asshole.” Se-Mi whispered. You were inclined to agree.

Thanos put down his microphone, looking unamused. 

“Fuckkk, all this talking’s making me tired.”

He packed his things and walked towards the door. 

“I’m heading out. Peace.”

The others followed suit, until it was only you and Se-Mi.

She blew out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

“Great, now we’ll have to do it again another day,” Se-Mi grumbled as she began to clean up the mess her bandmates left behind.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad…” You start, though when she barks out a laugh you stop.

“Sweetheart, do you know how hard it is to fucking organize a time when we’re not all busy with some shit?”

“Like what? Getting drunk at parties?” You hiss back.

Se-Mi’s eyes widened, then her lip began to curl into a snarl.

“Don’t act like I’m some drug addict, love. Just because I can afford to have fun doesn’t automatically make me some junkie.”

 “The hell? I can have some fun too!”

“You call watching TV and squeaking around with your best friend all day fun?”

You swear your Goddamned roommate is going to be the death of you.

“Yes, I do, and if you don’t want to end up dead in a ditch one day you should try it too,” You grit out, before turning around to your room.

“I’m too tired to keep this argument going. I’m going to bed.”

—

The tension between you and Se-Mi grew each passing day. 

It became suffocating.

Minor problems ended up turning into major fights, and neither of you would respect the other’s wishes.

You refused to leave the room whenever Se-Mi’s band came along.

Meanwhile, Se-Mi blasted her music, and it was so loud that you could feel it reverberating in your rib cage.

Your roommate is a nightmare.

—

The door to Se-Mi’s room burst open.

You flinch, nerves alight as you pull the blanket taut over your cold frame. You rip your eyes from the TV screen, staring at Se-Mi.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, are you alright?”

Se-Mi only scowls in response.

A phone dangles from her hand as she presses it to her ear, completely ignoring you.

“Yeah, of course I’ll be there,” She says. Try as she might to hide it, there was a tremor in her voice.

Se-Mi’s steps were unsteady, and more than once she had to lean against the wall to keep herself from toppling over.

Shit she is not okay.

Concerned, you stand up, leaving your blanket to hang haphazardly on the couch. 

“Hey,” You say, hardening your voice as you make your way to her. “ You’re not feeling well, are you? Seriously, go sit down.”

Se-Mi sniffed, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s just a cold,” She replies curtly. “Why do you care, anyway? Don’t you hate me or some shit?”

Her harsh words cut open your heart as you feel your face fall.

“What?” Sure, I may not like you and you’re certainly an ass, but I don’t hate you.”

You pause.

“And even if I did, I still wouldn’t want you making a mess all over the living room floor.

You stop mid sentence to grab her arm. “Come on, you look like you’re going to vomit.”

“Get off me!” She snarls, though she barely has any strength to push you away. The taller woman tries to move away, but she suddenly doubles over in pain and ends up curling into you instead.

“Shit…”

“Hey, senorita are you alright?” 

Thanos’s voice could be heard on the other side. His voice was a little soft, muffled by the sound of music.

“Give me that,” You demanded, before putting on the brightest voice you could muster. “Sorry, Thanos, but Se-Mi isn’t going to attend whatever you’re planning. I’m putting her on house arrest.”

“What? Why—“

You end the call before he can say more.

Se-Mi was glowering at you, her chest heaving. She was still leaning at you for support, though you could tell in her eyes that she loathed every second of it. 

“What the hell was that for? I don’t need your help—“

She starts to cough.

Hastily, you bring her to the sofa and bundle her into your blanket.

She looked like an oversized blanket burrito.

The corner of your mouth tilts up, and you could barely suppress the giggle bubbling up in your throat. Your roommate looked so…soft like this.

You could almost call it cute.

“Are you just gonna stare at me all night?” Se-Mi mumbles, snapping you from your thoughts. Her cheeks were tinged pink again, and she nervously played with her lip piercing.

Heat rushed through you.

“Of course! I’m so sorry,” You stammer, and run to get her a cup of water and a cold towel.

When you come back, you find Se-Mi curled up in a ball. Her gaze was fixated on the telenovela you were watching, and she gripped the arms of the sofa.

“They’re so stupid!” She exclaims hoarsely when she hears your footsteps. She pauses, taking a swig of the cup you handed to her before continuing. “How can they be so oblivious to their feelings?”

Who would’ve known your obnoxious roommate likes soap operas of all things. 

You liked it. At least now you could bond with her over something.

Giggling, you crawl onto the couch with her and pat her back.

“Shhh, give them time. I’m sure they’ll sort through their love problems eventually.”

She chewed her lip.

“They better, else I might reach through the screen and smack them both on the head.”

A snort escapes your lips before you could quell it. Se-Mi grins, leaning closer to you. 

A loud explosion draws your attention back to the screen, and you quiet down. Se-Mi follows suit, scrunching her nose as she watches.

When the episode finishes, she lets out an angry groan.

“It was so obvious that that witch was lying!” She grumbles, freeing a hand so she could point it to the screen. “They’re so stupid, love!”

You laugh again, wrapping your arms around Se-Mi.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait until next week to see what happens next.”

She stills in your embrace, exhaling softly.

You frown. “What’s wrong, Se-Mi? Do you not like being hugged?”

She shakes her head. 

“Nah, sweetheart, it’s just…” She trails off, trying to fit her thoughts into words. “I’ve been an ass to you, yet you still cared enough to take care of me and let me hog the blanket.”

Se-Mi turns to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The way she looked at you so earnestly–with shame and gratitude flooding her eyes–awoke some primal feeling inside you. It was like you had just run a marathon; your nerves were alight and you were breathing oh so heavily.

Nervously, you reach a hand out to her, praying to any and every God out there that she wouldn’t notice your flushed skin. 

“I…was a bit of an ass too,” You admit, hating the hitch in your voice. “Let’s call it a truce?”

Se-Mi beamed and clasped your hand in hers. 

Her skin was hot.

“Yeah.”

“She paused.

“Hey, you said the next episode will come out next week?”

“Yup.”

“Could I maybe…be there to watch it with you?”

 Se-Mi seemed to have to force the words out, and she bowed her head slightly.

Your eyes widened. But, it wasn’t long before a stupid grin made it on your face.

“Of course!” You chirp. “Be warned though, I might talk your ears off.”

Se-Mi gave you a wry smile.

“There are worse ways to die.”

“So, it’s a date?”

Se-Mi gasped softly and you cursed yourself. You had always used that term with Mi-Na, and it didn’t matter much since she was straight and you were not. 

But…this was different. Se-Mi was very vocal about her complete disinterest in dudes.

And, it wasn’t like you weren’t attracted to her on any level. Again, the memory of Se-Mi’s toned body and slender fingers barged back into your mind. You saw how well she played the guitar, and noticed how she would always leave in the morning to run laps around the campus.

More than once, you had nearly choked on your coffee when her shirt would ride up just enough to reveal the light abs beneath. 

 Embarrassment began to pool in your gut and you scrambled to save yourself.

“As friends!” You yelped with a little too much enthusiasm. “As totally, 100% platonic friends.”

Se-Mi didn’t respond, and instead chose to stare at you blankly.

Fuck.

Did you really just ruin the budding friendship you had with your roommate?

With each passing second, it became more and more unbearable to feel her gaze on you. Maybe it would be more merciful to disintegrate into a thousand particles right now and be swept up in a dustpan. 

“You know, sweetheart, with how you worded that it sounded anything but platonic.” Se-Mi finally teased, eyes twinkling as she began to unfurl the blanket from her body.

Sweat glistened from her neck, and the tips of her ears were tinted pink.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I swear!” You squeak, which only serves to make her laugh harder.

“Really now?” She whispered, slowly crawling to you. Se-Mi was careful not to crush you, placing one knee between the spot in your legs whilst resting the other to the left of you.

And it was oh so unfortunate that she was wearing a shirt with a low V-neck today.

Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it—“

Boobs.

Your mouth opened into a silent scream.

Se-Mi shook her head fondly.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart, I’ll stop the teasing,” She said, eyes glinting mischievously. 

The taller woman moved away and sat back up, cheeks flushed.

“I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah.”

—

After your conversation with her, weekly telenovela get togethers became commonplace. Usually, Se-Mi would bring the blankets and pillows while you prepared the snacks. Once you two were both settled, you’d switch the TV on and snuggle together side by side.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t feel flustered when Se-Mi’s skin brushed against yours, and that you didn’t fantasize about kissing her hot, soft lips while her calloused fingers trailed down your thigh.

You are not falling in love with your stupid, obnoxious roommate. That simply wasn’t possible. You hate her.

You hate her.

You loathed her.

You…

Oh, who were you kidding?

You whine, shoving your face into the blanket wrapped around your waist as you tried to get away from your intrusive thoughts.

Focus on the damned show! Not on how terribly you wanted Se-Mi’s hands to wander across your body, to touch you in the most intimate of places.

No.

No!!

Shut up you dumb, horny thoughts—

“Sweetheart, are you focusing on what I’m saying?”

You gasp, jumping backward slightly.

Se-Mi’s face was so close to your own, allowing you to memorize her features.

Fuck, she’s so pretty.

“Yes?” You stammer?

Se-Mi’s lips twisted into an apologetic frown.

“Next week I can’t attend our movie night, love. My friends have been complaining nonstop about how I “suddenly ditched them” and how they really miss me. Apparently they organized a whole secret party for me and only told me today.”

She blew out a breath.

“I can’t skip a party if it’s literally thrown in my honor.”

Disappointment flooded your veins, but you still tried to smile.

Noticing your reaction, Se-Mi played with her hair anxiously. 

“I’m really sorry, love. If there was any way out of it for me, I’d take it but…my hands are tied.”

“Wait,” You say, suddenly grabbing her hands. “Take me with you.”

Her eyes widened.

“Are you sure, love? Don’t you hate loud noises?”

“I do, but I want to spend more time with you. And we’ve only been focusing on my interests. I want to try some of yours too.”

Se-Mi smiled.

“You’d really do that for me? Thank you.”

She ruffled your hair.

“But, if it gets too much, will you promise to let me know? I’ll bring you home immediately.”

You nodded.

Try as she might, Se-Mi couldn’t contain the excitement buzzing through her.

“That’s great! I can’t wait to see you there.”

—

You frowned, twirling around in the mirror. In front of you, your dress flared out prettily. Your fingers danced in your hair, making sure that no strands were out of place.

You can do this, you think.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

Se-Mi’s voice was muddled through the doorway.

“I am!” 

Eagerly, you opened the door and posed in front of her.

“How do I look?”

Se-Mi inhaled sharply, her eyes alight with an emotion you couldn’t quite describe.

“…You look gorgeous,” She whispers at last.

You grin, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks. 

“Well, you’re easy on the eyes, too.”

And she truly didn’t. Se-Mi wore a buttoned up navy blue shirt and black stylish pants. Her hair was combed, and a small guitar pin was pinned to her shirt pocket.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss her so bad.

You shook your head, once again trying to dispel those thoughts.

This was going to be a normal party. Nothing more.

Se-Mi extended a hand to you.

“Lets go, love.”

—

A disco ball hung from above, coating the large room in an assortment of colors. First, the walls were red, then shifted to green, blue, and so on. 

The table containing the snacks and drinks was crowded, and everyone was talking at once.

This wasn’t your scene.

Immediately, you looked to Se-Mi, and some of that stiffness in your posture melted away.

She looked so content like this, like it was her natural habitat. She chatted with various people, seemingly unbothered by the strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes in the air.

But, Se-Mi would always periodically glance back at you to make sure you were okay. The gesture made your heart swell.

Currently, she was engrossed in a conversation with a man in black slacks. 

You let her be, and started to meander around the room, wanting to stretch your legs.

Suddenly, you felt a cold hand on your shoulder.

“Hey baby,” A very drunk man purred, trying to pull you towards his chest. “What’re you doin’ here, all alone?”

You swat his hand away, disgusted.

“Don’t touch me,” You snapped, and tried to move away.

“Awww, don’ be like that, baby.” He said, his words slurring together. The stranger tried to palm your breasts, and you wanted to retch.

You opened your mouth, ready to retort—

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Her.”

From seemingly out of nowhere, Se-Mi burst into view, her eyes coldly trained on the man in front of you. She all but ripped his hand away from your chest, and slammed him to the wall.

The man shrieked.

“Get off me! I don’ want your dirty hands on me.”

“Oh? So now all of a sudden you care about consent, you dipshit?” Se-Mi sneered, sinking her fingernails into the man’s skin. “You didn’t seem all too worried about it earlier, when you were molesting her.”

The creep didn’t respond, and only scowled, trying to wrench himself free from her grasp. 

“Get out.” Se-Mi spat, finally releasing him. “I want your face out of here in the next thirty seconds, or I’ll throw you out myself.”

The man fell to the floor, and all but scrambled to run out the door.

Se-Mi’s chest heaved up and down. Sweat slicked her forehead, and a snarl was still on her face.

“Did he hurt you anywhere?” She demanded, grabbing your arms to check for injuries. When you winced at her roughness, she immediately relaxed her grip.

“Fuck, sorry sweetheart. You okay?”

You only nodded, pulling her into an embrace.

“Can we get out of here?”

“Of course.”

—

The cold air bit your skin and you shivered, nuzzling closer to Se-Mi’s embrace. Cursing, she hugged you tighter and rubbed your arms.

“Shit, I forgot to bring a jacket.”

“It’s okay…” You mumbled, sinking deeper into her hug. “I like this.”

“That bastard,” Se-Mi hissed angrily. She cupped your face protectively and stroked your hair. “To have the fucking audacity to lay a finger on you while looking like that.”

You hushed her and pulled her closer.

“It’s okay, Se-Mi. I’m okay.”

She sighed.

“I know, sweetheart. I was just…scared. I know you didn’t like him touching you.”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with hers.

“I’d prefer you touch me instead,” You admit, cheeks growing red.

“W…what?” Se-Mi looked like a deer frozen in headlights. Her face turned a deep shade of pink and she ran a hand through her hair.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I mean, you just went through a terrible experience, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I mean it,” You murmur, tilting your face to angle yourself against her lips.

“I…I want you to kiss me. To make me forget his touch.”

Se-Mi exhaled softly. 

From beside her, a car drove past the road, briefly illuminating her face in an otherworldly glow.

She bit her lip, her hands sinking down to your hips.

“If you insist,” Se-Mi whispered, and you could feel her breath tickling your lips.

“Of course I do.”

Slowly, she closes the distance.

Her lips were soft.

So utterly soft.

Se-Mi’s mouth tasted sweet, and you whined, tongue prodding at her lips, begging her passage. She allowed it, opening her mouth for you to explore.

Gently, she began to dip you down, supporting your back with her hand.

When the two of you finally parted, Se-Mi grinned, wearing that stupid smirk that she always had.

“You’re a good kisser, sweetheart.”

She purred, brushing your cheek with her hand.

You sighed, leaning into her touch.

“You aren’t so bad yourself.

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x F!reader Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Very emotional at first, but then it lightens up and gets sweet. Light angst, heavy at the beginning, forgiveness and trying for each other, a little jealousy and hurt, lots of kissing, fingering, oral (f recieving), lots of sexual tension and feelings

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10k (long one)

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy- A/N- I attempt to write a song, I am sure I failed be nice abt it lol! ✨️

Chapter Four 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Five

It has been two weeks since you spoke or saw Choso. He finally stopped texting and calling a few days ago, finally stopped showing up at your work every morning with that cup of coffee that you asked your coworkers to take instead. You don't even look or respond to him, it's too far gone, it's too much.

You don't respond to Satoru either, he was clearly there for fun, which is fine but you can't believe what you've done. After being so set on sex being this end all be all, Ino’s dumping you so soon after clearly fucked you up, and hopping in bed with Choso had been the biggest mistake.

You are out with Utahime at the club, dancing together and giggling, enjoying her so much, even as you miss Choso like you live and breathe. It's all too much, and you don't know if you can ever repair what has happened, to undo the tangled mess you both had become.

You're not putting fault all on him, but you're still hurt by him. You didn't go to his concert, you hate yourself for that, but it would hurt too much to see. You sent good luck necklaces to the three of them with a note saying you were sick (you especially hate to let the boys down too) but there's not much hope for it, not when you can't stomach facing him.

If you never kissed him, you maybe could have lived your life just fine, if you never had him look at you that way, if you never slept in his arms, you could have said it was friendship. But now, even your strong, fourteen year friendship is hopelessly gone.

Take a shot.

Dance.

Laugh 

Take a shot.

Take a selfie with Utahime.

Dance more.

Laugh.

Hollow laughter, laughter that rings just wrong, your eyes aren't as bright when you look in the mirror, but you think you can puzzle together the pieces.

Men flirt.

You ignore it.

Have a drink now.

Dance under the strobe lights.

Laugh.

You're almost human, or at least you're pretending to be, and it almost works, buzzed off your ass and dancing with her helps, giggling as you all walk out in your heels to your ride helps. Taking more selfies and giggling at the reacting on Insta helps, you feel good…

Well, almost.

Choso haunts all of your damn thoughts, it’s like you can’t even imagine things before him, like this gaping hole in your chest. You are tipsy when you get home, images flash as you walk through the door, Choso holding you against it, him on his knees in front of you. Then more images of Satoru, which make you sick.

You never thought actually doing something with the guy you had it bad for since forever would bring you down so badly, it made everything snap into place, things that didn’t make any sense in your mind. It was never just sex with Choso, not from the moment he kissed you and called you beautiful, because you know what ‘just sex’ is, Choso was beyond it.

Now there was nothing left between you.

Choso hearts your pictures, and something shifts, something almost makes you sick about it, not talking to him. You crave to just forgive and forget, to act like this friendship is fixable, to act unbothered, but you can’t just go back now. The decision was made when he first kissed you on that couch, when his tongue ring clicked on your teeth, when his big hands brushed against your waist.

You see his IG is Amber free, and hers is Choso free. You don't know what that means but you can't bring yourself to care anymore, you'd tried to make any sense of any of this and have failed. When you think too much about it, about your decisions, you sob so hard your eyes burn, your cheeks sticky.

You wash your face, put your hair up into a bun, you go back to all of your routines, without Cho Bear things don't really bring you the same joy, but finally you think you can let some of the heartache mend. Snatching up a book and your favorite plush, you snuggle on the couch, buzzed and dizzy. Luckily Satoru doesn't bother you, just a dick pic here and there, you roll your eyes at him.

He was good at what he did, fuck he was real good, but it was not what you wanted, it was what you thought you had to do, to prove something to yourself, that you were inexperienced and overthinking it. But, you were wrong. Choso pushes you to your worst, and you just can't let it continue, you can’t be that girl.

Choso calls, you go to hang up and accidentally hit answer, cursing quietly, hearing the hope in his voice as he says your name.

“What is it?” You ask, tone soft but cold, you haven't talked and don't want to.

“I know you hate me, and I don't blame you. You should.” You tear up as you hear his voice breaking. 

“I don't hate you, I just can't be in your life. I'm sorry.” You sniffle, hiccuping on a cry when you set your book down.

“Will we ever be friends again?”

“I don't think so, but it's not all your fault. We both fucked up.” Choso sighs over the phone, you imagine him in your mind's eye. Sexy and shirtless maybe? Low hanging sweats? Is his hair loose and long?

“I haven't talked to Amber. I never will again.” You blink now.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does! It does. What I did was horrible to you.”

“It's over now. Don't dwell on this. I have to go.”

“Please, please… anything I could do to make you smile again. I hate that I caused this.” You sigh shakily as you hear his crying over the phone. It almost gets to you.

“I'm okay, I promise. Choso I'll always care, I'll always be rooting for you-”

“Please, please… please forgive me.”

“I do. I'm not angry. I'm sad.” You cover your face, choking on your sobs as he does. “I don't hate you not one bit.”

“I hate myself.” You shake your head and can't stop the sobs from wracking your body.

“I know that feeling well.” You both take a breath, both hating what you've lost. “But I promise I don’t hate you, I couldn’t. Take care, please.” Your voice is just a whisper, but he hears you.

“Please, anything, I will do anything, let me make it up. Let me fix it!? I know I'm stupid, I know I was wrong. Please.” His heartbreak in his voice makes it crack over the phone, you’re devastated then.

“Just let it go, okay? Let it go.”

“I don’t want to let you go. I-”

“Good night.” You hang up quickly, cutting off whatever words could wreck your resolve, your hands violently shaking, you press them between your thighs, staring as the phone rings.

Cho Bear.

Will you miss him forever?

*****

It’s been three weeks since you last spoke to Choso now, he quit calling finally, it’s sort of like it was when you were with Ino, when you two couldn’t keep your friendship, but it’s worse because you know what you could have. God, to have even been able to go on a date with him? To imagine building something so beautiful, but instead you’ve ruined it all.

You’re shocked when Megumi and Yuuji are knocking on your door, you stand there still when Yuuji barrels you with a big hug. You sigh, hugging him back, Megumi snakes an arm around you after as well, you almost tear up a bit, thinking of how close all four of you have been so long.

“I missed you two.” You say softly, shutting the door then. “What brings you all over here?”

Yuuji swipes a hand through his pastel locks. “What did Cho do so bad that it’s been three weeks of you ignoring him?”

“Yuuji…” Megumi says with a sigh, dark eyes looking at you seriously. “What he means to say is Choso misses you, bad.”

“He’s so depressed he won’t even play.” You blink at that, looking away then.

“Won’t play? When has Choso not played?”

“He won’t even leave his room aside from work.” Megumi says, your heart breaks further and further.

“I… we can’t be friends. I’m sorry, you two.”

“What, why!? You’ve been friends almost my entire life? As long as I can remember.”

“Yuuji…”

“Did you two…” Megumi trails off, you blush furiously then. “Oh.”

“Oh what? Did what?” Yuuji’s voice annoys Megumi clearly then.

“Tch, just stop.” He looks at you now, seriously. “Is it that bad?”

You nod quietly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “He wouldn’t wanna see me anyway.”

“That’s not true, not at all. Please, just come over, you don’t even have to hang out with him, just let him see you.” Yuuji begs, yanking on her hand now, pulling you towards him so his hands can rest on your shoulders. “You’re his best friend in the world, you can’t just not be one anymore.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Your tears start running before you can stop them, Yuuji frowns, Megumi brushes a hand up and down your back. “I don’t think me and Cho can fix it.”

“So start new.” Megumi’s voice stuns you. “Start fresh, whatever happened you two can get over it. Have you never had problems, fights?”

“Of course we have. I… I’m scared to even face him.” You cover your face and start crying then, letting the weeks of despair fall out with tears as they comfort you. “Guys I can’t.”

“Just spend time with all of us. I know it would brighten his day, you don’t know how bad it is.” Yuuji’s voice breaks just a bit, and then you realize, Choso must be hurting as much as you are.

“Let me get myself together and I’ll head over.” You say with a small smile, emotional as you think of seeing him again.

Could you all ever go back to being friends, when you are so in love with him… love, yes.

Love.

You’re hopelessly in love with your former best friend, how would you play it casual, how could you even face him?

*****

Choso can’t stand not seeing you, not hearing your voice or your little laugh, god he misses your scent, your presence, your everything. Even if he couldn’t see you, he used to swing by and give you that coffee, and you turned every cup down, not even acknowledging him. The heartbreaking call last week had him finally giving up, realizing he had done too much damage.

How could he hurt you like this?

He thinks back now, to all the signals you gave, to all the clues where he has been so clueless. Choso never got attention from girls, a shy guy, a nerdy guy, it’s been the past couple of years he’s gotten popular with his band. He didn’t realize Amber was that insane over him so quickly, and even so, he saw that hurt on your face before the incident in the car.

He told you one thing but did another, and of course you’re done with him, of course you probably went home with Gojo that night, how could he blame you? There you were, painting things clearly, and here he was, not understanding a thing you meant, like the words couldn’t compute, he couldn’t fathom you felt that way.

Choso has barely left his home for the past three weeks, but for the past week he has barely left his room, guitars unplayed, notebooks left unwritten and sprawled all around his room. He can barely eat or think of anything but you, aching to call you, to see you, but he knows he can’t anymore, he knows he’d just be doing more damage, how could he be so foolish?

The doors open of his room and he grimaces then, as his little brother keeps trying to energetically get him out of the house, to give him all this hope that you two could make up, as if it’s even possible. He blinks and covers his face with his plaid blanket.

“Go away.”

“Cho?” He hears your voice then, making him jump up out of bed, sheets all rumpled and a mess, thinking he’s dreaming.

But you’re there.

You’re here.

Your eyes look just a little puffy, your lips trembling as you see him, he tries to smooth his hair, knowing he probably looks terrible, he hasn’t even showered in days he’s just rotted away. Choso struggles to pull himself together, walking towards you then, and he sees it, you’re trembling, as if you can’t even handle this, seeing him again.

But he was wrong.

When you see him like this, a whole mess and so depressed, it destroys your heart, you can’t take it, even as much as you both had messed up here, he was your closest friend in the world. He was always by your side through your heartbreaks, and you were by his side, and now? You were both suffering alone, and for what, for the fear of not forgiving each other?

Choso doesn’t even know what you’ve done, he doesn’t know you were just as bad as him, maybe worse. No, you two don’t date, but it felt wrong, what both of you did, especially in your heart, you didn’t do it for fun, you did it for some petty sense of revenge, and now it’s hard to face him, but you do. You face your best friend who looks like a mess, with his eyes glimmering with tears.

It’s quiet then, Megumi clears his throat. “Let’s give you both a minute, maybe you can make him shower?”

Yuuji nods. “Please do.”

They leave, shutting the door to Choso’s room, a room the last time you were in that he had sex with you, but was it sex? Or did he make love to you?

How he’d stared into your eyes, cupped your face so gently, how he’d asked every moment if things felt good, if you were okay. The memories make you ache, and not just physically, they make you ache for all of him, for his sweet smile again, for him to just hold you in his arms. You’re just standing there, and so is he, you both open your mouths, then shut them.

He’s clenching his fists, stepping closer now, terrified you’ll just run away, but you don’t. You stay there, looking at him, as he feels emotions in his throat, as the tears begin to fall. He steps a little closer, and you let him, giving him the silent go ahead to approach you further, your chest rising and falling with your breaths as they come faster and faster.

Another step, and your boots are toe to toe with his bare feet, and Choso is looking down at you, his hands hovering just above your shoulders, as if he’s scared to touch you. You feel the sobs building in your chest now, not a word is spoken, but seeing your best friend who you love in tears, along with your own regrets makes you break apart.

“You’re here.” He says your name then, and you break into tears when he pulls you against him for a hug, those tight ones in his strong arms you’ve loved forever, you feel so safe, so right. He’s stroking your hair, pressing you against his chest as your arms wrap his chest. “I didn’t know if I’d… if I’d… see you…”

He’s sobbing out his words, you look up through your tears, seeing him, his stubble, his dark circles as you sniffle. “I’m here, Cho.”

“Feel like I’m dreaming of you.” He squeezes you so tightly, but you crave it, you love it, against him finally.

The room is quiet, aside from both of you quietly crying, sniffling and laughing softly when you look at each other. “You do need a bath, gosh.”

“Hush.” He’s smiling, that heartbreakingly sweet smile you’ve come to love, but you have to pull back a bit, taking a breath, eyes fluttering shut when he cups your face, like you’re precious. “I missed your pretty face.”

“Did you?” You tease softly, opening your eyes, burning from tears.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I am sorry I didn’t listen, that I hurt you.” You feel almost sick now, shaking your head. “I fucked it all up, I did-”

“We both did. I have to tell you something.” He nods then, shoving aside a bunch of things to clear you a seat in his gaming chair, pulling you by it, arms on either side of you as he sits on the bed.

“Anything.”

You take a breath, hoping it will help you, but you feel sick thinking of it. “I was intimate with Gojo.”

Choso blinks long lashes, frowning before nodding. “I figured, that night maybe you slept with him?” He tries to hide the hurt in his voice, but fails.

“I didn’t have sex but… um… oral.” You feel like sinking into the goddamn carpet below you, Choso clears his throat, looking away for a moment.

“I figured so, but was it because you wanted to? Was it because he’s Gojo, an old fling? Was it… for fun? Or… was it because I pushed you there?” His heartbreak is so clear it affects you physically, you’re shifting in the seat, fiddling with your hair, sighing nervously.

“It was my decision, but it was based on seeing her with you, it hurt so bad, but it’s no excuse. I acted on impulse and felt awful.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t feel bad, please.”

“Cho I… we…”

“It’s because of me.”

“It’s not!”

“You always try to defend me, even when I’m wrong, and I was so wrong here. You tried to tell me.”

You’re nodding through more tears, he rests his forehead on yours, as you both take shaky breaths. “I did try to tell you, but now I don’t know what to do, how can we go back to how it was?”

“I don’t know but I’ll do anything, be anything for you.” Your eyes lock, his a glittering violet, dark sooty lashes wet and spiky over them.

“Maybe we should start new?” You ask softly.

“As friends?”

“I don’t know, maybe something else.” Your brace yourself for impact, but his next words fill you with so much hope.

“How about… we go on a date.”

“A date?” You blink in confusion.

“A date, me and you, I am asking you on a date. A real one, a proper one, and we get to know each other as… maybe more.” Your heart races then, you feel it, the giddiness at the thought, but then the guilt.

“You wanna date me? After what I did?” Your voice is breaking, you’re no better than him really, maybe you’re worse? What he did casually, you did in retaliation.

“Oh, sweetie…” He brushes your hair back gently, it feels so good, so perfect then, in his room, with his touch. “You did nothing wrong to me, I think it felt wrong for you though?”

“It felt wrong, so wrong. I hate myself for it.” You’re just a breath away from his lips, but both of you hold that inch apart, you bite your lower lip, his eyes dart to it, but he stays that distance.

“What you did makes sense, I’m just sorry I made you feel you had to. I don’t want games, or hurting each other anymore, please. Let’s just have a date, and if you like me, we’ll do another.” You giggle then, the sound makes his heart swell, it makes him so fucking happy, to see how it lights up your face, even as he brushes tears away, thumbs with faded black polish barely on.

“So we’re going to take things slow?” You whisper, hands gliding up his chest, making him tense then.

“Yes, you deserve slow, you deserve to be treated right, and to choose what you want. If it’s me or not, I think we should try, what’s here, this connection? It’s…”

“Epic.” He smiles then, nodding, thumb brushing against your jaw now.

“I’d die to kiss you but I’d like to earn it, please.”

“It better be something nice, now. And you’re paying.” He grins, you’re wiping his tears now, running your hand through his dark messy locks.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry. Will you wear something that shows off that perfect body of yours?”

“I could be persuaded to. But you’ll be a gentleman.”

He nods, holding your little hand over his chest. “I will be.”

You feel it, the flutters in your tummy, at the thought of something like this, it seems so silly, but you’re giddy, hopeful. “So we’re… gonna go on a date.”

“Tonight.”

“You absolutely need to shower then, I can’t with all this.” You tease, he pulls you against him tightly, kissing your cheek, your temple, hugging you just so, you feel his heartbeat on your cheek.

“I wish you could get in there, fuck I miss every bit of you.” He exhales, you feel his words hit your core, you’re aching now, clinging to him.

“I miss it too.” You look back up now at him, smiling as you both just sit there, quietly. “I’m sorry Choso.”

“I’m sorry, angel. So sorry.” You nod, trying to pull yourself together then, brushing your cheeks with shaky hands. “I will not ever let you down again, even if you hate this date, even if you decide we should be acquaintances, just any part of your life you have me in, I’ll follow.”

“Shh.” You kiss his cheek now, cheeks that tinge pink under the light brush of your lips. “You text the time, and I’ll be ready. Oh, and you better shave.”

“I will.” You smile so pretty at him, as Choso’s mind whirls once you leave. A date with you, he needs it to be perfect.

You came to him, you were real.

Yuuji and Megumi burst in now, and Choso has this silly grin on his face, much to their relief. “You better not fuck this date up.”

“You all were listening!?”

“Just to some of it! Choso!”

Megumi snorts. “He’s gonna kill you, Yuuji.”

*****

Choso pulls up in his little Mustang, you stand there so nervous in the night, having gone over twenty outfits before landing on a little black dress, you figure you can’t go wrong with that. It’s lacy on the chest, it cinches just so in the waist and flares out flirtatious, along with a black jacket since the night has a chill. You see his mouth drop when he gets out of the car, making you flush.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, like he’s in awe, it makes you feel beautiful then, Choso makes you feel so much, like you are so special.

“You look handsome, Cho.” You smile up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, fitting his muscled frame so sexy. “I’ve never seen you dressed up like this? Where’d you get these?”

“Put away from a wedding.” He admits, you giggle then, the sound brightening his world, as he takes in your gorgeous face. “Your makeup is beautiful too.”

“Oh thank you! Youtube tutorial.” He grins, brushing his fingers along the backs of your cheek then.

“You nailed that shit.”

“I missed the fuck out of you.” He nods, leaning so close, dying to kiss you, but you deserve the night, a night all about you, to take it slow, so he pecks a kiss on your hand, taking it in his. “Gentleman Cho?”

“Mmhmm. My lady.” He teases, your pulse flutters in your throat as he opens the car door for you now, making a show of dramatically bowing. His hand is on your thigh when he’s driving, yours brushes the backs of his knuckles, so much still left unsaid between you, but the comfort of each other overpowers it.

“Where are we going, Sir?” He exhales, not able to handle you calling him Sir because fuck the thoughts going through his head are insane now.

“We’ll be there soon, I think you’ll like it though?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Me too.” He admits, looking at you as the lights of cars drive by, reflecting against your pretty face as he drives you through the night, catching each one of your features just so every time. “Breathtaking.”

“Oh stop.” He hums a bit, big hands squeezing your thigh gently, thumb brushing along your inner thigh now, you shift just a bit. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being so pretty.”

“Whatever, you’re too much.” You roll your eyes and his laugh fills the car. “I hated it, Cho, being apart.”

He exhales now, grip tightening. “God, me too. I couldn’t bear it, not at least seeing you for that one minute in the morning, it hurt.”

You feel the pain in his voice, no matter how much he tries to hide it from you. “I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay, angel. I understand. You’re probably still hurting, but you’re here.”

“I am here. Terrified.”

“Me too.” Choso pulls up now, and you see it, a beautiful boat in the night, making you gasp at it.

“What!? Oh gosh, I expected a movie?”

“I thought we could have dinner here and just… talk? Relax together? Enjoy the view.” You nod excitedly, and soon you’re walking along the planks, alongside couples strolling arm and arm, Choso watches you carefully, as the breeze blows your hair around your face.

You look like art to him.

You are art to him.

“It’s gorgeous here my god!” Your hands are on the railing, looking up at the clear night sky, the gentle waves of the ocean rolling. Choso can’t keep his eyes off of you, when he agrees.

“Gorgeous.” You look to him then, heating up at his insinuation, at the way he’s looking at you so sweetly, so enamored. “I never meant to make you…”

“It’s fine, Cho.”

“No.” He tilts your chin up, with two long fingers, making you look up at him now. “I never meant to make you feel less than. Not good enough, or worthy enough, you’re worth everything.”

“Gonna make me cry right now?” You whisper, lips trembling, he aches to brush them against his, aches to make every part of you covered in his kisses.

“Just know I appreciate this night, even if it's only once.”

“Hush, Cho bear.” The nickname, so silly and cute, hits him with the nostalgia, of all the years you both were the best of friends, giggling and spending every moment together.

“I’ll hush then, let’s go eat.”

You find yourself across the table from him, you’re nervously eyeing the menu, eyes bulging out. “This is too much.”

“Stop it, please? I did really well for myself with the last show.” You hate that mention then, that you didn’t go. “Don’t be upset about it, I get it. We got your gifts which were very sweet you know.”

“I wanted to go so badly.” You look away, taking a breath, then he’s yanked his seat, dragging it across the floor with a screech, next to you, and you love it, his thigh brushing against yours, his sweet smile.

“It’s okay, I understand. I do. I know you have supported me always, I don’t know if I let you realize how much I appreciated it.”

“I can’t cry, I have on eyelashes, stop.” Choso laughs softly, leaning close and pulling up your menus.

“I’ve never gone on any kind of date to a fancy place, I wanted this to be with you, okay? It’s nothing. But…” He whispers then. “I have no clue what any of this stuff is?”

“Me either! No pictures!?” You lean over then to a couple near you, they smile at you both. “Any advice?”

“I picked the filet mignon, at least I knew the word.” She says, you giggle, nodding then and peeking at Cho.

“That one?” Soon you’re giving the waitress your order, and you can’t help but notice that she’s flirting with him, but instead of how he’d usually be sweet and hopelessly clueless, he wraps an arm around your waist, as if showing that he’s here with you.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in one gesture.

Ino picking his ex over you, Satoru having picked random girls over you, and a serious lack of dating has made your shitty limited experience have you extra insecure, something you realized this past month. Choso even just calling you his friend, though it was true, had hurt deeply once you were intimate.

You’re trying to take it slow, one moment at a time, but god he feels so good, against you, with you. He’s cutting at your steak and feeding you little bites, you both sip wine and just enjoy each other as the boat sways through the water. It’s unlike any date you’ve had, you don’t have to get to know him, don’t have to impress him. He’s Choso Kamo, the man you’ve adored forever.

“So it’s a date, what’s your favorite color?” He teases, you snort in laughter, rolling your eyes.

“Oh stop like you haven’t known since middle school, it’s blue. What’s your favorite color, emo boy, black?”

“Emo boy!?” You are both losing it with laughter, with his every little touch, his sweet smile, he carves his damn place further in your heart.

The dessert comes, a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of ice cream, and you laugh at his messy eating, the way he gets chocolate on the corner of his mouth. “You’re so messy.”

“So were you, I remember.” His husky tone makes your mouth drop open, desire clutching you tightly, especially when he licks it off, you can’t help but remember the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours, the way that tongue just fucking did things.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the thoughts away. “Not gentlemanly, now is it?”

“It’s not, I’m sowwy.” He gives you puppy dog eyes, and you can’t take how cute he is then. You laugh softly, wiping a smudge of chocolate from his face with your thumb. “What’s so funny?” He asks, licking his lips.

“You are.” You reply, unable to stop smiling.

“Am I?” You nod, he’s so close then, his hand on your thigh under the table cloth, you have insane thoughts, what would it be like for him to play with you, right here?

“Shit.”

“Shit what?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, running fingers through your locks now.

“Open up.” Why does everything sound so attractive!? You do as he commands, opening your mouth for him to fork a piece of the chocolate cake, you chew thoughtfully as he watches you with avid attention. 

“Food on my face?”

“N-no. Just so pretty.” He’s blushing now, it takes everything not to completely melt, but you’re still a little scared, a little hurt.

When he’s driving you back and you’re in the car, it also takes everything not to jump him then and there, not to let everything overwhelm you. His hand rests on your knee, smiling over at you when you pull up, the tension is still there, the words so unspoken, you want to say more, do more, but you know you shouldn’t yet.

“Would you like to go to our concert this weekend? I would really love it if you came… I may have a surprise I’m working on.”

“I’d love to, Cho. I miss seeing you guys.”

“Megumi and Yuuji really miss you too.” The guilt eats at you, Choso notices, frowning, dark brows drawn together. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, they understand somewhat.”

“We fucked up so bad.” You blink rapidly, suddenly the car is too small, your hand going to the handle. “I should say good night.”

“Let me.” Choso is opening your door then, taking your hand in his, and you feel it, those butterflies swirling in your tummy, the desire for him in every way possible, as you give him a little tremulous smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“You can indeed, Sir.” You’re smiling so big you can’t stand it, you both are on your porch now, your hand still in his, which he brings to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re like an Emo Disney Prince, Cho.”

“A what!?” You’re giggling again and he snorts in laughter, covering his face. He laughs so hard, and soon you’re just both laughing, looking at each other. He cups your face then, making your pulse race, your laughter easing now, as you stare at him. “You look so beautiful like this.”

“Snorting in laughter?” You ask with a quirk to your lips, he nods then, brushing his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

“Much better than tears.” There is so much between you both, a part of you wants to run inside and hide, another part wants to drag him in and kiss every part of him, but your hand goes to his chest, feeling his heart racing just like yours, just feeling him, being with him.

“I love seeing you smile. I can’t believe we ruined it.” Your whisper breaks him, he shakes his head then, leaning even lower.

“We didn’t ruin anything, maybe we… changed things?”

“You think? Can you… forgive me too?”

“Oh angel, there’s nothing to forgive. We both made a mess of this and hurt each other, but I never once was mad at you.” You step even closer now, swallowing nervously, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck now, one of his arms wraps your waist. 

 “Thank you for a beautiful evening, Choso Kamo.” You murmur, a little smile on your lips.

“Thank you for being you.” He whispers, the warmth of his palm seeping through your dress, making you gasp at it, just the brush of his fingers down your back ends you damn near. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath against your skin, waiting for it, waiting for his kiss.

But he just watches you, with your lips pursed, and your eyes shut, his heart fucking stopped now. He knew it, that he loved you, he had suspected it for so long, but then and there he knew he was madly in love with you. Part of him wants to give you a sweet kiss, the other wants to fuck you so good you forget Gojo ever touched you, warring parts in his mind.

His thumb tilts your chin up, and he pauses. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes open in surprise. “You may.”

As his lips brush against yours, it’s at first sweet and lingering, but then it is like a spark ignites a flame, a passionate desperate kiss that you both crave forms, tongues dancing together, tasting the sweetness of the desert on both of your lips, the tart of the wine, and tasting each other.

Your hands are in his hair, his arms around your waist as he bends over you, you’re both lost in it, lost in each other. His thumbs trace little circles on the small of your back, making you arch into him, his kisses becoming more insistent, more needy. You feel it, the desire coiling in your tummy as he presses you even closer against his hard body, as one of his hands entangles in your hair.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting, staring at each other, his eyes are full of desire, his pupils blown wide, and you see in his own eyes your face, lips parted, your own eyes lidded with desire. You both ease back, he rests his forehead on yours, desire coursing through his veins.

“It’s taking everything in me not to go inside, to have your taste all over me.” His words end you almost, you’re panting softly, nodding then.

“I know, I want it too.” He kisses you again, softer and easier, taking a deep breath and stepping back, leaving just a couple of inches between you now.

“I want to do things right this time. I want you to feel you’re put first. Please, don’t cry, angel.” You can’t help it, it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed to hear from him, tears streaming silently.

“They’re happy tears this time.” You manage to whisper, he exhales then, brushing them gently, kissing your cheeks.

“I hope soon I can ask you to be my girlfriend.” Your heart stutters then, he tenses as if he’s said something wrong. “Not yet I mean… if…”

“N-no, I’d like it soon. I agree we shouldn’t go further tonight though.” He nods quickly, kissing you once more and standing straight, clearing his throat, he’s rubbing the back of his neck all awkward and cute, the Choso you’ve known forever. “You’re still you, hmm?”

His lips turn up a bit. “I’m still me. You’re still you.”

“I am still me. Text me the details of the concert? I’ll be there.” He beams brightly at that.

“Yeah!?”

“Yeah. Good night, Choso. Thank you.”

“Good night.” After he’s watched you go inside, Choso is covering his face, breath coming so quick, he’s kissed you, and not just as some prelude to sex, no he kissed you after a date.

Everything in him is melting, things aren’t completely lost like he thought, it’s like this beautiful rainbow has entered his world again, illuminating the darkness that losing you had left behind. He’s not even sure he deserves your forgiveness, but he knows he will make sure he earns it properly. He stares at your shut door for some time before he leaves, the longing making him ache.

You’re covering your face, a huge fucking smile on it, as your back is against the door, then you have a hand on your heart, feeling it beat again, for the first time in weeks. You take off your heels, unzipping your dress then, heading to the bathroom to start taking off your makeup, mind whirling. Choso wasn’t lost, and maybe you weren’t lost either.

You try not to get your hopes too high, to not be too quick to think everything will be fine, you both hurt each other deeply, and you have a lot to go, but tonight made the dark bright again, made you realize Choso was your brightness. When you’re in bed, snuggled under the blankets, your phone buzzes and you look quickly to see it, a text from Choso.

Cho Bear: I hope you have a good night, but I have to admit… I’d die to have you in my arms.

His text hits hard, it hits brutal, it was only one night he’d held you like that, but you can’t get it out of your head, how it felt perfect. Like you were supposed to be there, safe and protected, cherished. Even now to think of him holding you brings emotions forwards, the longing in his words matching yours.

You: That would be lovely, I enjoyed that night.

Cho Bear: I enjoyed it too much, especially watching you sleep.

You: Creepy sleep stalker!

Cho Bear: A little bit.

You’re giggling again, eyes heavy now, and he sends the details of the concert coming up while you yawn.

You: I can’t wait, good night Cho.

Cho Bear: Good night, pretty.

You also see a text from Utahime, asking for details, you’re half asleep with one eye open as you text her back that it was so fun. She had encouraged you to go and give it a try, and you’re so happy you did. She gives you a million heart emojis then, making you smile sleepily.

To be in Choso’s arms, you don’t know if you’ll get there any time soon, but in your dreams, there you are.

*****

“She came!” Yuuji exclaims that weekend, you and Choso were back to him bringing you that coffee at work, in fact it came along with a little peck on your cheek every morning. It would make you think of him all day, it would put this goofy smile on your face, but aside from that, you haven’t seen him.

The concert is at a very popular club in the city, and it’s packed, there is Choso’s band and a couple others there, when you walk in and you see them. Yuuji waves excitedly, Megumi gives a little nod, and Choso brightens up, calling your name and waving you up to the stage then.

“You came!” He picks you up in his arms then, a giant bear hug that makes you feel so small as he lifts you up, you hug him around the neck as your feet dangle off the ground, smiling against his cheek.

“Of course I did, I couldn't miss it.” He eases you down as some onlookers come, one including Amber, who makes Choso tense as she strides up.

“Choso, I haven’t talked to you! In forever…”

“Is that your girl?” Another girl asks, Amber laughs then.

“They’re friends.”

You gulp now, panicking as several people come around curiously, and you want to fall into a fucking hole, terrified of what his answer will be, you’re not together yet, so whatever he says…

“No, she’s my girl.” You blink up at him, gasping, he eases you down and wraps an arm around your waist as the whispers start.

“Your girl?” Amber asks, arms crossed with a scowl.

“She’s pretty!” Someone else says, making you flush, snuggling up to Choso, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He looks at you then, shaking his head. “I want to.” He murmurs, pressing a little kiss on your lips in front of everyone, Megumi and Yuuji are grinning as the girls are babbling, and people from the crowd ooh and ahh. But Amber?

“Really? Her?” Choso tenses then, glaring over at her.

“Yeah, her, what’s that mean?”

“Cho, it’s okay…”

Amber stomps up to him then, leaning close. “You forgot the last time we hung out?”

“I’d love to forget. You can go on if you mean to insult her, because damned if she’s not perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Why don’t you go on?” Megumi says then, eyeing a bouncer. “Or we could have you escorted?”

“Whatever.” She grumbles, dragging her friends out with her, and suddenly you can breathe just a bit, looking up at him.

“You didn’t have to say all that, it’s okay really.”

“It’s not okay for her to talk that way. She’s nothing.” He cups your face, forgetting the audience right along with you, until Yuuji clears his throat, and you smile at them, tummy doing fucking flips at how good you feel.

“Thanks Megumi.” You say softly, he shrugs.

“She’s a bitch.” You snort a bit, covering your mouth, looking up at Choso again, who has a more serious expression.

“Is it fine I called you my girl?” He asks, you feel it, his nerves then, you nod with the biggest smile, and he exhales. “Okay, good, because I want it to be true.”

“Maybe it will be, let’s see this surprise.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his lips softly again. “I can’t wait.”

As you’re sipping on a drink you watch them start their set, you’re right up front and center, watching Choso’s finger strum the guitar like they’re made to do it, he leans close to the mic and starts singing. His voice resonates through the entire room, earning everyone’s avid attention, including of course, yours.

You watch him intently, as he performs songs you’ve known forever, you’re cheering and dancing and he keeps smiling at you, keeps looking at you. You feel so special then, more than you can ever remember feeling, the fear dissipating with every honeyed flick of his fingers on the guitar, at moments you shut your eyes and just let it wash through you.

You head to get another drink as they prep for the next song, when suddenly there’s a hushed quiet when Choso speaks, making you turn back around and stare at him.

“This song was written in a rush, these two had to learn it so fast, they probably wanna kick my ass.” He says, the crowd laughs a bit, you’re headed back through them with your drink, smiling up at Choso curiously. “But it’s dedicated to someone special, someone I’ve known forever, but who has become very special to me.”

He says your name then.

You can hardly remember your name before he spoke it, before he looked at you like that, and he’s pointing at you, earning the crowd parting just a bit for you. You feel the heat of everyone’s gaze, hear their murmurs, but you’re too entranced and in shock to really see anything but violet eyes across from you on the stage.

“I hope you… I know you’ll get it.” He says then, hoping the lights on the stage didn’t make his blush show too much, then he begins playing, as do Megumi and Yuuji, a melodic tune that sounds nothing like you’ve heard from them.

A/N: *disclaimer I am no songwriter, be easy on me lol*

When the world fades to gray and all I can see is you,

When the nights blend to days and all I feel is you.

The smile on your face it dances across all my dreams,

Feelings so raw it’s like I’m bursting at the seams.

The melody is soft, it’s not their usual rock music, it’s a ballad so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes, hearing the hoarseness of Choso’s voice as he pours his heart into every word. You sniffle and take a shaky sip, trembling as everyone watches you both in wonder, but it is just you two, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been?

I’d die to have you in my arms every night,

Oh what I’d do to hold you so tight.

To press kisses along your lips,

To touch you with fingertips.

You’re heating up now, breathless as you continue to watch, utterly enamored, it’s as if you feel these words like a physical touch, overheating your body. You break apart that last barrier of fear, piece by piece, because you can’t just make this up, you can feel it, all of him, in all his sincerity.

In a crowded room all I see is you,

Praying at night for all my dreams to come true.

A girl with a smile that can brighten my heart,

A girl with eyes that tear me apart.

Your eyes are a mess, you’re absolutely sure that there is makeup running down your face, as he melody continues, as he starts pouring his heart to you, as he makes you smile, as he makes you melt. You’re trembling so hard your knees nearly knock, aching to be held by him, for him to never let go. You know you have to take things slow, but at this moment it feels impossible.

Feelings I’ve always known,

Feelings I’ve never shown.

She’s the girl that you write songs for,

She’s the girl that I’ve longed for.

By my side through it all,

Never knew we could fall.

The realization that I have come to,

That there’s nobody but you

At that moment you’re a mess, he ends the song but before he can finish you’ve jumped on the stage, he swings his guitar behind him, and you kiss him, pulling him down to you as everyone claps for him. It’s thunderous, but you don’t hear shit, just your pulse racing, just Choso’s heart thudding, he pulls back with tears in his eyes, breaths coming so quick.

“Choso, I hear you. I feel you.” You whisper, brokenly then, and he kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around you.

“I do mean it, I mean it all angel.” You nod, swiping at your tears and smiling so brightly, he leans close, cupping your face, smiling.

“Finish the set.” You whisper, giggling then as you hop off the stage, everyone is enamored as Choso clears his throat, and they start their usual fare. You head to the bathroom, slamming into Amber then, who scoffs at you.

“You, hmm?” She demands, earning your glare.

“What’s your problem with me? It’s not like you and Choso dated.”

“No? Well he sure had his cock in my mouth.”

You tense now. “And? We weren’t together.”

“Don’t you think…” She leans close. “That if he really wanted you, he’d have been with you this entire time?”

“I…” Your mind whirls with doubt, she smiles all nasty at you.

“No worries, I got Gojo’s number, maybe I’ll take your other guy?”

“Psh, like I care about Gojo. Please do, maybe he’ll quit sending me his dick pics.” You say, smirking at her then, she is furious at you.

“He said you’re just friends, you know.”

“Yeah well, I don’t care what he said. It doesn’t matter. We’re not ‘just friends’ any longer, so I expect you to back the fuck off hmm?” You step right to her, damn near nose to nose, and she backs up just a step.

“We’ll see about all that.” She walks off now, leaving you shaky as you peer into the mirror, you feel sick at thinking of them together, once you pull yourself together somewhat you step out, seeing her all clinging to his arm.

Choso shrugs her off though, glaring, and when he sees you he starts walking your way, filling you with so much relief, it’s like you can breathe again. “Was she a bitch to you?”

“Yeah, she’s really salty.” Choso snorts then, kissing you gently for everyone to see. “I hate that you were with her.”

“I hate you were with him.” He murmurs, leaning close to your ear. “How slow are we taking this?”

“Mmm…” You trail your hands down his strong arms. “We said slow…”

“I could eat you out really slow?” Your eyes shoot up to his, god you haven’t been touched that way in so long, and by him especially, you feel his words shoot between your thighs. “I want to feel you cum so badly, watch your pretty face, your last time cumming was…”

“Thinking of you.” You cut him off, surprising him then. “It was playing with myself, thinking of you.”

“Fuck…” Choso kisses you deeper, pressing you against the wall right by the bathroom, his hands on your waist, pressing in. “I’ll take it slow, whatever it is you want to do, I will.”

“You wanna lick me slow huh?” You’re giggling at the thought. “Lick me where, Choso?”

“You know where, you’re so bratty right now.” You can’t stop your giggles, making him desire you even more. “Don’t I owe you a couple orgasms?”

“Maybe you do. Two I think.”

“So I’ll give you two, and we won’t go further… yet.”

“Where?” He exhales now.

“I want you home… I mean… my home.”

“Staying the night is a lot really quick, this is like our second date?” You tease, he smiles shyly then.

“We can just cuddle, we can do anything. Please just come home… over to my home…”

“You’ve said that twice.” He is a blushing mess, it melts you. “I’ll come over for a night cap then.”

“Yeah!?”

You laugh, nodding. Soon you’re pulling into Choso’s home, and it’s a little nerve wracking. Then you remember the last time you were in his bed, you don’t know how you hold back. Choso’s bending down, slipping off your heels, pecking kisses up your thighs then, earning your gasp as you’re dripping wet in your panties.

“Wanna get more comfy?” He asks softly, you nod shyly then, and soon you’re only wearing one of his soft band tees, coming out to see Choso has made you a drink, he hands it to you as you walk in the kitchen, leaning on the counter then. “You’re so beautiful.” He says, brushing your hair back.

“You’re beautiful, Cho bear.” He shakes his head with a little eye roll.

“You always sucked at taking compliments.”

“I know, ugh.” You sip on the drink in the quiet kitchen then, he bends over you, arms on either side of the counter.

“Do you know how badly I wanna fuck any memory out of your head of him?” His words hit you violently, your pussy throbs around nothing. “I won’t yet, but if you think I don’t you’re insane.”

“I… you…”

“I’ll settle for licking the memories out of your pretty head.” You can’t stop the whine from the back of your throat then, only urging him on, he’s got you lifted on his counter then, shocking you. “Let me take care of you, angel, yeah? Just like that first night, when I first tasted you.”

“Please.” Is all you manage, and Choso’s slipping up your shirt, moaning when he finds you bare, sinking to his knees then, he’s so tall it puts him right at face height with your pussy, which his breath alone makes you jerk. “Cho…”

“So fucking perfect.” He swipes a tongue up your slit, your hands enwrap in his dark silky locks, as he shoves your thighs apart, tongue ring hitting your clit. “Mmm… so yummy, fuck.” He huffs now, black blunt nails pressing into the plush of your thighs as he slips his tongue up again.

“Cho!” You whimper, already pathetic, he watches the arousal pool from your little hole, making him throb, cock so hard he can’t take it. He starts drinking you up, the slurping sounds in the kitchen erotic, as his barbell keeps flicking over and over. “Oh my god…”

You’re already close, it’s so quick but he knows you, he knows your pussy, where you like it, what pressure, and when he’s sucking your clit in his mouth, humming on it and watching you, you fall apart. You can’t hold back at all, cumming so much it’s a mess, all over his face, which he eagerly drinks while you’re yanking his hair so hard it hurts, but it makes him harder.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Choso murmurs when he pulls back, you’re blinking vision back, blinded then, taking several breaths as he leans up, slipping a finger in your slick walls, which clench him. “So tight, fuck… soaking me, huh angel?”

“Mnh…” You can’t manage a word, hearing your greedy pussy sucking his fingers so deep. He’s curling it up, leaning to you, lips brushing yours, you lick yourself right off him, hands shaking as you clutch his shirt. “M-missed it… f-fuck…”

“I missed you, missed feeling you.” Choso’s words, his finger curling sends you back over that edge, your eyes roll back, head falling, he kisses down your throat then, slipping another finger. “Feel that stretch, huh baby?”

“Ngh!” You nod, gasping when he’s back down, using his fingers and his mouth at the same time, bringing you higher and higher, all while violet, dilated eyes watch your every expression. Choso’s pulsing himself then, as your walls flutter around him, as your slick pools down his wrist, so slippery now, all while he drinks you, watching you fall apart.

You’re shaking violently, thighs closing around his head as the orgasm washes over you, as the coil in your tummy releases, your scream is so loud your voice breaks in the middle. You’re sobbing when he’s done, it’s so fucking good, gasping for breath, he places a kiss on your pussy then, groaning at it, and you desperately yank him to you, kissing him.

He moans, deepening the kiss, and he feels it then, the sticky hot cum from eating you out start pouring in his sweats, he panics at it, pulling back, and looking at your cock drunk face, eyes dilated so much he can barely see the iris. Your cunt is drooling, he leans down to lap it up again, whimpering as his cock pushes out more cum, picturing it in you.

“Cho, lemme take care of-”

“Ah, no… I already…”

He leans up now, blushing furiously, and your eyes dart down, seeing it now, soaking wet spot on his sweats, sticky white pooling through the material. “I didn’t touch you?”

“You didn’t have to.” He smiles nervously, exhaling. “I’m sorry-”

“No! No… it means you really love it.” You whisper, biting your lip as he eases you off the counter. Choso cups your face carefully, words of love threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready yet.

“Loving it is an understatement, watching you cum? Your pretty face? The way your body shakes? I can’t explain it. And your taste, how wet you get… I couldn’t take it, it just… happened.” You giggle now, earning his glare. “Are you laughing at me? That cruel, hmm?”

“No, I’m just… it’s so cute!”

“Cute? Ugh.”

“I’m sorry it is sweet, and cute… and flattering.” You kiss him over and over, uncaring as his sticky lap presses against your tummy. “I can clean you up?’

“Oh god, I won’t make that right now. No, I want it for you, tonight.”

“Like the first night?”

“Mhmm.” He kisses your forehead now, exhaling. “Let me clean up and we can cuddle, if you want?”

“I want.”

Soon you’re back somewhere you never thought you’d be again, Choso Kamo’s strong arms, he’s got one wrapped around you as you lay on his chest, trailing little circles mindlessly against his bare skin, over his tattoos. You know the story behind them all, you went to him with most of them, but you can’t help but find them incredibly sexy.

His other hand brushes up and down your spine, making you shiver and hum just a bit, you lean your chin up, looking at him then, feeling the words threatening to spill, but not just yet. “I’m still scared, Cho bear.”

He frowns at that, sighing. “I know, angel. I know.”

“I want to say more, but…”

“You can wait, we have all the time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You kiss him and smile, blissed out from his presence, from the pleasure he brings you.

“How about another date?” You nod eagerly, smiling against his neck as you snuggle up to him.

“I’d love that. I’ll pick it?”

“You’ll pick it.”

“I hope Amber will fuck off by the way?”

“You can beat her up?”

“I could.” He moans at that, yanking you closer.

“Hot.” You both giggle. “I didn’t enjoy it with her. Physical and nothing else? It felt so…”

“Empty.”

“Yeah, empty. But fuck I can’t forget the hurt on your face, and I hate it still, that it made you…”

“Cho…”

“I hate him, I’m sorry. It’s like he knew you were upset and thrived off it.” You wince now, shaking your head.

“He just wanted fun, I doubt it.”

“You’re too sweet sometimes. If I see him? I can’t make promises.”

“You’ll kick his ass for my honor huh?” He chuckles.

“For lots of reasons, starting with high school. Even then, I wish…”

“It’s okay, we have now. Let’s not focus on back then.” He wishes he could change it all though, take away your pain, but he’s so thankful, he nods now, kissing your head and continuing his gentle touches. “This feels so perfect. It’s scary how perfect.”

“It is perfect. Good night, angel.” You yawn, smiling and shutting your eyes, snuggling deeper as you fall into a slumber, the tentative happiness making you sleep quickly, though there’s fear in both your hearts, of what could come between you.

“I… love you. I’m in love with you.” Choso whispers, as he hears you lightly snore, making his heart swell in his chest, hoping one day soon he can tell you.

A/N- I know the last chap was HEAVY with the angst, but they had to go through the worst and a seperation, truly to find each other. The story isn't over, and not done yet, but I hope you're enjoying it even if it got dark for a bit here! I look forward to your comments

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[atlabeth]

(please) spare me indignity

pt 3

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.

a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero

wc: 5k

warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet

You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies. 

You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it. 

You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box. 

There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy. 

He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break. 

“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”

“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”

He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.” 

“What are you, a broken record?”

“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?” 

“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.” 

“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well. 

“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.” 

“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?” 

It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. 

“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.” 

You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open. 

It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good. 

You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home. 

You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere. 

This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.

Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”

“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”

“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”

Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.

“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”

Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”

You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”

“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”

“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.” 

“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away. 

You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would. 

It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again. 

“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out. 

You frown. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!” 

“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”

“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”

“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.” 

He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it. 

“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.” 

“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before. 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”

“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says. 

Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.

“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”

Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—

“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.

“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”

Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it. 

“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”

“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”

“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”

You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest. 

“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.” 

You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back. 

You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.

Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?

You, apparently.  

You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason. 

If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him. 

Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself. 

You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care. 

You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away. 

“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls. 

You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” 

“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly. 

A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person. 

“Can I help at all?”

This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”

Again, more silence.

“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”

You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”

“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”

The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”

“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”

“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”

You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.” 

-

You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off. 

It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are. 

Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?

You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room. 

“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn. 

“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—” 

You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look. 

“I’m so good at so many other things.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?” 

“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”

“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask. 

He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.” 

You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”

“Then open a window.”

“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says. 

“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation. 

Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”

You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize. 

“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.” 

“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.” 

“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you. 

“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one. 

“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.” 

You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it. 

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks. 

“Fine,” you say. 

He frowns. “Really?” 

“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.” 

“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—” 

“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt. 

“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says. 

You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”

“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”

“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?” 

“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—” 

“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.” 

“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.” 

“Am I not allowed to joke?” 

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.” 

“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.” 

He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?” 

“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.” 

“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—” 

“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?” 

“A couple spoonfuls but—” 

“Spoonfuls?”

“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends. 

“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”

“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.” 

He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.” 

Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?” 

“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.” 

“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you. 

“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says. 

“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?” 

Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.” 

You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine. 

“Do they have any leads?” 

“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?” 

“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.” 

“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than�� usual, but you drink it anyway. 

“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.” 

“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.” 

“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.” 

“Then don’t say everything so seriously.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out. 

“Want one?” 

“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.” 

“You should.” 

“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock. 

“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.” 

You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?” 

Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.” 

You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.” 

“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response. 

It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now. 

Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that. 

You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you. 

-

Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much. 

It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever. 

But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him. 

This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.

Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true. 

Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace. 

But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion. 

He always notices your eyes.

Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?” 

“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”

“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.” 

Spencer sits up. “What is it?” 

“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.” 

“Who is it?” he asks. 

“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—” 

“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.” 

“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?” 

“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”

Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”

“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.” 

“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.” 

“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”

“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.” 

“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.” 

“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”

“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”

Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.” 

“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.” 

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. 

“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—” 

“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—” 

“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?” 

“...Some,” Spencer says. 

“Like?” 

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him. 

“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.” 

“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.” 

Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.” 

“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.  

“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says. 

“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.” 

“Spencer—” 

“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?” 

“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”

Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him. 

His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom. 

Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you. 

He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach. 

“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear. 

“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters. 

He hangs up without another word. 

[darnell-la]

FRIENDS & CUFFS

summary: y/n has only been curious about Eddie’s handcuffs after they began dating. she wondered why he never used them on her, and at first, long told her she didn’t know anything about that life. she soon found out that Eddie had a lot to teach her.

warnings: quick friends to lovers storyline, making out, fem receiving oral from male, reader weakens after orgasm, slight innocent reader, drug dealer Eddie (not really mentioned), rough sex, bondage (Eddie’s handcuffs/chains), missionary, doggy, no protection, crying, whining, a lot of male noises, pet names, chocking, etc.

note: we haven’t done an Eddie Munson fan fiction in a while. we still love him, so, there will be more. more stranger things in general. you see what I did there? — nevermind.

———

Steve nearly asked Eddie every day since he graduated, when he was going to make a move on y/n. He hated watching the two drink and get close, yet never make a move.

When people would ask them if they were together, or assume, anyone could tell they the nervousness entered the room.

Not too long ago, y/n and Eddie finally made a move. It seemed so perfect how they both leaned in to feel each other’s lips.

“I think we should stop — You’re drunk, and it’s getting late,” Eddie whispered after y/n stopped fake fighting on top of him. “What if I won’t want to sleep just yet?�� Y/n asked, a bit shy, but the alcohol in her body, helped her gain confidence.

“You’re drinks, princess, and I’m not. I don’t want you to regret this, and mess our friendship up,” Eddie said, really wanting to taste her, but she was afraid of showing what he’s been wanting to do with her.

“A kiss could never ruin our friendship, Eddie,” y/n said, slightly sounding desperate as her eyes could barely stay open. “Wanna do more than just kiss you, y/n,” Eddie admitted.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at what her best friend said. She thought she was the only one who wanted to experiment with him. She felt nasty, but now, she felt loose.

The two both crashed on each other’s lips, making g out rough but passionate. None of them have kissed like this before. They would’ve never mixed their saliva like this with anyone, but because it’s them, they wanted to do much more.

The night ended with y/n halfway passed out, and Eddie’s face resting on y/n’s thigh, dripping juice from y/n’s throbbing heat. “So good for me — I wanna get used to this,”

Now, the two are dating, happier than ever, but y/n has been curious lately. She didn’t pay much attention when they were just friends, but now that they’re dating, she thought about Eddie’s handcuffs.

Most partners would be jealous, but y/n? She was curious. She thought to herself plenty of times how he would use them on her, and why he hadn’t done it yet. They’ve only been sexual for a short time, but if he were kinky like that, why wouldn’t he mention it?

“You good, sweetheart?” Eddie asked after turning to his girlfriend who seemed to be daydreaming. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” y/n said, not knowing if she should bring this up as a conversation so soon her their relationship.

“What is it? What were you thinking about?” The metalhead asked as he leaned back on his bed, taking his eyes off the weed he was pre-rolling for his rich customers who couldn’t do it on their own.

“So, uh — I noticed the handcuffs, and I was curious,” y/n said as she stared at the cuffs that were basically chains, dangling from a hook in his wall. She knew that had to be for something sexual.

“Hey, y/n, look — I swear on my uncle, I’ve never used them in anyone, and never planned to. I just liked the thought of them near me. I’ve even thought about you in them,” Eddie spoke quietly, a bit embarrassed by his truth.

“Oh, wait, I wasn’t jealous or anything. I just was curious on why you didn’t use them on me yet,” y/n said, making Eddie's eyes widen. For the longest, he had thought y/n was innocent, and she was. She was just open-minded when it came to her boyfriend.

“You’re not ready for that, princess,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “Why not?” Y/n asked, a bit offended as she crossed her arms. “Being restrained means you can’t do anything. I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in something like that, knowing you’d wanna get out,”

“What do you mean, want to get out? I can take it,” y/n said, only making the man laugh. “You can’t even take me slow in doggy. What makes you think you can take me deep up front with your pretty hands cuffed?”

Eddie shifted in the bed to cup y/n’s chin, slightly teasing her because they both knew she wasn’t a taker. Especially with his length.

“I-I can take it — It’s not even that bad,” y/n said, making Eddie throw himself back onto his bed with a loud laugh, knowing his uncle wasn’t home to tell him to shut the hell up.

“What!? You’re mean as fuck, you know?” Y/n said as she kept her arms crossed. “Oh, really, baby? I’m sorry, it’s just — You’re a comedian,” Eddie kept laughing, only making y/n roll her eyes.

“C’mon, I’m just pullin’ your tit, baby,” Eddie leaned up to hug y/n, but she moved away. “Babe, don’t start this. I was just kidding,” Eddie tried hugging y/n again, but this time she pushed him away. Of course, not too hard. She was just being dramatic.

“And, that’s why we can’t do what you wanna do. You can’t even handle being picked on a little bit,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s shoulder lightly, slightly feeling bad for what he did.

“Whatever, I’ll be fine,” y/n said, making y/n sigh as he rolled his eyes. “Fine — We can use em, but ion wanna hear none of that cryin', okay?” Eddie jumped off of the bed to get his handcuffs that had dust all over them.

“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit excited, but knowing she wouldn’t be too excited soon. “Ah huh, but only one rule,” Eddie said with a smirk as he untangled the chains. “Yeah?” Y/n innocently asked, not knowing how quick of a turn this would take.

“The only thing stopping me, is our safe word,” before y/n could agree with a smile, Eddie lunged at her, grabbing her quest roughly to cuff them as quick as possible.

“Hey,” y/n said with an eye roll, not knowing he’d get in the mood this fast. “Not a word from you, princess. Let’s see how good you think you can take it,” Eddie said as he placed the chains where they needed to be.

Seeing y/n in this sight, made him harder than he thought he could get. She was always beautiful, but seeing her innocent body slightly retrained, knowing she was actually ready for what was coming, made him want to burst then and there.

“Always thought about tying you up at school. I was a little perv-nerd when it came to you, princess. You always looked and smelled so good — Had to keep myself from throwing you in my van with your hands and legs tied,”

Eddie was in an emotion he couldn’t control. He was either not sure about putting his pretty girl through this, or he was getting too dark to the point he would black out and not remember anything he’d do to her tonight.

“Pretties thighs — Pretties body — Pretties fucking face,” Eddie slightly growled as he gripped y/n’s face. The younger girl whined with huge eyes, feeling her heat get wet.

“I know, baby — Hearts probably rising. Maybe a hint of fear, knowing you can’t get loose — Don’t worry. You know, I’ll take good care of you,”

Eddie quickly began tugging on y/n’s clothes until parts of her showed more than before. She had already had her night dress in, so exposing her bra-covered breast was easy.

“You sure you want this y/n because, fuck — I won’t be able to stop myself,” Eddie warned as he climbed on top of y/n, pulling her dress up as she slightly moved at his cold hands grazing her skin.

“U-Use me — Please,” y/n stuttered, not knowing if she should’ve said it. “What’s the safe word?” Eddie asked in a stern tone. “Red,” y/n said, feeling her heart raise. This was actually happening, and she only had to question him once.

“Good girl,” Eddie grunted as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. “And, that’s the only thing I wanna hear from you tonight,” Eddie said as he pulled y/n’s panties to the side.

“I-I’ll try,” y/n spoke, making Eddie shake his head with a chuckle. “You’re always doing a terrible job. Just means I’ll have to start off rough,” before anything, Eddie doubly pushed through y/n’s walls, causing her to cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Yeah? You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? I told you doggy would be the only position you could truly handle — This is next level,” Eddie couldn’t stop but grin down at the struggles woman.

“S-So much,” y/n whined low, only making Eddie shush her. “Nah uh, what did I say? Didn’t I say to keep that pretty mouth closed? Hm? — You’re the one who wanted this, so accept the journey,”

Eddie grabbed both sides of y/n’s waist before pushing down onto the mattress. Y/n knew he was positioning himself to fuck her rough. He’s never gone too rough, but she asked for it tonight.

“Hush it up, princess — You wanted it,” Eddie continued saying as he pounded down into y/n, going the deepest he could get at the start of his session. After being handcuffed, there would be no room for taking it slow.

“E-Eddie,” y/n cried out as she pulled one of her restraints. At times, she’d forget that she wouldn’t be able to get out. “Wanna break free? Keep trying, princess — Makes this so much hotter,” Eddie growled with a smile, looking down at the way y/n pulled on the chains.

“This is the tightest you’ve ever been — The way you’re soaking around me, only makes me closer,” Eddie felt himself twitch. He didn’t want to cum this quick, but it didn’t matter. He’s always been able to keep going.

“Eddie- Eddie, you — The condoms. You forgot the condoms,” y/n took forever to say what she was trying to say. “Oh, really? Guess that’s your luck, hm?” Eddie leaned in front of y/n’s face.

Deep down, Eddie felt bad for slipping into her without protection. He had completely forgotten, but he didn’t want to get out of character. He had to somehow make sure y/n was 100% with what was going on.

“Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me. Tell me!” Eddie slightly yelled as he snapped his hips, wanting to keep his work going. He could feel the way she fluttered around him. She was so close.

“Too much, Eds — I’m gonna cum,” y/n made the mistake of telling him how close she was. “And, you want me to stop? When you’re so close? C’mon,” Eddie leaned into y/n’s ear so she could hear his groans better.

The room was filled with wet slaps, whining, growling, and a bunch is cuss words from Eddie. He couldn’t keep himself together. This situation was too much for him. He was going to explode.

“E-Eddie, slow down — Please,” y/n tried begging the man, but he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? She hadn’t used the safe word yet. “Want me to slow down?” Eddie asked as he leaned up.

“Yes, yes,” y/n huffed, surprised he actually slowed down. She had thought he got soft, but little did she know, he was just getting a short break. “Want me to be nicer? Take it easy on you?” He asked as he softly placed his hands around her neck.

“Please-“ y/n was cut off by the grip of his hands. “Then you asked the wrong one to chain you up, sweetheart,” Eddie spat before he began slamming into her, making the young lady cry out instantly.

“E-Eds! C-Can’t anymore — I can’t!” Y/n kicked and arched her back, trying to control herself, but her cunt continued to squeeze around Eddie, only assuring him that he was doing exactly what she wanted. Using her.

“That’s it — Keep struggling — You’re going nowhere, and this isn’t even the beginning — I have so many loads I’ve been wanting to empty into you,” Eddie tightened his grip a bit more to hear her struggle for air.

For a second, Eddie thought he might have been going too far tonight. Quickly handcuffing her, saying mean things, pinning her down, and fucking get rougher than he’s ever done.

The only thing that helped him was her words. She never once came close to the word red. She would’ve said it by now, and she would never come to him later and say she was uncomfortable. Y/n wasn’t like that.

That’s how Eddie knew y/n probably enjoyed this more than him. She loved faking that she needed him to stop. He even saw a small pour from her when he slowed down a few minutes ago.

“C-Cumming — Cunming,” y/n’s body stiffened before she shook. “That’s it- That’s it — Fucking take it,” the older man growled as he pounded her, wanting her juice to splash anywhere it could.

“Ian stoppin’ either, baby — Told you to keep that fucking mouth shut, didn’t I?” Eddie asked, but y/n didn’t answer. Her eyes were landing everywhere but on him. She felt out of it already.

“Didn’t I!?” The man shouted as he shook y/n by her neck to catch her attention. “S-Sorry,” tears streamed from her eyes, upset at herself for not taking it like she swore she could.

Right as Eddie went to assure her that she was fine, she spoke, shocking him.

“I-I’ll be good, I promise. Please cum in me. D-Don’t pull out and punish me,” she cried. “I’ll do anything, Eds, just- Please, use me,”

“Jesus’s H. Christ,” Eddie huffed as he pulled out. He quickly turned his girlfriend around, knowing the chains were long enough for her to be comfortable. He took no time to push back in her, roughly, with a warning.

Y/n wanted to speak out loud to thank him, he she kept quiet. She wanted to be good like she promised.

“You’re just a slut, y/n — A dirty fucking slut, and I knew it from how you dressed at parties — You always got drunk before you sat on my lap, facing me- Dragging that pretty pussy across my clothes cock — Swore you even stained my jeans, once,”

Y/n whined, happy that he noticed his much she wanted him before they got together. Yeah, a bit of embarrassment was felt, but the thought of being caught was what made her close to another orgasm.

“You’re in for a ride with me, princess. Especially after I coat these walls,”

[ennabear]

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 4

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 2088

Explaining to them what Talia had said did not make the situation any better. While her information had been helpful it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm that raged in them. If anything caused the winds to roar even stronger. They had to know what happened in that room, and the only one that knew was currently 6 years old. Which meant everyone would just have to wait; something this family was never good at especially when it came to personal matters. 

“Talia doesn’t know what really happened to Danyal. Ra’s could have just lied to her, and made Damian swear to never tell her the truth. We all know how much he idolized that man. It would have been easy for Ra’s to convince him it was for the best.” Tim suggests as he types hurriedly at the computer. 

“If Talia thought for a second that he had done something like that it would have come to light by now.” Bruce counters, “Ra’s would still have needed help getting Danyal out of Nanda Parbat, and one of them would have most definitely let it slip to Talia if he had done that.” 

“Which is why Ra’s would have everyone involved killed before they could have done so.” 

“Tim-”

“Crazier things have happened Bruce; multiple people in this family have come back. Why not Danyal?” Tim looks away from the screen for but a second as he interrupts Bruce before focusing back on the screen. A clear sign that he doesn’t want to continue talking about this. 

Bruce leaves Tim to continue his investigation; a part of him hoping that Tim is right. He could never admit that though. It would just be that much more crushing if proven wrong. So he turns attention to Dick, who is still near the med bay ready to rush in if need be.  

“Chum, why don’t you take a rest? Damian is perfectly fine right now, and you look like you need a break.” 

He knew that the reveal of Danyal’s death would hit Dick partially hard as someone who was very protective of his younger siblings. It wouldn’t matter to him that Danyal died before he even knew of his existence. Bruce expected Dick to be consumed with sadness right now. He wasn’t though he was overcome with fury. 

“A rest Bruce? We all just found out that Damian’s twin is dead; that Ra’s did something to make sure Damian wouldn’t tell anyone. And you want me to take a rest?” Dick eyes burned into him as he spoke. “I’ll take a rest once I know what that psychotic old man did.” 

Bruce knows Dick well enough to read between the lines of what his son is saying. He’s angry at Ra’s, yes, but Dick’s angry at himself too. He’s probably wondering why Damian never felt comfortable enough to mention such a big part of himself to them. 

“And we’ll make sure Damian knows that whatever Ra’s said or did was wrong, but you look exhausted right now. At least let me bring a chair over here for you to sit in.” Bruce calmly states to his eldest son. 

It looks like his words haven’t calmed Dick in the slightest, but before he can speak up again a chair is being pulled up next to Dick by Jason. “Jesus Christ Dick, just sit down already. And that’s me agreeing with B on something so you should know that it's not just the old man saying some b.s.” 

It doesn’t take much for Jason to force Dick to take a seat; one hard shoulder shove and he was collapsing into the chair. After which Jason pulls his own chair up next to him. “I’m gonna need you to put an end to this little pity party in the corner, Dickiebird.” 

“I’m allowed to be upset, Jason. We just found out that our brother is dead, and I should have been able to do something. 

“You think I don’t get that? The only difference between us right now though is that I was there; I could have done something to save the kid if I had known.” 

“Jaylad-” 

“No Bruce, if Dick here wants to blame himself for not doing something then he can blame me too.” Jason gives Dick an annoyed look then turns his head towards Bruce, “You’re free to get out of here old man. Can’t believe I’m the one that’s gotta talk some sense into Dick here.” 

He really doesn’t want to leave this conversation where it’s currently at, but when Dick gives him a nod he knows that he should withdraw. Bruce does make a mental note to ask about how the discussion went later; for now though he’ll do as they want.

So for now he moves on to check on his final son, Duke, before doing so though Bruce stops by his office once more for a moment to just sit and think. Once there it doesn’t take long before he is reaching into the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of whiskey hidden away. When he doesn’t feel it though Bruce knows that Alfred must have taken it. 

Of course Alfred knew he had it; that man knows everything that goes on here. 

It’s for the best that it’s gone anyhow he doesn’t need to be repeating past habits from when he lost Jason. That’s the last thing this family needs right now; not when there are still so many questions that need answers. 

In the end it’s Duke who seeks him out first. A mere 10 minutes goes by where Bruce is sitting in silence before a few light knocks echo against the walls around him. After announcing that the person knocking entrance Duke almost hesitantly approaches him. His habit of always tapping his fingers on whatever he was holding a dead give away for how nervous his son must be feeling right now. 

“Hey B,” Duke started, “everyone seems to be going through it right now huh?”

“It would appear so. What about you chum? How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m … not fine, but I know that that’s ok; I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be somewhat affected by the recent news. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else though if that’s ok.” 

Bruce takes a quick steady breath preparing himself for whatever this conversation may bring. “Of course, what did you want to talk about?”

“About what’s going to happen afterwards; when we find out the truth from Damian. Because- If Danyal is … dead then I think asking Damian about who Danyal was as a person, and setting up a memorial of sorts might help everyone with their grief.” 

“That,” his throat feels tight, “that sounds like a wonderful idea, Duke. I’m sure Damian- everyone would appreciate having a setup for Danyal in the manor.” 

Duke seems satisfied with his answer, and with a small smile makes his way out of the office. Before he leaves though he says one last thing, “I’d also make time to call Cass and Steph to give them an update on this before they get home.” 

After that the silence once more takes control of the room while Bruce thinks about the what if’s and the could have been. 

He’s not sure what the future holds for them now, but Bruce does know that whatever comes they’ll deal with it; together. That means he can’t keep sitting here in sorrow; he can’t fall apart again. 

“It’s time to get to work,” is his last thought as he leaves to make his way back to the cave. 

-

The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur, and not in a good way. Damian spits fire anytime anyone steps into his room. He has only willingly allowed Alfred inside to deliver food to him, and even that was met with cautious anger. 

At the very least Damian isn’t trying to escape; some piece of evidence they showed him must have convinced him that what they were saying was the truth. That conclusion is a double edge sword though as now Damian for sure knows that Danyal is gone. Why else would his brother not be here?

Red Hood and Red Robin are the only ones that go on patrol when the time comes. Dick refuses to leave his station at the med bay door knowing that Damian could be transferring back to himself any time now, and Bruce doesn’t want to leave him by himself if that does happen tonight. The two don’t talk much while alone in the cave, but Dick does allow Bruce to momentarily take his place at the door while he takes a moment to refresh himself. 

While it doesn’t actually happen that night the family is definitely in for a surprise when they check in on Damian the next morning, and find the now normal 14 year old boy asleep on the bed. 

Everyone had to hold Dick back so that he wouldn’t wake him up, and in the end it was Alfred who finally managed to convince him to let Damian rest without interruptions. Unfortunately for the sleeping child though this only gives the rest of the family more time to think about what they’re going to ask, and heaven knows he already has a lot to answer for.

-

Damian feels himself slowly waking; his body feels stiff and slow when he attempts to sit up, but otherwise fine. He knows he must be in the med bay since the last thing he remembers was being on patrol with Nightwing and encountering a blinding light. 

When enough of his strength finally returns to him he cracks his eyes open to see his father and brothers all looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Whatever happened must have been a lot bigger than he had originally thought if they are all here with him.  

Slowly he rubs a hand across his face and groans out to everyone in the room, “What happened?” 

No one says anything for a few beats. In fact they all seem to avoid meeting his eyes entirely. Eventually though his father clears his throat before speaking in a voice far too soft and gentle, “Well chum, you got hit with a spell while on patrol. It- It reverted you back to your 6 year old self.”

Oh. 

Oh no. 

That was probably the worst thing he could have been told right now as Damian thinks back to what he was like at that age; to who had been by his side since birth. There is absolutely no way that his long gone other half wasn’t mentioned, or brought up in however long he was in his younger state. 

“I’m frankly surprised to see you all still standing. I was very dedicated to the league at that age.” He’s not going to admit to anything just in case he is wrong though. Danyal is not someone who Damian is ready to speak about. His twin, his brother, and his biggest regret; he’ll never forgive himself for being so brainwashed by Ra’s that he allowed Danyal’s death that day. That he was prepared to do it himself because the older man said it was for the best. 

“You did manage to break Jason's nose!” Duke lightly chuckles as the mentioned man throws a glare, but otherwise remains silent. Followed by more deafening silence from everyone else. 

Dick is the one that finally brings up the elephant in the room, “Dami … who’s Danyal?”

Why did he have to be right about them knowing? Ready or not it seems the truth about Danyal was coming to light it seems. “Danyal was my twin; the other half- the better half of me. I understand that now.”

His eldest brother gently grabs his hand, and holds it in a firm embrace of comfort. He’ll allow it for now. “And what happened to him?” 

Damian can’t keep his past hidden anymore, and Danyal deserves to have his story told. “When we were 10 Gran- Ra’s took Danyal and I away from our studies early one afternoon. He said that he had a couple lessons of his own that he wanted to teach us personally.” 

For one it was a life lesson, and for the other a death sentence. 

�� 4 years ago …

“Damian, Danyal, come. You two are about to learn what it truly means to be an Al Ghul.”

[astronnova]

trying to figure out how i would wanna draw both of them inbtwn working on shtuff

ramblings under the cut

ok *cracks knuckles* excuse my design ramblings

vlad & danny are such interesting parallels to me esp if u wanna play more into the horror aspect of the show. vlad to me is the kind of horror vampires bring, they're attractive and alluring with large spiked gothic mansions as they suck you dry before you even register what happened.

danny is more like... small town radioactive horror? to me? does that make sense??? the horror of feeling, of knowing something is wrong with one of your classmates in your small, middle of bumfuck nowhere town. you know something is up, but he's still here walking around like always.

unfortunately my style is basically rip off anime LMFAO and i've never been good at communicating horror (falls to my knees and cries) but phantom could be so creepy and eerie. a seemingly teen boy in a hazmat suit, with a gas mask and/or goggles, wandering the streets at night, floating over streetlamps and making them and traffic lights buzz on and off. also electric core danny. he died to electrocution his ass is electric i do not Care what the show says, frost core danny can eat my ass🖕 (sorry to the frost danny likers. i do have an idea for the frost core thou)

my friend gave me the idea of making vlad snake-like too to match danny as a badger, snakes and badgers are natural enemies and all that. plus i didnt realize until after i drew it but vlad's hair and cape give him the silhouette around the head of a cobra! so i gave vlad cobra stripes on his ghost tail

i really like the idea of vlad kind of representing what danny could be. he represents the allure of power and letting go of your humanity i guess. he's petty, selfish, and has definitely murdered a couple people just because he felt like it. i know there are bones in the walls of his manor i just Know it. which i feel could be a fun way to rethink danny's first interaction with plasmius proper, maybe danny figures out who some wisconsin serial killer is with the added bonus of finding bones and rotting clothes in the walls of the basement because. ghost powers. and only another ghost could hide a body that way. ya feel me? its cool. kinda just rambling atp

i played around with giving danny a full face gas mask but i didnt like them too much. the goggles im on the fence about, i wanted them to be the same round goofy goggles maddie and jack wear but it takes away from the potential creep factor i feel... or maybe i just dont know how to draw it creepy (yet). he doesn't need the gas mask as a ghost but it would help hide his face i think. thats one thing, im watching eps with some friends who arent really into the show like i am and they keep asking how tf does no one know its danny and i just have to gently put my hand on their shoulder and tell them its cartoon logic. but for this! i feel like danny's face would be harder to see, like he's usually engaged in combat and when he's not he still has that gas mask and goggles combo, and its not like his hair looks the same like it does in canon.

ok crazy people ramblings OVER

[innieslut]

what about a titfucking with mingi req? 🫦

now this got me wilding ngl. hope you enjoy !! <3

warnings: smut MDNI, titfucking obv, mentions of period, mingi is whiny n desperate, tiny bits of oral & handjob, cum tasting, cumshot. lmk if i forgot anything!!

"Baby please, i'll make it quick." your boyfriend whined for the at least 10th time that day, his hand tugging your arm and a pout glued to his face.

You couldn't explain yourself how Mingi was always the neediest when you were on that time of the month. It almost looked like he was the one ovulating.

"Mingi, i said i can't, you have a hand– two actually. You can do a lot of things." you objected, still curled up in your bed and trying to find a position that could make your cramps less painful.

"But it's not the same!" he plopped down beside you, the bed jumping a little.

He sounded like a little kid. A six feet tall kid with an insanely deep voice. It was already a good thing he wasn't stomping his feet on the floor and crying.

As he spooned you, his arms around your waist and big hands splayed over your aching stomach, you could feel his rock hard boner pressing against the back of your thigh. That shit must hurt.

"Baby, i really wish i could help you, but i'm in too much pain right now." you apologized, managing to turn around to face him. His pupils were dilated enough to tell he was really horny. You kind of felt sorry for him, that pout on his lips only made you want to kiss it off his face.

And that's exactly what you did, you cupped his face and pressed your lips against his, immediately hearing him hum and moan into the kiss, his hands moving to your ass to squeeze it harshly; you giggled at the way his hardness twitched slightly against your thigh.

As you parted, he wasted no time and moved to your jaw, neck, collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and spit until he ended up with his head buried between your breasts, nose pressed firmly against your sternum and lips kissing every inch of exposed skin on your chest.

"Baby.. can i at least see you?" He whispered, his voice muffled as he looked up at you, his eyes big and pleading. You felt his smirk on your skin as you nodded, his hands rushing from your ass to your front, pushing the fabric of your top up to reveal your tits, a deep groan leaving his throat at the sight of your hardened nipples. A low "fuck" escaped from him before he leaned down and began covering one of your tits with kisses, tongue sucking and lapping at your nipple; then he moved to the other, reserving it the same treatment, desperate moans and whimpers leaving his mouth during the whole process.

"Shit babe i'm so hard it hurts." he whined against your skin, his hips twitching uncomfortably. You grabbed his hair and pulled him away from your chest, forcing him to look up at you. As he whined again, you looked down at his crotch, not really surprised by the tent on his pants that were threatening to rip open at some point.

But before he could dive into your tits again, an idea popped to your mind.

"Mingi, baby take those off." you said, your voice breathy as you pressed your knee between his legs teasingly.

While he hastily tugged his sweats off along with his boxers, you completely pulled off your top, tossing it on the side of the bed.

"C'mere." you laid on your back, bringing your hands to your own boobs, squeezing them and gesturing your boyfriend to come straddle your chest. You saw his cock twitch and jump against his abdomen as he realized your intentions, precum leaking from the tip.

He quickly did as you told him, his thighs now on each side of your chest and his rock hard dick pulsating shamelessly in front of your face. You looked up at him, eyes locked with his as you took his lenght in your hand, giving it a few slow pumps and feeling it twitch in your hand, a few droplets of precum running down his shaft and your hand.

"S-shit babe please." he breathed out, his hips bucking slightly forwards. You looked up at him with big doe eyes as you darted your tongue out, reaching for his angry, aching tip to lap at the precum that was dripping from it.

"Y-you're so– fuck, s-so pretty, shit." he groaned, looking down at you with his cheeks painted red and his big hand reaching up to move his hair away from his face.

"You like this, baby?" you asked innocently, pulling off his cock to spit on your hand, bringing it back to stroke him faster and smear your spit all over his lenght, lubing it up.

As he frantically nodded, you pulled your hand away from him and brought both your palms to your tits, kneading them and pushing them together invitingly.

"C'mon babe?" you looked up at him, his fucked out gaze sending waves of arousal straight to your core.

He positioned his cock between your breasts, whimpering as you wrapped them around it, his hips immediately starting to move back and forth, eyes closed shut and lip stuck between his teeth.

"G-goddamn it." he hissed, deep groans and pants coming out his throat as his dick slid in and out the space between your tits fervently.

"Mingi, look at me." you whispered, releasing little high-pitched moans to tease him and help him reach his high faster.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at you, his face flushed and eyes almost watering from the pleasure. His lips parted to say something, but his words were choked down by a deep grunt as you squeezed your tits tighter around his throbbing lenght.

"Y-you're fucking perfect." he moved his hands to your boobs, pulling your hands away from them to replace them with his own, groping the flesh harshly as he kept thrusting his cock between the two soft mounds.

"Are you gonna cum baby?" you cooed, your now free hands moving to his toned thighs, caressing them softly as you enjoyed the view above your head.

"Shit, y-yes i'm gonna– fuck, i'm gonna cum." he whimpered, head falling backwards as his hips bucked wildly, precum smearing all over the skin of your neck and cleavage.

You giggled, tongue slipping out to give soft kitten licks at his tip each time it poked out near your chin.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me." he growled, his thrusts turning erratic as a loud series of whimpers left his throat, turning into soft cries as he finally reached his peak, his hips stilling as string after string of white shooted out and coated the skin of your chest and chin.

You watched as his chest heaved with every breath, his hips moving ever so slightly to remain on his high as long as possible, his head thrown backwards to expose his neck, some hickey marks still printed on his skin after a few days.

You scooped the cum that landed on your chin with your thumb, bringing it to your lips and wrapping them against your digit, tasting the sweet flavor of him with a teasing smirk.

"Naughty girl."

He pulled back, his cock now resting against your stomach as he almost collapsed onto you.

"Fuck." he huffed out, reaching out to press a kiss on your lips. "Thank you, baby."

"You're going to return the favor once i stop bleeding everywhere." you warned, arms wrapping around his neck and melting into his warmth.

"Oh baby i'll do it so good you'll be jealous of my abilities." he teased, his hands sliding down to caress your bare sides and landing on your waist, wrapping around it perfectly. His eyes wandered all over your body, gaze fixating on your perky buds once again.

"You know what i think everytime i get this sight in front of my eyes?" he asked, fingertips playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Yeah?"

"I really must be the fucking luckiest man on earth right now."

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: before the fall

authors note: this is part a requested/suggested short as well as something else. takes place between chapters six and seven of the story.

warnings: none

suggested listening: can't help falling in love by kina grannis (def recommend listening to this one towards the middle of this and onward)

words: 3.5k

**gif belongs to @romanreigns

There’s a lot of thought that goes into it. Too much. Textbook overthinking. But all so necessary. 

She’s never done it before. Always resulted to texting to communicate with him when he’s in there. His office. Door closed. The place he’s been for the past two hours.

But unlike previous times, he hasn’t acknowledged her text. A text she sent almost half an hour ago. Something that wouldn’t be a major issue but not for the fact her message is….time sensitive. 

Meaning, she’s on the 6th hour of the eight hour limit one has with tampons, and no other remaining ones in the box. It’s a stupid, silly thing she keeps mentally berating herself over. How she could forget to pick up another box at her last grocery store visit? But berating herself doesn’t do anything to help the problem. She needs to go out, needs to buy some more. 

However, without Roman responding to her text letting her know if she can leave out or not, it’s hard to do. 

Impossible, even.

Which is why she’s left with only one choice.

A deep breath, a quiet prayer, and a big risk.

Solana has only knocked, quietly, three times when his deep voice barks from the other side, “what!”

Eyes shut, she winces but manages to answer, “it’s—it’s me.”

A noticeable pause followed by a quieter, slightly calmer, “come in.”

Slight hesitation followed by acquiescence. Immediately, Solana readies her apologies for interrupting him, but is interrupted herself when her eyes land on him.

As expected, he’s sitting at his desk, laptop open in front of him, stacks of manilla folders and paperwork surrounding it and him. But, what’s unexpected are the black rimmed glasses that sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose as well as his hair, so black, silky and beautiful, free and hanging, not in the typical neat bun he sports majority of the time.

And Solana can’t bring it in her to look away, too stunned by the almost….normalcy of it all. In this moment, he looks nothing like the man whose name strikes fear among most. He just looks like….a man.

A beautiful man, but a man, nonetheless.

“Yes?”

His deep voice, still surprisingly calm, finally pulls her from her trance. Looking away, her body suddenly much warmer than she recalls, she answers, “I’m—I’m sorry to bother you. You just—you didn’t reply to my text—” Realizing how accusatory that could sound, she moves to damage control. “I just mean—”

“You text me?” A glance at Roman reveals furrowed brows. She watches him grab his phone, eyes surveying the lock screen that most likely holds her unread message. “Shit, I’m sorry. Been busy.”

His apology feels unnecessary and also takes her back. Why should he apologize to her? It doesn’t make any sense.

“Where the hell do you need to go this late at night?”

Despite the wording, the tone of his question is more curious than annoyed. It doesn’t stop her from nervously fiddling with the cotton of her sweatpants. 

“I—I need to go to the store.”

Roman looks at her, brow raised, repeating. “You need to go to the store?” He glances at his computer screen. “Solana, it’s almost midnight. What the hell do you need from the store that can’t wait unt—” He stops, clearly noticing how her eyes shut, her face turned up in pain as she moves her hand over her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, she waits for the sharp pain to, somewhat, subside, before answering. “I just—I don’t feel good.”

His eyes narrow, studying her. “Then you shouldn’t be going out.”

It’s a logical response that doesn’t necessarily apply to this situation. 

Solana does her best to hide the pain and discomfort she’s in, subtly rubbing her stomach. “I—I have to—”

“Do you want me to call the doctor?” His question causes her eyes to widen. She shakes her head, ready to protest when he continues, “you’re obviously sick, so—”

“No, I’m—it’s not…it’s not like that.”

Wrong answer. 

She watches his face shift into something of a scowl, his irritation undeniable as he demands. “Solana, would you just tell me what the hell is wrong with y—”

“I got my period.”

Oh.

Solana immediately regrets it the moment it's thrown out there. She slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes widened in horror. 

Shit.

“I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean—”

Roman clears his throat, also clearly caught off guard by her answer, even if an answer was what he was wanting. “So you need stuff for….that.”

Her cheeks must be a reddish, ruddy mess. “Y–yes.” Desperate and eager to be past this conversation, she bargains, “I won’t be lon—”

“No.”

Silence.

Speaking continues to be a battle that Solana is, so far, not losing but not excelling at either. “I’m—sorry?”

Roman shakes his head, leaning back in the chair. “It’s too late for you to be out the house.”

She doesn’t necessarily disagree, but given the situation, she doesn’t see how she has much of a choice. “I—I’ll have security with m—”

“I’ll go.” 

More silence.

“You?” It’s a whisper, her voice weighed down with shock and some shade of embarrassment. “No, no, you—you can’t—you’re working.”

“I’m always working,” is his easy counter. Standing up, Solana watches him roll his shoulders. “Better me than you. You don’t feel good.” 

And she doesn’t feel any better knowing that she’s most definitely bothering him. “It’s fi—”

“Solana.” Something tells her this is a good point to stop protesting—and pushing—him. “I said I’ll go.” 

His voice reeks of finality, and the fear of upsetting him is enough to silence her. “O–okay.”

He nods, walking over and tasking her. “Just text me what you need.”

Solana also nods, nervously pushing back some of her hair. She’s an embarrassed, flushed mess, offering, “umm, I can send pictures of…of the…the product, if that…if that’s easier.”

He shakes his head, objecting, almost politely. “I don’t need all that.” And now she feels both an inconvenience and a nuisance for unintentionally insinuating he’s incapable of picking up a single item from the store. “Just text it. That’ll be enough.”

—-------

Turns out texting was not, in fact, enough.

It’s not very often, far and few in between, but something that can happen. Is happening as Roman stands in the feminine products aisle confused as all the outdoors. He does his best to match the words from Solana’s text to the words on the boxes, but the shit all looks the fucking same.

“Why is everything fucking pink?” He asks no one but himself, growing more and more annoyed by every second that passes.

For a brief moment, he’s annoyed with Solana. Annoyed that she even has him out there. But, that irritation is shoved away when he remembers the look of pain on her face, the discomfort she was poorly trying to hide. It would be wrong to send her out when she obviously isn’t feeling well.

Not to mention, like he said, a safety thing. With them still being essentially newlyweds, that target on her head is nice and fresh. He won’t take any chances.

Which is why he’s standing in the fucking drugstore at midnight looking like a dumbass. 

Feeling it, too.

Roman’s just about to go against his better judgment and call Solana when irritating humming hits his ears. Looking to his right, he sees a sales associate, a female sales associate approaching him. 

A tiny little redhead, smaller than even Solana, wearing an undeniably flirty smile. Any other time, he’d tell her to fuck off. But, this is one of those rare occasions where Roman is out of his league and could benefit from assistance.

She’s close enough to fall in the hearing distance range, green eyes scanning him up and down. “Can I help you with—”

“I need this,” he cuts her off. Roman shows her his phone that has the texts from Solana pulled up. The texts that must be girl speak or something, because Annie takes his phone and nods to herself with an immediate sense of knowing. “Do ya’ll have it or not?”

Her eyes flicker up, a surprisingly friendly and annoyingly cheerful, “yup” leaving her mouth as she hands him back his phone.

Roman watches in silence as she grabs two boxes off the shelf, boxes he never even fucking looked at, and walks toward him. “Is it her first night?”

Again, a strange experience that he doesn’t know how to handle. “I—I guess. I don’t fucking know. She just needs shit.”

The girl, who Roman realizes can’t be over 21 seems undeterred by his harshness and even his refusal to acknowledge to obvious flirty eyes she was trying to send his way. Good. Let her focus on her fucking job.

“I was just gonna ask if she has a heating pad. They help a ton with cramps—”

“She has those,” he cuts in. Finally. Something he knows. "Cramps."

She nods, asking, “so does she have one already?”

And there goes the fucking knowledge. “I don’t know. I’ll just buy one.” Because even if she has one, it’s probably not new, therefore it might not be as effective. So, it only makes sense he replaces it. and since she's already here, clearly able to offer the assistance he won't outwardly admit he needs, Roman decides to take full advantage of it. “You’re a woman.” Green eyes gives him a strange look before he asks, almost awkwardly. “What—what else does she need?”

—--------

Solana expected Roman to come back with a single box of tampons. 

What she receives, however, is more than just a box of tampons.

That’s included, yes. Included amongst three bags of various items ranging from tampons, pads, chocolates, over the counter pain pills, bubble bath, bath bombs, a heating pad, and more. 

Her jaw is dropped the entire time she’s going through the bags he’s laid out on the kitchen counter for her. 

“This…..” She’s truly at a loss for words. “Roman, this is—”

He shrugs, explaining, “I told the woman there to tell me what you might need.” Solana glances at all the items. Need is certainly a subjective word. Clearly.

“Thank you, but—” She shakes her head. “You didn’t—you didn’t have to spend so much money—I can pay you back.”

“Solana.” His deep voice cuts her off and demands her attention. “I’ve tipped more than what I spent on this. It’s fine. I don’t need your money.”

She nods, still quiet. It’s understandable. Roman Reigns seems like a man who doesn’t need much of anything from anybody, to be honest.

Still, she's not used to people doing things for her.

Especially men.

Roman studies her, asking almost skeptically, “so, are you good now?”

It takes a moment for her to answer. It takes her a second, because she’s overwhelmed. Countless times she’s been in pain before, struggled with horrific cramps and heavy bleeding, and not once did her dad or brother ask about how she was feeling. Did they even care.

They just wanted their dinner fixed.

And now, here’s her husband. Roman Reigns, of all people, leaving out late at night to pick up essentials for her. Beyond that, because the majority of the items he didn’t even need to get.

He didn't need to do it. Any of it, but he did, and she’s immensely grateful. 

Overwhelmed, slightly, too.

“Solana?” 

Breaking from her thoughts, and her emotions, she manages to answer. “Y–yes.” She clears her throat, holding and hugging the box of tampons to her chest. “Th—thank you, Roman.”

There’s something in his eyes as he looks at her. Something she doesn’t recognize but something that makes her feel something just as foreign and uncomfortable. 

Safe.

“You’re welcome, Solana.”

—---------

At nearly 3 o’clock in the morning, Roman expected to leave his office to silence and darkness. And both of those are partially true. There is some element of silence and darkness, but it’s not holistic. It’s not holistic, because Roman walks into the living room to find his wife still awake, sitting on the sofa, watching TV, her puppy sleeping peacefully on the floor next to her. 

That part isn’t surprising. 

All that damn dog does is sleep, eat, and piss/shit.

What a fucking life. 

Solana is smiling, an almost unfamiliar sight, at whatever is on the television when she notices him and sits up. Roman is unsure why he feels some sort of way watching her smile disappear. 

“I’m sorry, is the TV too loud?”

He shakes his head, disliking seeing and hearing the fear in her voice and on her face. “No.” Roman asks the real, relevant question. “Why are you still up?”

He starts to ask if she's still not feeling well, but then he sees the flash in her eyes, the sadness, and something deeper, something he knows all too well, he knows exactly why she's up.

“Couldn’t sleep,” is the quiet answer she settles on. One he’ll accept.

And suddenly, he feels slightly bad. Bad for making her revisit whatever it was that kept her up.

Clearing his throat, he gestures to the TV. “What are you watching?”

He’s pleased to see her smile return. Just a bit. But still, it’s there. “Pretty Little Liars.” His nonverbal response must give away his obliviousness. “You—you’ve never heard of it?”

Unintentionally, he gives her a look that screams, ‘does it look like i’ve heard of it?” and he feels bad all over again, especially seeing how she looks embarrassed almost. 

“What’s it about?” He asks, taking a spot on the opposite side of the same sofa where she sits, mindful of the distance between them, wanting to keep it at a respectful length. For her sake. He’s also relieved to see the embarrassment waning away.

“It’s….it’s kind of hard to explain, but….” Solana sits up, playing with her fingers, trying her best to explain an incredibly complex show. And she does the best she can, gesturing to TV at certain points, somehow pressing play for Roman to see for himself. From there, it ends up being less her explaining and more him watching. With her.

And it’s a newfound experience, sitting with him watching a show she’s certain he wouldn’t dare entertain in any other scenario. But, he is. With her. Without any protest.

It’s definitely strange but also….nice.

“So wait.” Her smile is already forming. He’s, understandably, had questions throughout, questions she’s enjoyed answering. It’ll probably be the first and last time someone is explaining something to Roman Reigns, because she has no doubt he’s used to it being the other way around. “I thought he was her teacher?”

Solana chuckles, answering. “He is.”

“He is?" Roman looks between her and the TV. “So they was both messing with the teacher?” His eyes are widened slightly, clearly taken back by this information. “And he knew one of them was underage?”

Solana nods, biting on her bottom lip. “Yeah.”

He scoffs, his next question more than valid. “Where the hell are the parents on this damn show?”

Solana giggles. Roman being unintentionally funny is an experience she could certainly get used to. “They don’t really find out about everything and start to get involved until later seasons.”

Roman's focus is on her, watching her adjust the blanket covering her body that slightly spills over into his lap. “How many seasons was it?”

She has to think for a second. “Seven, I believe.”

“Seven?” Solana laughs again. Roman’s surprise and borderline horror at just a tip of the iceberg of information is hilarious. “You watched seven seasons of this just to find out who B was?”

“A,” she corrects, hand over her mouth to cover her smile.

“Close enough,” he dismisses. Shaking his head, Roman seems to watch as she uses the remote to navigate to something else as they've reached the end of the episode. “You feeling better?”

His question takes her off guard and reignites that strange warm feeling from earlier. “Y–yes.” A rushed, quiet, “thank you” follows as she shifts on the sofa and finds herself asking, “have—have you ever seen Crazy Rich Asians?”

He gives her a look that’s equally puzzled as it is quietly amused. “Crazy Rich Asians?”

The way he almost punctuates each word makes her laugh quietly. “I know….I know the title is kind of off-putting, but it’s—it’s one of my favorite movies.” And where this comes from, she hasn’t the slightest clue because it makes no sense from any angle, but she’s asking him nonetheless. “Do—do you want to watch it with me?”

Solana immediately regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth for a lot of reasons. The main one being he’s already sat here and watched almost 45 minutes of a show he clearly has no interest in. Not to mention that it’s the middle of the night, and he has to be exhausted. 

The man has early mornings and late nights almost every day. She truly doesn’t know just when he sleeps.

And her asking him to stay up with her to watch a damn rom-com is just—

“Sure.”

Solana is certain she’s staring, certain she looks just as caught off guard as she feels. “Wh–what?” She sits up a little, noticing that Dulce continues to sleep away peacefully. Despite minimal anxiety, her smile is small, revealing Solana's inherent satisfaction at his answer. “R–really?”

And if Roman is at all annoyed or feeling upset at being asked to stay up later than he already is, he does a damn good job at hiding it. His big shoulders lift for a shrug. “I’m not really tired anyway.”

A part of her wonders if he’s just saying that to save face. The other part of her feels a sense of excitement, regardless.

“Okay….”

Solana doesn’t waste any time in starting said movie, and as much as she enjoys the film, it’s a bit more difficult than she anticipated to focus on the TV with the man sitting so close besides her. And not even for the reasons of attraction, maybe to some extent, sure, but she’s more engaged and almost moved by the small smiles, quiet chuckles, and even light laughter at certain scenes.

She studies him, unable to look away. Not wanting to. Because this man, almost relaxed, is such a stark contrast from who she’s used to.

Who the world is used to. 

He just seems so at ease, and selfishly, she soaks and absorbs it all in. Appreciates it. Wants it to last for as long as it can. 

Especially because it’s certainly an anomaly. Come morning, even after the conclusion of the movie, the same, stoic, unreadable Roman Reigns will return.

Because at the core, that is who he is. 

It’s truly only when one of Solana’s favorite cinematic moments occurs that she’s fully invested in the movie her husband has been more invested in than she has. 

“I love this part,” she sighs in awe. Roman turns to see his wife is now sitting up on the sofa, head tilted slightly, eyes glued to the TV.

He doesn’t allow himself to think about how much closer she suddenly is to him in this new position. 

He instead also follows her line of vision, watching as the wedding scene finally arrives, the tone almost completely shifting as music plays.

Wise men say

Only fools, only fools rush in

Oh, but I, but I, I can't help falling in love with you

Roman recognizes the song as an old Elvis tune, covered by the singer in the movie whose soft voice, soothing almost, reminds him of the woman next to him. The woman whose side profile is suddenly something he can’t seem to turn or look away from. A sight that’s significantly more exquisite than he realized. Solana has always been beautiful to him, objectively and subjectively. 

But in this space, where she’s doing nothing more than existing, he finds that beauty immensely captivating, alluring, hypnotizing almost. 

Shall I stay?

Would it be, would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you

Solana has seen this movie at least a dozen times. This scene in particular even more than that, and each time never fails to bring unshed tears to her eyes. The layout of the wedding, the bewitching voice of the singer, the love practically felt between Rachel and Nick, it’s all been so overwhelming in the best way.

But, there’s something different about this viewing. Something that feels a lot more personal than she’s ever experienced. 

A lot more real. 

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things, you know, are meant to be

Emotion betrays her, Solana unable to keep her comment to herself. She shares, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s so beautiful….”

Roman continues to focus on her, on this woman who both confuses and intrigues him in ways he can’t understand. A woman whose kindness so starkly contrasts all of the dark edges that make him who he is. And he too is captivated. 

Just not by the scene.

His eyes never leave her, his focus never so keenly devoted to a sole person than in this very moment. 

“O oe….”

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can"t help falling in love with you

—----------

Translations:

"O oe...." = "You are...."

[anastasia12]

lower your inhibitions

lower your inhibitions ; simon “ghost” riley.

You love Simon, you really do.

How could you not? How could you not fall for him? He’s the one who rescued you from a fate worse than death, the one who washes your body for you even though the both of you know that you’re fully capable of showering alone (he loves you so much, he’s constantly craving to touch you in any way he can), the one who took apart one of his honorary medals for his services and melted it down so it could be manipulated and turned into the band on your engagement ring.

(Did you know that the medal he used is the one he got from the mission where you two first met, the fateful mission where he both saved and changed your whole entire life?)

And you know that Simon would do absolutely anything for you. He whispers it to you in the dead of night, holding you so close to his chest like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He lets you be the one who removes his mask, and if he can do something so intimately vulnerable, then you suppose you can do this for him.

This is giving into one of his latest fantasies, one that he’s been hinting at for quite some time now.

You know that his line of work is difficult at best and life-threatening all the time. You know that he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders — it’s not just his weaponry and equipment that weighs him down, but the fact that so many lives are resting in his hands. You do your best to relieve him of any stress when he gets home: a warm meal waiting for him, fresh clothes set out for him to change into, long nights where you spend all your time and energy determined to give him the reward he deserves for being a hero.

He mentions it in passing, usually when you’re so far gone in the throes of pleasure that you don’t even consciously acknowledge his little comments. Sneaky bastard; he’s been making sure it stays ingrained in your subconscious, though.

Baby, I could spend forever here. You’re certain that’s what he was groaning out the last time you had spread your legs for him and allowed him to eagerly lap at your pussy. You’re not entirely too sure, though — the only thing you can clearly remember through the foggy haze of intense passion was the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his mouth and bringing you to climax on his tongue at least twice that night.

You can only imagine what he must have planned for you tonight.

You’re sure that Simon has an insane amount of stamina as a result of his work. The only thing keeping you, his little soon-to-be housewife, still alive from all of these little entanglements is the fact that you love him enough to do anything he asks of you. So when he tells you that the only thing that’ll help him take his mind off of his latest assignment is to have you sitting on his face, you oblige.

According to him, this is a foolproof plan because only an idiot would be thinking about something else when he’s got the prettiest pussy in the world on top of him.

You could feel your face heating up at his vulgar compliment, but you’re not entirely innocent. The heat was building up towards the lower half of your body after that comment, too.

And now you find yourself nervously straddling your fiance, looking into his eyes.

“You know where you need to be, pretty girl,” His voice is already thick with arousal, and you recognize that hungry glint in his eyes. You pray to anyone out there who’s listening to pretty please give you the strength to survive tonight.

“B-but Simon—” You’re whispering, even though this house is the only residence in the area. (Thank God for that; if the two of you had neighbors, they surely would have filed a noise complaint.)

“Yes, my love?” You can recognize the teasing tone in his voice, and you can hear the smirk he must be wearing on his face.

“How am I supposed to… You know, get on your face and let you do what you want when your mask is still on?”

His infamous balaclava with the skull design etched onto the fabric seems to taunt you. It doesn’t scare you, especially since you’re well aware of who the man behind the mask truly is, but you can’t quite figure out why he hasn’t taken it off yet.

“Oh. I didn’t tell you yet?” He has to be smiling underneath the mask because your reaction to his next words is enough to have him chuckling.

“I’m not eating you out ‘til you’re so wet for me that I can feel you dripping through the mask.”

You immediately freeze up, wondering if he truly means what he just said.

(It’s Simon; of course, he meant every word of it.)

“Sweetheart, I thought you were going to be a good girl for me tonight.” The disapproval he douses his words with isn’t real — you know he’s just trying to tease you because it’s what he loves to do. Still, you find yourself nodding your head and slowly but surely making your way up his resting body before you find yourself hovering uncertainly above his face.

You let out an adorable little yelp of surprise as he suddenly grips the back of your thighs and forces you down on his mask-covered face. For a man his size, the strength isn’t surprising, but it’s his stealth and dexterity that always catches you off guard.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice sounds muffled now due to the pressure being applied to his mouth, and you can feel the slight movements of his mouth despite the thick fabric of his balaclava acting as a barrier between you and him. His eyes are already deepening with desire, and you swallow hard, knowing that it’ll please him if you truly give it your all. You’ve known him for what feels like forever, and you’re engaged to the man. There’s no more room for shyness to take root in this relationship.

It’s time for you to lower your inhibitions.

Your first movements are a bit uncertain, but his groan of appreciation acts as reassurance. You move back and forth slowly, carefully grinding against the mask, and occasionally, your clit will brush against the covered tip of his nose, only adding to your pleasure and allowing you to give into your depravity without worry.

“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well for me.” You can barely make out the words he’s saying, but you give him a shaky smile as you continue to grind against him, your hands finding purchase on the pillow he’s resting his head on. You grip it, trying to hold yourself steady as you continue to buck against him, your arousal practically leaking out of you, a constant stream of juices that is soaking through the fabric, leaving a distinct wet stain on the front of it.

Simon grins at a mission successfully accomplished. Not only can he feel your arousal through the mask, but you’re so soaked for him that he’s certain he can taste you already, too.

One strong hand grips your waist, pausing your jerky movements, and you look down, blinking and trying to ground yourself into reality. You watch as he uses his other hand to tear off the balaclava, tossing it somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.

His chin and lips are already shining just the slightest — just how wet for him are you? He gives you a cheeky grin, and you’re still so close to him that when he speaks, his lips brush against your slick folds.

“Don’t stop now, darling. You promised you’d sit on my face.”

He’s so close to helping you get rid of the ache in between your legs, and you find yourself lowering yourself fully, your soft thighs encasing his head, and your soaking cunt landing right on his mouth. You’re already leaking all the way down to his chin, and his groans of pleasure only serve to make you even wetter.

He can’t speak right now; not when he’s too occupied with the meal you’ve so generously decided to grace him with. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of him lapping up everything you’re spilling out.

His tongue slides through your entrance with ease, and you moan in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you start to instinctually buck against his face, practically riding his tongue.

He’s sucking up your arousal, eager to please you but also insanely happy at the position he’s finally in. This is exactly what he needed: pure, unadulterated access to your pussy. Your thighs are surrounding him, and he uses both hands to squeeze harshly at your ass. The slight pain only makes you squeal and jerk up just the slightest, but he growls before forcing you back down on his face, right where you belong.

The ministrations of his tongue are entirely too much. The noises the two of you are making sounds as if the two of you are filming a porno, and you know you can’t last much longer.

Using both of your hands, your fingers curl into the thick locks of his hair, tugging just enough to him groan against your pussy, and you mewl out his name as you cum all over his face.

Your body feels like jelly; this isn’t the first time that Simon has fucked you boneless before, but this orgasm was intense. You think you can still feel some aftershocks of it, and you moan out weakly as you struggle to remain in your seated position on his face.

He’s still lapping everything up, his tongue still exploring every centimeter of yourself you have to offer him. After that climax, your poor pussy is feeling too sensitive, and every time he slightly moves his head, his nose continues to bump against your clit. You’re ultra-aware of every movement of his, extra susceptible to every flick of his tongue and the pleasure is only painfully heightened. You’re too weak to fight him off and while giving in will surely leave you unable to leave the bed all day tomorrow, you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.

“Si-mon.” You whine out his name, but it comes out garbled and broken. Your mind doesn’t know how to react to the constant pleasure he’s inflicting on you and your sensitive little cunt. Your body, though, is eager to receive more of what he has to offer. It’s evident in the way your hole starts to clench around nothing every time he teasingly withdraws his tongue to force you to beg him for more. Even though you feel like you’re unable to move, you still find enough strength left in you to grind against him, rubbing your pussy and spreading your slick all over his face before you cum once again, this one leaving you all the more disorientated.

His visage is a sight to behold: cheeks are flushed red, eyes wild and dark with desire, the lower half of his face stained with your cum and arousal. You should be embarrassed at what a mess you’ve made of your fiance, but he only licks his lips. His eyes almost roll back as he realizes the taste of you will forever be on his tastebuds.

“Taste so good, love.” He gasps out. His hair is messy from the way you’ve shamelessly tugged at his locks. “I need more. You gonna give it to me?”

You’re nodding, but he doesn’t even wait for your affirmation before forcing you down onto his mouth once again.

He wasn’t lying when he made the claim that he could live in between your legs forever. After tonight, you know you’re never going to deny him the chance to prove it, though.

comment if you want your @ in heree

[grimmsbride]

▒ ❀ ̭͡⠀ ❛ SOME ENCOURAGEMENT. NAM-GYU / PLAYER 124

nam-gyu attempts to recruit beloved, timid reader into thanos’s world. all it takes is a little encouragement.

𖥔 ࣪˖ TAGS, nam-gyu is a little pushy (but everything is consensual between him and reader) | unconsensual voyuerism (again everyone is asleep but i don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable) | ooc characters (first time writing for nam-gyu) | minor degradation & praise (+humiliation(?)) | use of the words slut, good girl, etc. | fingering | minor dacryphilia | just a silly little imagine | nam-gyu is lowkey manipulative | reader is a freak with a thing for fingers/hands | etc.

𖥔 ࣪˖ NOTES, writing smut on company time is actually hilarious, idk why i got this idea during work. but anywho — i hope you enjoy, i tried my hand at his character. as always please ignore any grammar mistakes or typos.

Imagine Nam-Gyu attempting to recruit someone without the advice of his beloved purple-haired leader. Surprising, right? Despite his own issues with inferiority; the ex-club worker just seems to follow behind Thanos like a hungry puppy desperate for a bone— or drugs, for that matter. But no, just this once, Nam-Gyu takes the lead. The numbers are growing closer and even more scarce, fear lacing people’s minds and causing them to hit that dreaded X button. Thanos’s World’s dream is to continue the games to pay off their debts, right?— so it only made sense for Nam-Gyu to turn an X over to the O side.

He couldn’t just pick anyone. Someone far too strong-willed would definitely tell him no, and someone far too weak would just be a curse rather than a blessing.

Who to choose.. Who to choose..

Soon enough the man’s eyes are locking on to you— a contestant he has seen around, yet hasn’t heard much from. Not only were you easy on the eyes but you just seemed like the perfect person to shape into a worthy teammate.

Within minutes he’s approaching you, an easy-going smile in place as your name falls from his lips. Nam-Gyu had heard it said before by someone close to you, another random that he hadn’t bother to think about.

“Yes..?” Your words are slow, lips pursing as you take in the man before you. You were beyond nervous; this was the lackey of that purple-haired lunatic after all. Watching the two fight on the very first day was enough to tell you to avoid them at all costs. Yet here you were, a few feet away from one of them, under his gaze that trailed over you like a pretty piece of jewelry behind a display case.

You couldn’t help but bring your hands closer to yourself, teeth dragging across your cheek nervously.

From your head to your toes, Nam-Gyu’s eyes soon landed on that big red patch residing just under your bosom. With a breathy chuckle he reached over, allowing a single finger to press and trace the X.

“You wanna get out of the games that bad, huh? You voted X twice already.”

Your eyes flicked down to his hand, before traveling back to his face. “Yeah well..” You dragged slowly, watching that harsh gaze return to your features.

“I—I want to get rid of my debts.. but putting my life on the line for it just seems..” You hoped you got your words across perfectly, even without continuing your sentence. Sure, it was hard being hounded for your debts, but death looming over your head just didn’t seem worth it.

Still, Nam-Gyu only shook his head at you, a sigh full of pity escaping his lips.

“Well, that’s where you’re messing up.” Nam-Gyu hummed, stepping just a bit closer, finger still tracing that damned patch. Your attention kept flicking between his face and finger, wondering why exactly warmth was pooling throughout your entire body.

“Worrying too much about dying is what’s gonna get you killed, not anything else.”

Your eyebrows knitted close, a look of confusion plastered across your face. Worrying seemed like the right way to keep yourself alive.. right? Not worrying just seemed, well— stupid. Not that you would say that to his face, obviously.

“I have to disagree..”

Just barely did you hear the sound of the man sucking his teeth, watching the way his face turned to the side, clearly searching for his next few words. You debated on walking away from this conversation, it was clear what his objective was. And whether ordered by Thanos or not, you didn’t really want to know— nor figure out.

Yet for some reason you were practically glued to the spot, blinking up at him and waiting oh, so patiently for his next spiel. And as you watched his face turn back to you, your breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay then.. worry all you want, but you wouldn’t you want someone to look out for you?” Nam-Gyu’s other hand was reaching to your patch at this point, using both thumbs to trace it. “Being on this side, there’s no unity.. it’s every person for themself.”

The two of you locked eyes, a sickeningly sweet smile crossing his face.

“Come with us, and we’ll look after you. I’ll personally see to it too.”

Slowly did your teeth sink into your bottom lip, struggling to maintain the eye contact that he seemed so keen on keeping. The only thing you could hear was your racing heart and the gentle sounds of his thumbs sliding across that red patch. His words were.. tempting. You wondered if he rehearsed what to say, like a video game with multiple endings; did he have it all figured out before he even walked over? Was he so prepared to convert you, using every rejection you had as some silly obstacles the man easily hobbled over?

So caught up in your thoughts, you hardly realized Nam-Gyu had gotten even closer until his breath fanned across your ear in a simple;

I’ll let you think it over, let’s talk again later..

When you thought of later, you initially believed in thirty mins or so. Maybe this time he would bring over his beloved leader to really get the point across. But no, later seemed to be during lights out; when you all should be sleeping, tucked away in the rare bliss these murderous games brought.

And the only talking that was happening was the soft words Nam-Gyu continued to whisper into your ear and the even softer moans of passion that slipped from your swollen lips.

See, Nam-Gyu wasn’t an idiot despite what Thanos seems to think. Quickly he caught on to two things whilst speaking to you.

The first being, you were quite cute when nervous. And two, you just loved looking at his hands.

So what better way to really stretch his point across but using his beloved fingers to stretch you open just how he liked?

“Should have done this from the start, look how cooperative you’re being..” The smile on Nam-Gyu’s face was permanent at this point, the corner of his mouth twitching with each pitiful moan you released. His rings were tossed lazily to the side, his bare fingers now pushing into your sloppy cunt so perfectly. Longer then your own, they pushed and prodded; opening you up and rubbing against your soaked walls. With each breath you were clenching, causing the smile on his face to only grow deeper.

“Scared of dying but not of some stranger finger-fucking you, huh? What a joke.”

You wanted to tell him off, how he was so mean and so wrong. But you couldn’t, not with how your mind was getting complete lost from his movements. Your teeth were grinding into your bottom lip, a metallic taste filling your mouth as time progressed. Deep moans thundered from your throat, muffled by your harsh biting. You couldn’t imagine having your little recruitment interrupted by some poor contestant just trying to get some rest.

But with the way Nam-Gyu was practically ruining you, it didn’t seem he cared much either way. He was so hellbent on coaxing you, his lips right against your ear as that damned thumb came and circled your swollen bud.

“I told you I’d look after you right, where’s my thank you?”

Your eyes widened the moment his free hand rose, pushing at your cheeks and basically forcing your lips to part. The sound you let out was a strangled mix of a moan and gasp, quickly clasping your own hand against your mouth.

Nam-Gyu chuckled on his breath, thrusting a third finger into your wet cunt as he spoke; “What? You scared of the other contestants realizing how much of a slut you are? Shouldn’t worry too much; this messy cunt is making enough noise for you.”

Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, so fucking mean he was— yet you couldn’t help but enjoy the attention. His digits were curling inside, brushing across that special spot that caused you to shake. Your thighs were clenching harshly around his arm, rushed breaths escaping as your chest rose and fell.

“Th—thank you.. fuck— please…!” You whimpered as softly as you possibly could, glossy eyes staring up at the man. You felt accomplished the moment he drew closer, feeling the cold metal of his chain brush against your heated skin before a gentle kiss was pressed right against your cheek.

“What a good girl.. You wanna come, hm?” The hand was lowering to your throat, fingers simply wrapping around it yet not squeezing. Nam-Gyu watched in pure enjoyment at the way your head tossed back and forth in a rushed nod; how needy you were for him. What a palpable little thing, is what he thought.

“I can make that happen, you just gotta do something for me.”

More words, whispered, tempting; drifting right into your ear and hitting the same pleasurable spots right between your legs. Speaking of, you felt your peak drawing closer; a tight band resting deep in your tummy— ready to burst.

You knew what he wanted, you weren’t an idiot nor were you too fucked out to forget. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you an orgasm wasn’t worth pressing that cursed button.

Yet, for now, you weren’t thinking with your brain, but with your pussy instead.

“P—please let me join! I’ll press the button— I promise!” Another whisper-yell escaped you, desperation clinging to every word as they fled those pretty lips.

With that final confirmation Nam-Gyu was quickening the pace of his fingers, eating up the way your body convulsed, a lost look invading your eyes as you came undone. Your essence trickled down his fingers all the way to his wrist, a sticky residue that he would make sure you clean up later.

For now.. his hand rose from your throat to instead cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb right under your eye so tenderly— so sweetly.

“I knew you could do it.. just needed some encouragement, right?”

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 9 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇note: so…I kinda maybe…lost the order these go on…ahem…can someone tell me if soemtbjng doesn’t make sense because it probably doesn’t belong there

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus was unable to sleep. He was staring up at his ceiling, creating stories in his head. He vividly imagined himself with a gleaming sword. A siren in front of him trying to sing him to his doom. Telemachus would put beeswax in his ears so the siren’s song wouldn’t be audible. He would cut off her tail. Telemachus froze. The prince couldn’t bring himself to put the siren through any more pain.

“Throw her body in the water. If the siren is trying to harm you, don’t let her. You’d be reckless.” A familiar voice says. Telemachus looked to his left and sees Athena standing in the corner of his room. As usual, Athena was standing tall, keeping her calm and stoic expression. It was still strange that the goddess could hear his thoughts.

“But I’ve already cut off her tail..there’s no need to drown her.” Telemachus sighed.

“You still have a lot to learn, little wolf.” The goddess nodded, exhaling as she walked around the prince’s room. While Telemachus laid on the bed, his fingers idly played with the bandages that Y/N had wrapped around his arm. He could still feel her precise touch as she healed him. For some reason, he was unable to forget the moment that had a firm hold on his memory.

“You’re thinking of something young prince.” Athena glanced at Telemachus. He turned his head to speak with the goddess.

“Y/N..” Telemachus breathed, “She bandaged me. It was the most emotion she’s ever shown me. I should be furious with her. She broke my ship..my father’s ship.” The boy sat up with a wince, while looking down at his hands.

“And what did you do about it?”

“Nothing..I did nothing.”

“Hurt her back.”

Telemachus then looked up at Athena, an unreadable expression on his face. He’d been through the idea so much, but he never thought of executing it.

“What?” He mumbled.

“Find something she cares about and hurt her back. An eye for an eye.” Athena kept her stoic expression as she glanced at the prince. It was almost a foreign concept to her that he had never carried through with such a simple solution.

“Eye for an eye..” Telemachus whispered. The prince got out of his bed and brushed his hand along his wrinkled tunic. With a new stride to his walk, he moved over to the trapdoor that led to Y/N’s room.

Athena then grabbed Telemachus’s shoulder to get his attention. The boy turned to her to see an almost proud look.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

Telemachus nodded in agreement before grabbing a torch off of his bedroom wall and opening the trapdoor. This route was so unfamiliar than the route he took to get to his mother’s room. He sighed in determination and walked through the passage. The air was damp and not at all comforting. Cobwebs began hitting him and the face and he had to hold back the urge to yell in disgust. He glanced ahead and saw that the passage would get narrower. The boy sighed in pure annoyance and disgust.

Telemachus went onto his knees for the next part of his journey. He felt something crawling up his leg and looked down to see an eight legged creature. He groaned at the uninvited spider and shooed it off of him. Keeping the torch away from his face, he crawled through the claustrophobic space. He exhaled in relief when he saw the end of the passageway was nearing.

The young prince reached the end of the tunnel, and put his hands against the trapdoor. He applied a light pressure and managed to quietly unlatch it. Still on his knees, he crawled out and put his hand on the wall to help himself up. Telemachus couldn’t help but glance around. The room was barely decorated. The only thing on the wall was a tapestry of Orpheus and Eurydice. The exact moment when he looks back at Eurydice. The boy had studied the myth endlessly. His gaze then fell on a figure in the bed.

Y/N.

The girl was laid on her stomach, the cover laid over her hips. Her back and strophic on almost full display through the thin nightgown she was wearing. Her wavy hair was let down and draped across her pillow. And lastly, her face. She looked completely relaxed. A state Telemachus had never seen her in. He found himself unable to stop staring. The boy closed his eyes and quietly exhaled.

I need to focus

He walked over to a desk against the window of her room. It was completely dark in Ithaca. All that could be heard were the waves against the shore. She didn’t own much. Something that stood out to the prince were the vases. All different colors and shapes. She must’ve been a vase collector. He slowly reached out to touch one of them, handpicking which one he would destroy. Suddenly, he was pulled back. Telemachus groaned as his back hit the hard floor underneath him. When he looked up, Y/N was on top of him. Her chest heaving against his own.

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?” Her voice barked out, a terrifying sharpness in her voice. Her grip was firm on the front of Telemachus’s tunic.

“Y/N!” Telemachus yelled, grabbing her wrists in an attempt to get her off of him. He then glanced up her arms and saw an array of scars. Some looked fresher than others. Still tints of pink along them. The others were healed and could barely be seen through the darkness of the room. Telemachus then remembered that he had seen scars on her back while she was sleeping, but he didn’t notice them at first. He glanced back up at Y/N, a look of confusion in his eyes.

Before he could ask her what had happened, she was already off of him, staggering backwards. She grabbed a blanket off of the bed and wrapped it around herself.

“What in the gods are you doing here Telemachus?” Y/n’s voice lacked the authoritative tone it usually had. As he sat up and met her eyes, he saw something he had never seen before. Vulnerability. It only made the prince wonder more about what had happened.

“I was…” Telemachus breathed out. He couldn’t even bring himself to say what he was going to do. He glanced to his side and saw Athena standing there, an expectant look on her face.

“Grab the vase. She’s down. This is your chance to strike.” The goddess ordered. Telemachus couldn’t get to his feet. He just sat there. He glanced at the vases then his gaze fell to y/n.

“No…” He whispered, so quietly that no one could hear it but himself. Y/N was gripping her blanket like a lifeline. As if it was the only thing keeping her from drowning in an unknown ocean. The princes only thought was,

How could I hurt you?

Telemachus completely ignored the goddess’ advice and inched himself towards y/n. He didn’t care how much either of them would hate him for it.

“What happened, y/n..tell me” The prince whispers, reaching his hand out for Y/N. At his words, he watched tears pool in her eyes and her lip slightly tremor before she swatted his hand away.

“Go away, Telemachus.” She snapped, standing up and turning away from him, discarding the blanket on the bed. It was no use. Telemachus had seen everything. He could see her hand go to her eyes, most likely wiping away her tears. Telemachus wasn’t sure what switch had been turned on in him. He stood up, using the edge of her bed. The boy inches towards her, putting his hand on her shoulder, feeling a few of the rough scars beneath his finger.

“I said go away.” The girl yelled, stepping forward and away once again. Without thinking Telemachus went behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling the girl firmly against him.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I’m not leaving. You don’t have to tell me why you’re upset…just let me do this.”

The girl felt almost rigid in his arms. That didn’t stop Telemachus from letting go. To his surprise, she turned around, burying her face against his chest.

“5 minutes..then I want you to get the hell out.” She murmured.

A surprised huff fell from Telemachus’s lips, “5 minutes and get the hell out..got it.” Holding her felt surreal. Something he never thought he would experience in his lifetime. In a weird way it felt..right. Like she was supposed to fit against him like this. Her arms were snaked against his waist and he heard the occasional sniffle from her. Slowly, Telemachus moved his hand to her hair, feeling each curl between his fingers. She was still warm from being in her bed and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Telemachus got bolder and moved his other hand to her back, gently moving his fingers up and down the girl’s spine. He was incredibly shocked that he hadn’t gotten pushed off her yet. His final move was laying his head on top of hers, no space in between them. He breathed her in. Lavender. She smelled like lavender. It took everything in the prince to not carry her back to her bed and lay down next to her. To hold her, to find out everything about her, and why she acted the way she did.

Then he remembered who he was holding.

The girl who broke his ship. The girl who tormented him. The girl whose brother wanted the crown and his mother. But for some unknown reason. He couldn’t pull away. He then felt her hands against his chest, pushing him away.

“5 minutes is up, get the hell out.” The girl nodded towards the door.

Telemachus held his hands up, “5 minutes right.” They both glanced at each other. Something unspoken between them. Most likely awkwardness, but possibly a mutual attraction. Telemachus wanted to ask her what happened or if she was ok, but he refrained. He moved towards the trapdoor, getting on his knees, and unlatching it. He swung the door open before crawling inside and shutting it behind him. Telemachus couldn’t help but wonder what had happened back there and why he secretly enjoyed it. But also why Y/n hadn’t pushed him away.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Reckless and sentimental,” Athena yelled, looking down at Telemachus, “that’s what you are.”

Telemachus only sighed, glancing down at the bandage on his arm, trying to drown out the goddess’ words. He was pacing around his room, avoiding her gaze.

“She was down. And vulnerable. There was no need to hurt her further.” Telemachus spat back. He couldn’t get y/n out of his mind. Quiet and trembling. He could never hurt her. Even though he so desperately wanted his revenge.

“You’re just like him.” Athena mumbled, almost inaudible, but the boy had heard it.

“What?” Telemachus turned around to face her for clarification.

“Nothing,” Athena snapped, exhaling, “That’s not a war tactic. You asked for my help to be a warrior. Not to play your Aphrodite.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t have done the same?” Telemachus yelled, “You would have striked her while she was crying and looking down upon herself with shame?”

The goddess raised her brows in perplexion. Athena couldn’t help but be reminded of Odysseus. Standing on his ship, spreading his new ideals of open arms and mercy. Her arguing her position with him. The pure, raw emotion in the king’s eyes.

“At least I know what I'm fighting for

while you're fighting to be known”

The young prince wasn’t Odysseus but he might as well be. If it weren’t for the situation at hand, she would find it amusing how similar the boy is to his father even though they had never met.

“As I’ve said before…those are not my ideals. It is not my job to care.” Athena curtly said. Before Telemachus could spit out another disagreement, the goddess was already gone.

୨୧┇for the people confused on how she has scars, it was from her past. Bc her and Antinous used to be on the STREETS💜

[sharkie06]

Chat i think that we can all collectively agree that daryl would break down infront of you if he trusts you alot.. right? Right.

A cool fic idea would be the reader going on a run and failing to return on the day she left, but the rest of the group coming back the day of? And daryl gets real pissed, but when you return, he breaks down

Thank you! (Luv ur work) 🫶❤️🎀

A/N: AAAAAAAA HII, yes i definitely agree! i love that idea sm, and thank YOU 🫶🩵:) (also idk if responding to the ask tags you so i’ll tag just in case @livviewritess )

༄ Where is She?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!Y/N

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of violence, lots of gore, lots of cursing, Y/N has she/her pronouns, the lineup, mentions of deaths (Glenn & Abraham), gun use, motorcycle crash

Background info: It’s only been a short while since the line up with Negan, not long after Daryl finally was returned to Alexandria, and the community is still taking the loss pretty badly. He was still recovering from his time at Negan’s compound, so when it was time for the next supply run, Y/N offered to go on his bike and let Daryl stay home and rest.

A/N pt. 2: Most of the beginning of this will be written in Daryl’s POV; I apologize if he’s a bit ooc at times, I haven’t written for him much yet but hope to get better over time :)

Daryl had been restless all day waiting for the group to return from the run they had gone on that morning. It was the first run Y/N had gone on since he returned home from the compound, and being apart after being together every moment possible left them both deeply uneasy. If Daryl hadn’t been bedridden by Y/N’s own orders, he would’ve been pacing the damn gate waiting for a sign, anything to hint at her return. Sitting in their shared bed, Daryl finds his thoughts drifting off, remembering the night of the lineup vividly once again.

Daryl Dixon always thought he wasn’t scared of anything, that nothing could possibly rattle him now that the world had gone to hell. In fact, the only thing he ever worried about anymore was Y/N. So when Abraham’s body hit the ground, Y/N sitting stock still and shaking on her knees beside their friend, Daryl could only hear his blood rushing in his ears, his hands itching with the urge to go pull her into his arms. He wanted to take her away from the gruesome scene, take her back home where it was safe and let her find shelter in his embrace.

The whole group had watched in terror as Negan beat Glenn to death, the scene enough to make bile rise in Y/N’s throat, fighting hard not to puke and draw Negan’s attention to herself. The man could see her struggling and had started to mock her for it, bringing up his bloodied bat to her face, close enough that she could smell the parts of her friends that clung to the wood and wire. Daryl had instinctively reacted, sitting up and leaning back like he was about to try and stand but freezing when one of Negan’s men pressed the barrel of a gun to the back of his skull.

Negan had turned to Daryl then, the archer staring him down as the man had spoken to him. When Negan ended up taking Daryl, it was like a switch flipped in Y/N. She was suddenly kicking and screaming like her life depended on it, roaring with anger and thrashing wildly, trying to free herself of her restraints. Another of Negan’s saviors had simply come forward and knocked her unconscious with the butt of a gun to her temple, and when she awoke Negan, his men, and Daryl were nowhere to be found. Michonne had nearly had to drag her back to the RV, and Y/N hadn’t been allowed to go out and look for Daryl.

It had felt like a millennia had passed by the time Daryl had seen her again, nearly knocking his tired body to the ground just inside the gates of Alexandria as he returned home, Y/N almost just as much of a mess as he was, save for the black eye and other injuries sustained during his time at the compound. Now, Daryl couldn’t help but fear what could happen to her while he was stuck at home, unable to be there to protect her and watch her back. It’s not that he didn’t trust their people, but he felt he did a better job at it than anyone else.

Daryl’s torn from his thoughts as he hears the gates open, and suddenly he’s thinking damn with her orders, ‘m goin’ out there, standing up and limping his way down the stairs of their home, heading out onto the porch and gripping the railing as he heads down the front steps. His steps speed up and his anxiety grows as he doesn’t see her amongst the group that has returned from the run. Making his way through the group until he comes face-to-face with the now closed gate, Daryl can hear the now-familiar deafening sound of his heartbeat, thumping loudly in his ears, in his head as he turns and looks across the group once again.

He limps forward, grabbing Eugene by the collar of that damned jacket he always wore. That’s right; Eugene had gone out on the run with Y/N and the others, having wanted to start learning how to be more useful and Y/N had told the man she would help him learn to shoot on their run. Now, Daryl shakes him so hard by his collar that his own injured leg threatens to give out, Rick and Michonne running up to grab Daryl by the arms, being gentle but still trying to free Eugene from his grasp. “Where is she? I said where is she, asshole?!” Daryl’s visibly upset, tears pricking his eyes as he still reaches for Eugene, grunting and growling and trying to squirm out of Rick’s hold even as his friend is now partially supporting him, Daryl’s knee having buckled from the sudden weight he was putting on it.

Rick does his best to console Daryl, the archer eventually regaining his footing and shoving his friend, his found brother, off of him, stumbling back to Y/N’s and his house. Rick eventually comes into the house as well to see Daryl trying to load his crossbow and readying an overnight pack, grumbling softly to himself. “What are you doin’?” Rick asks his friend softly, sighing quietly when Daryl grunts and loads a bolt onto his crossbow. “What do ya think, genius? ‘m gonna go get my woman. Ain’t gonna let them leave ‘er out there like that. Ain’t no way in hell.” Daryl grumbles, standing up once again and trying to shove past his friend, who in turn steps back and in front of Daryl more directly.

The pair go back and forth for a while, Daryl getting increasingly frustrated and even starting to yell after a while. Eventually Michonne makes her way into the house and the three of them determine that Daryl will stay home and Michonne and Rick will go out and look for Y/N. They leave before the sun sets, with Daryl sitting and waiting on the front steps of his house, cleaning his crossbow while he keeps an eye on the gate and keeps an ear out for the sound of his bike or the sound of Rick and Michonne’s truck.

It’s nearly 6 in the morning the next day when Daryl’s woken up off his porch by the sound of the truck, then the gate opening. He rises quickly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he carefully stands up, limping over to the truck with his crossbow slung across his back. He doesn’t notice that instead of two people in the truck cab there’s three, not until he sees his motorcycle in the truck bed, looking pretty banged up with the arm of a walker stuck in the front wheel. He doesn’t even have it in him to question what the hell happened when he sees Michonne and Rick carefully but quickly help Y/N out of the truck cab, Daryl’s attention immediately caught by the blood dripping down her head and her side, covering almost her whole arm on that side.

She’s rushed to the infirmary, where she gets stitched up and wiped down mostly. Michonne helps Daryl bring her back to their house and she gives Y/N a bath while Daryl does his best to clean up their bedroom. It’s nearly noon when Y/N finally wakes up, in fresh clothing and laying on her uninjured side in her’s and Daryl’s bed. Daryl himself is perched in a chair right up alongside the bed, leaning forward in a way that’s definitely gonna hurt his back when he gets up after sitting that way for so long, one of his hands holding her’s with their fingers interlinked while his other hand has his fingers on her wrist, a constant reminder to himself of her pulse, of the fact that her heart is still beating.

Y/N blinks hazily a few times, coughing quietly as she tries to sit up before laying back down right away, her coughing waking Daryl up quickly, like he had barely been asleep. “Daryl?” Her voice sounds rough, like she had been yelling so much that she was starting to temporarily lose it, though Daryl could tell by the tear streaks that were breaking through the dirt on her face when she was brought in that she had simply been crying a lot. He’s there already but her voice is like an on-switch for him and he’s sitting up quickly, wincing slightly at the pain in his back before her rises to sit beside her on the bed, leaning down and gently cupping the back of her neck.

He tilts her head forward slightly and presses the gentlest of kisses against the bandaged gash along her temple, his thumb caressing the side of her neck softly as he lightly presses his forehead to hers. “‘m here, sugar. Right here. Ain’t never lettin’ ya outta my sight again, I swear.” He knows he’s probably laying it on a little thick, but he’d damn near had a heart attack when she was brought in all bloody and bruised. “The hell happened out there, doll?” Daryl questions her softly, gently releasing her head and sitting up to give her proper space to breathe while also not moving from his spot by her side.

Y/N lets out a pained chuckle, wincing slightly as she clutches her side where she had bruised a rib. “‘s pretty funny actually, I uh.. I told the group to go ahead without me; I was just down the road a few miles with the bike, and wanted to stop at the one convenience store down there. When we went out and passed through there yesterday, I saw this damn gun behind the counter that I really wanted, but told myself I’d pick it up on the way home. Told them to go ahead cause I figured I could also loot it real quick then head home, but when I broke into the back it was full of maybe… 8, 10 walkers? Anyway, I panicked a bit, and when I got back out on the bike I took off too fast. Hit a walker when I was going maybe 30 miles an hour, the damn thing exploded all over me and the bike. His arm got stuck in the wheel and broke the chain, and the damn bike sent me flying I don’t even know how far. Felt like I broke my leg, so I got up long enough to climb up onto the store roof and waited, figured they’d send someone out for me. Then I heard the truck last night and used my flare gun, Michonne and Rick found me—” Y/N pauses in her story as she sees the deep annoyance in Daryl’s expression.

“Yer tellin’ me, you damn near died because you wanted to loot a place by yerself?!” His voice lilts off into almost a yell at the end of his question, his face growing a bit flushed with his frustration. He almost starts going on a tangent about “How could you be so reckless—” until he sees how her eyes grow misty, her bottom lip wobbling slightly in that tell-tale sign that he had gotten a bit too rough with her in the state that she was in. Daryl pauses and takes a deep, shaky breath, reaching in to gently sit her up and pull her forward into him, tucking her face into the crook of his neck and cradling her softly, like he was scared she would break.

“Look, ‘m sorry, doll. Just… ya jus’ had me so worried, thought I lost ya—” Daryl starts, and though Y/N can’t see his face on the account of her own being shoved into his neck, she can hear how his breath hitches at the end, can feel the tense shaking in his torso as he lets out another shaky breath. Y/N leans back carefully, bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks softly. He’s crying, something she hadn’t seen since long before this all started, and just like she had done back then, Y/N leans in and kisses away his tears, his hands wrapping gently around her wrists where she cups his face but he doesn’t pull her away, just holding her there softly as she comforts him. His eyes close as she leans in and he leans into her when she pulls him in.

Soft sobs wrack his body as he cries against her, finding comfort in her warmth and she lets him hide in her shoulder and then her chest, her fingers trailing loosely through the hair at the back of his head and her heartbeat drumming quietly against his ear. Slowly, it begins to rain outside and she continues to just hold him, knowing that at times like this something as simple as being there and holding him is enough for Daryl.

[staytinyville]

WHAT'S THIS?

↣ Summary: You were always different from those of Christmas Town. Something was missing inside of you that you needed to find. Have you possibly gone daffy?

↣ Characters/Pairing: Ragdoll!Hongjoong x Elf!Reader

↣ Genre: Smut, fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: Nightmare Before Christmas!AU, Monster!Au, Jacob’s ladder deal with penis, 

↣ Word Count:

↣ Warnings: Soft sex, Christmas/Halloween Fluff, love at first sight

↣ A/N: To the ever great @catkyunie for Secret Santa. I had another thing planned but ultimately decided on this because I watched the movie four times in a weekend. I love the soundtrack so much man. Also I’ve had the idea to make a Nightmare Before Christmas AU for a while now but it wasn’t this story exactly. I love the movie so much so I hope it comes out as well I hope it did. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cromernet , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

Never go near the Holiday Trees. 

For as long as one could remember, the elves were told that. It was centuries ago when the rule was brought up after a very troublesome Halloween town citizen decided they wanted to take over Christmas. 

Things have changed–the children have changed. There was no better holiday compared to the rest. Each person had their favorite, and so the ones in charge didn’t bother with the other holidays for fear of being less than happy. 

But that didn’t mean those who were in charge of the holidays still couldn’t feel as though there was something missing within themselves. 

You could hear the soft crunch of your reindeer companion following behind you, bleating small sounds as it found berries and grass to eat. It happily continued to munch while you frowned deeply at the prospect of walking through a foot of snow. 

It bothered you. You could see how all the other elves were easily able to navigate themselves through the snow on light feet–not sinking down to end up buried in it. It was your fault, you figured. Not having the simple little magic everyone else had. 

You couldn’t make toys. Couldn’t bring joy to the children who you had to watch over every once in a while. You couldn’t even make cookies that somehow every elf knew how to make from scratch. You were the odd ball in the town full of ridiculously happy citizens that mocked you every chance they could. 

Well, maybe they didn’t mock you because that would be very naughty of them. But you did feel bad everytime they tried to teach you something and you just couldn’t get it. There was something missing. And year after year, it hurt to see Christmas come and go without your help. 

Your ears twitch as you trudge through the thick snow trying to find more pine cones to fill your family tree with. You were wrapped in double scarves, your ears and nose covered. The snow was thinning out the further in you went and by then your legs were so tired you were half tempted to fall over into the snow to rest for a moment. 

You sniffled, nose starting to run but you used your sleeve to brush it away. By the time you realized it, the snow had cleared completely all of a sudden which caused you to trip over your own feet and fall flat onto the forest floor. 

“Oof.” You groaned, shuffling out of the snowy area and onto the dirt. 

Pine needles stuck to your face as you shuffled yourself to stand up, coming to sit on your knees and look around the clearing. 

You felt a shiver go through your body as you stared up at the tree that had a large pumpkin door on its trunk. You glanced around for a moment more, seeing the rest of the holiday doors waiting for someone to open them. You finally got up onto your legs, the jingle bells on your feet and hat making a sound each time you moved. 

You knew exactly where you were and found it odd that you were even here. The location of these trees are only known to the Claus’s, so to be able to reach this place was something you couldn’t fathom. 

Each door was different from the last. Some brighter than others while some just seemed so plain. The pumpkin with the large grin stared back at you as you reached it last. It’s smile was dark, almost a pitch black that had you losing yourself within it. Each jagged edge looked like it would prick you if you dared to touch it. 

And yet you still found yourself reaching for the door knob nose, muscles straining just a bit as the knob seemed stuck for a moment. But it finally moved after a moment, startling you with how easy it was to pull the door open.

It was even darker inside, a gust of wind blowing through causing red and orange leaves to fall out. Your nose crinkled at the smell of black licorice. But you still stuck your head further in, trying to make out something inside the abyss of the tree. 

Suddenly you could hear a humming. A sound that went together to form some kind of lullaby that almost put you to sleep. You strained your ears to hear more of it, trying to make out the words. 

“Sometimes you gotta move forward. Just take it step by step. And then you’ll notice you’ve found your place…”

Just a bit more, you told yourself, moving closer. 

Just a bit more ended up being too much though. Before you realized it, your little jingle bells tinkled one last time before everything turned black. 

It was a whirlwind of bright lights and empty space that you felt like you were floating in. Gravity did not exist as you fell. You wanted to grab onto something but the only thing it seemed like you could do was scream into the void. 

It was a quick journey. Not even half a minute as you felt a force suddenly drag you towards a direction. Your back hit against a surface before it vanished and you fell through. You let out a loud gasp, bright colors filling your vision as you were thrown into a much warmer place.

Before you tumbled onto the floor, you quickly caught sight of the sharp edges of a christmas tree shape on the trunk of a tree. You rolled over, grunting as you landed on your back, your legs falling down quickly and your body becoming exhausted. 

You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. It was a bit but you slowly allowed yourself to feel the ground around you trying to make sure you were in fact on some kind of surface. 

Turning your head from side to side, you noticed you were back in the clearing of holiday trees. Only this time there was no Halloween one. Raising slowly to sit up, you took notice of how there was no snow covering the ground or pine trees that were losing needles. 

Instead the trees were barren almost, the leaves left on the branches ranging from a yellow to brown color. Most of them seemed to be on the floor, waiting to be picked up. 

There was a sudden squirming feeling under your legs, like an animal was trying to get out from under you. You frowned, scooting back and pulling your knees up to grab at whatever it was. It wasn’t furry, nor was it that large. It wiggled around, your eyebrows pinching together as you felt multiple limbs. 

“What’s this?” You asked yourself, pulling the object out from under you. 

When you finally grasped it fully, your eyes went wide as it suddenly grabbed ahold of your hand. Pulling it out, the thing hanging from your hand was another hand. However it was severed at the wrist. 

“Oh my Kringle!” You screamed, throwing the hand away from you. 

You gasped louder as it began to wiggle and suddenly upright itself. It scurried away behind a tree, catching your attention as something seemed to bend down to grab it. Whatever it was shuffled back from view, their foot being the last to be hidden. 

Tilting your head in confusion you realized it was a person who was standing on the other side. The voice you heard earlier was suddenly starting to make sense, so you gradually became more curious. 

“I know you’re there.” You called out, crawling closer to the tree. 

You sighed when they didn’t move nor say anything. You thought to yourself for a moment, thinking back to how the person singing felt so sad. 

“The song you were singing–are you okay?”

“Of course I am.” They quickly spoke up. 

Your eyebrows shot up, smiling to yourself that you got them to speak. “It didn’t sound like you were.” You continued. “Are you going to come out?”

“You are not from Halloween Town.” He told you. 

“I’m from Christmas Town.” You shook your head, the bells jingling from the top of your hat. “A bit much isn’t it?” You giggled, wiggling your feet with the same bells. 

He scoffed playfully. “Just a bit.” 

“You have an amazing voice. I wish to hear more of it, please.” You crawled closer to the tree. “Will you please come out?” 

You could hear them shuffling around in contemplation. It took a moment but slowly they walked out one foot after the other. It was something out of a fairytale seeing him for the first time. 

You began to hum for some reason, hearing the ring of a jingle bell go off in your ear. He was deliberate in the way he walked. He was careful, but still it looked graceful. The first thing that caught your attention though, were the stitches that stretched across his mouth. 

“You’re stitches–do they hurt?” You asked quietly, coming to a stand. 

You walked closer to him, hands twitching at your side as you wanted to reach up and touch him. 

“No.” He spoke up, watching you intently. 

You raised your hands, moving them closer to his face. But you caught yourself, stopping as you realized it would be rude to just touch him. 

“May I?’ You asked quietly, waiting for his reply. 

He looked down at your raised hands, your curious eyes on his scars. “Sure.”

You lightly skimmed your fingers across his mouth. The tips of your longer fingers touched at his lips while they moved across the bumpy patches. You were scared of hurting him, so you didn’t try pressing them harder into his skin when your curiosity peaked at how the skin parted and created a hole. You wondered if they would open up, your hand passing through his cheek. 

When you looked up at his eyes, you found him staring at something near the side of your head. Your large pointed ears twitched at his stare, causing him to flinch just the tiniest bits. His hands shook at his side, almost coming up. 

“You can go ahead.” You told him, moving your head to the side to allow him the space to touch your ears. 

He tentatively reached up, fingers grazing the shell of your ear just as yours touched his stitches. He started at the bottom before smoothly gliding upwards. It wasn’t until they began to touch the tips of your ears that you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your lips pressed together. He suddenly pulled back from you, your own hand falling from his face. 

“Sorry.” He quickly said, waiting for your reply. 

“It’s okay.” You beamed up at him. “They’re just sensitive.”

“Hongjoong!”

Both of you suddenly turned around, hearing the call. 

The man’s eyes went wide, suddenly grabbing you and pushing you back towards the Christmas Tree. 

“You have to go.”

“What? Why?” You questioned, looking around trying to find whoever had called.

“You are not supposed to be here. We are not supposed to go to other holidays.”

He continued, opening the door and about to shove you through until you stopped yourself. 

“But–your singing.” You quietly said. “I really loved it.”

He paused, lips pressing together. His eyes twinkled almost, as if he could he would be blushing from your compliment. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He told you softly. 

“Joong!” 

You suddenly turned around, ready to be pushed back into the tree but you had something to ask him first. 

“You have to go now.”

“Will I see you again?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. 

He seemed stunned for a moment, looking back to where the sound of rustling leaves were heard. 

“Come tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

Your lips pulled up into a smile, feeling something warm fill your chest. Just as someone was about to enter the clearing, you felt the suction of the tree pulling you back in. 

“Goodbye.” You heard one last moment before falling. 

**

“Oh he was amazing, Mrs Claus!” You sighed, picking up the tinsel the old lady wanted to move. “He was so devastatingly pretty. Nothing could compare to him. And-And his singing! So hauntingly beautiful. It was alluring in such a way that left me breathless.”

“It sounds like you're in love, dear.” The jolly ole’ woman hummed, shaking around as she sprinkled something on some cookies. 

“You really think so?” You smiled bashfully, looking down at the gingerbread man you were decorating. 

You looked down at the cookie, eyebrows pulling up at the smirk the cookie seemed to be sporting. It have little triangles at it’s lips, the red icing popping out. Black icing covered it’s forehead in a line, stitches being show as though it had been put together. 

Looking up you noticed Mrs. Claus turning around with another batch, quickly shoving the sweet into your mouth to prevent her from seeing it. While you were too worried someone would catch on to your secret, you hadn’t even noticed that the cookie was created to perfection.

You could hear the other elves giggling at your antics.  

“Tell me, do you feel a warmth that comes from inside?” The old lady continued grinning. 

You swallowed before contemplating her question. Before long you realized she had been right, a soft smile falling on your lips as you thought about Hongjoong. 

“I've never felt so good before. This empty place inside of me is filling up.” You spoke quietly. 

“That's a good thing dear. No more worries.”

You decorated another batch of cookies, too preoccupied to even notice that you were creating some kinds of monsters along the men. But you were in the clouds, thinking about the man who you had come across. The elves only looked at you oddly, but didn’t make a comment because they could see that you were not about to answer. 

You continued on your way, out of the kitchen area. Just as you opened the door though, you flinched at the four men who were standing on the other side with wide grins on their faces. Well a wide grin on one of their faces. 

“Why are you just standing there?” You asked them. 

“We know where you went.” Wooyoung the first to always say something told you.  

You pushed them aside, continuing on your journey back to your house. “Where did I go?”

“You went through the tree.” Jongho spoke up. 

You tensed up but tried not to show it. 

“The Halloween tree.” Yeosang prattled. 

“Is he a monster?” Yunho asked. 

“Who?” You played dumb. 

“The man you're in love with.” Wooyoung giggled. 

“I'm not in love.” You shook your head, opening the door to the kitchen shop and walking out into the cold air. 

“We beg to differ. What is he?” Yunho asked. 

“He's nothing.” You spoke up without thought. 

“So there is someone.”

“No.” You stopped turning to look at them. “Drop it. There is no one.”

“You told Mrs Claus there was, though.” Yeosang said. 

“Were you eavesdropping?” You glared at all of them.

“We always do.” Jongho shrugged. “How do you think we knew Holly was secretly seeing Tinsel?”

You glared at the boys, feeling ticked with their wide grins. 

“I'm going home.” You declared, turning around. “Do not follow me!”

“Well when they say it like that I want to follow them.”

Yeosang kept his eyes on your retreating figure. More so the way you were walking through the snow without any trouble at all. They were all so used to you sinking in the snow and complaining about the cold that he was quick to notice you did none of those the moment they were outside. 

“Did you notice they didn’t sink into the snow?” Yeosang spoke up softly, watching as your feet seemed lightweight in the snow. 

“You think they’re finally getting into the Christmas spirit?” Yunho asked his friend. 

They thought about how you were talking about someone who seemed to have caught your attention. There was only one way to describe the way you had told Mrs. Claus about the person. The adjectives you had used were not ones they were used to and it was clear from where this person had come from. 

But whoever it was that had caught your attention, they started something that you were in desperate need of. 

“It’s some kind of spirit.”

**

It was a few days later when the four elves were finally able to follow you into the woods. They were pushing and shoving each other as each time they would lift a foot, their bells would jingle. But you were still none the wiser as you had something occupying your mind. 

They stilled for a moment behind a tree, almost falling onto the ground that seemed to be devoid of snow. Peaking over the other, they tried their best to see where you were going. And when you pulled open a door in one of the trees they were quick to understand. 

“They aren’t actually going there are they?” Yunho asked with wide eyes. 

You climbed the small steps, peering into the hallow tree. 

“I think they are.” Wooyoung gasped. 

Hearing their loud mouths, you turned around finding their bodies heading your way in a rushed manner. Your eyes went wide and you held your hands in front of you to keep them from pushing.

“(Y/N)!” Yeosang yelled, shoving into you. 

The world went black and you found yourself falling into the empty space you had grown used to these past few days. You could hear the boys screams and yells trying to find something to grab onto. 

With the impact on your back, you grunted when all of a sudden gravity made the four boys fall on you full force. You skid along the floor for a moment, groaning like you had the first time you came through the door. 

Once you got your baring together, you began to slap a hand on one of the boys. 

“What are you idiots doing!?” You pushed them off.

“Don’t hurt us!” Jongho raised his arms. 

“It seems we weren’t the only ones who had the idea to follow.”

You looked up, coming across four faces all looking down at you. 

“Hongjoong.” You quickly said. 

“Get off me!” You tried to shove Wooyoung off, the man shivering as he looked up at the other Halloween citizens. 

“They are monsters!” He sobbed, hiding in your stomach. 

“Who?” The one with horns asked with wide puppy looking eyes. 

“I know you are not talking about us, Darling.” Another grinned, his kanine teeth sharp as he looked at Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung whimpered again, hugging you closer once more. 

“Leave him alone, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, moving to help you up. 

“Is this your sweet?” You heard the giggle of one. 

He began playing the bell on your hat, smiling to himself as his large fluffy ears flickered from every sound they made. 

“Such a jolly little thing.” The other with sharp teeth spoke quietly, looking at you with a charming grin. 

“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong warned, pulling you closer to him. 

“You know I love knew friends, Joongie.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Especially the adorable ones.”

He spoke directly to Yeosang and Yunho who stood off huddled behind Jongho. The two blushed at the man’s words, flustered from his compliment. 

“Welcome all of you to Halloween.” The one with dog ears spoke up. “We hope you enjoy your time here.”

He had moved to pick up Wooyoung, but the moment the man took a look at the werewolf’s face he began to blush a bright red. Wooyoung squeaked, looking up from the floor before scrambling into Jongho’s hold. 

You began to giggle, feeling Hongjoong’s hand squeeze yours tightly. There was something about the way Hongjoong’s friends were so friendly that made you more then excited to meet them all. 

“My name is San.” The one with wolf ears spoke up, a smile on his face as he waited eagerly for your friends to say something. 

“I am Seonghwa.” The vampire bowed at his waist, hand along his torso.

“Mingi.” The boy with horns and wide eyes said, looking hopeful at each of your friends. 

The elves all watched them curious eyes but they didn’t say anything else.

“Don’t be rude, boys.” You immediatly said, catching their attention. 

They bowed at their waists, introducing themselves to Hongjoong’s friends. You smiled greatfully at the way they all started talking as though they had known each other forever. 

Seonghwa made another suggestive comment that had left Wooyoung flustered and hiding behind Jongho.

“Are they all like that?” You giggled. 

“Only Seonghwa.” Hongjoong snorted. “Are your friends always like that?”

“Only Wooyoung.”

**

There was a breeze that swept through the trees bringing down leaves that seemed to be never ending. You reached out for one that had fallen in front of you, twirling it around from the stem. 

“Hongjoong.” You quietly spoke out loud, turning to the man who was laying on his back with his eyes closed. 

He hummed, lips barely being pulled into a smile as he was enjoying his time. You leaned closer, laying on your stomach. You played with the leaf, dragging it along his nose. He scrunched up, trying to hold in his sneeze. 

“What is it, Jingle?” He asked you after swatting you away. 

You tilted your head to the side, glancing down his body. 

“Are you able to–you know–” You wiggled your hand down towards his thighs, gesturing to what’s between his legs. 

Hongjoong’s eyes quickly shot open, a frown on his face as he realized what you were gesturing to. He looked at you with an odd face, eyebrows raised to the sky as his stitches pulled his cheeks. 

“Why are you asking about it?” He asked you.

“The others talked about those kinds of things and you didn’t say anything.” You sat up, the bell on your hat ringing. “You just stayed quiet and listened to them go on and on.”

He sat up and shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to.” He explained. “I’m not the kind of person who would do those kinds of things. Besides, I’m too busy to think about any of it.”

You thought about all the times that you were not able to hang out with Hongjoong. Especially when Halloween starts showing up. But you figured it was the same way with everyone else. Even the boys were sometimes too busy to hang out with you when Christmas was coming around. 

With the fact that you were not able to enjoy christmas the way everyone else was, things were different for you. You had all the time in the world to enjoy life, while others were busy. You could only imagine how much of a pain it was for Hongjoong being the head of Halloween. 

“You said you were the Pumpkin King, right?” You asked. 

He nodded his head, tilting it to the side as he wondered where you were going. 

You turned back around, scooting back so that you could fall into his arms. He happily held them open for you, allowing you to lay you back against his chest. His nosed at your cheek, feeling the warmth from your always red skin. 

“”It must be really hard to find someone.” You told him. 

He paused, stitches being pulled as a small smile fell onto his lips. “I don’t think it’s really all that hard.” He said. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes sparkling as they took in the soft way he looked at you. “So you do have someone?”

You were about to move out of his arms, causing him to giggle as he crushed you back between his arms. His head fell to your neck, giving you simple kisses that had you laughing. 

“It took years but I finally found someone who means more to me than being Pumpkin King.”

You turned around swiftly, legs moving to either side of his thighs. “More than being Pumpkin king?” You shook your head. “That’s one of the greatest honors a Halloween Town citizen can have. It’s like the Santa of Halloween.”

He laughed, smiling. He brought his forehead down to touch yours. “I was created to be the next Pumpkin King. The bones I have within me belonged to a past one and yet just like them I longed to find something that would fill an emptiness that would not go away.”

“There’s something out there, far from my home, a longing that I’ve never known.” He hummed quietly, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek. 

He leaned back down against the blanket, bringing you with him. You placed your hands on his chest, allowing him to stroke your back as you got comfortable atop him. 

“That longing could only be filled by someone like you.”

You softly placed your lips against his lips, stealing his breath as your emotions rose. Your hand moved into his hair, softly scratching at the scalp. There was a moan that fell from his lips at the stimulation, which made you pull back in fright. 

You pulled yourself up, staring down at him. He was panting, eyes drooping as he looked up at you. 

“I’m not going to stop.” He said breathlessly. 

You gasped quietly, as he pulled you closer, quickly turning over to lay over you. He reached up to rub his hand against your cheek softly, staring at you with sharp eyes that seemed to make you melt. 

You raised your own hand, thumbing at his stitches that fell directly from his eyes. “I don’t want you to.”

His next kiss was electrifying. It was harsh and demanding but even though it seemed that way, it was clear neither of you knew what to do. It was not your first kiss but it was the first time you were feeling as though summer was creeping through your bones. 

His tongue swept out to touch your bottom lip, allowing you the room to open your mouth for him. This was out of the ordinary for you, never really knowing what it was like to be with someone in this way. 

But everything Hongjoon did, you didn’t dare want to question. It made you feel an excitement–a warmth you had been longing for, for such a long time. It was exhilarating, magnificent. It was terrifying to feel such a need for Hongjoong. 

You pulled away from him breathlessly, the cooling air coming from the fall breeze did nothing to cool you. The red you always had on your skin from the biting cold was no longer your body trying to warm you up to survive. This time the flush you had was because of Hongjoong. And he wanted to see much more of it. 

His thigh nudged itself in between your own, opening your legs for his body to move in between. There was something between his legs you had never felt before and it was leaving you to burn up. Your knees were pulled up, allowing Hongjoong the space to slot himself perfectly. 

The hands you had behind his head moved, wanting to feel more of his skin so you placed them under his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his shoulders. Before you realized it, the man leaned up, quickly taking off his shirt that had you leaning on your elbows to stare at him wide eyed. 

The stitches. The discoloration of each patch of skin. His muscles. 

Nothing could ever compare to the haunting beauty someone like Kim Hongjoong had. He was someone who was created to rule–someone who demanded attention in his own way. Even if he wasn’t completely his own, the way he was put together was meant to be one of a kind. 

“What?” He smiled at you, chuckling at the look you had. 

“I’ve never seen someone like you.” You spoke softly. 

Hongjoong frowned just for a moment, about to lean back and away from you feeling like there was something wrong. You quickly caught on though, reaching back up to pull him closer to you. You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as your lips brushed his in a soft way. 

Once again, you rubbed at his stitches, this time the ones near his mouth. Opening your eyes he watched as you looked at him with such an intense stare it made him want to cry. 

“Someone like you means that nothing will ever compare to the kind of beauty you have.” You whispered. “In all my years of living–you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

You leaned back in to give him a kiss. This time you allowed him to take off your coat, the green fabric falling behind you as you climbed into Hongjoong’s lap. He was rushing though, seeming more attached to you as he laid you down again.

His hands moved under your shirt, pushing it up as he tried to reveal your breasts. The bra you wore was plain, nothing fancy because of the standard elf uniform. You would have never thought about dressing pretty for Hongjoong, but now that he is looking at you the way he is, you wished you had. 

However he didn’t seem to mind as he quickly pushed your bra cups up and over your nipple so he could see them. You squeaked, looking up at him, shoulders scrunched up causing your arms to push your boobs together more. 

Hongjoong started to smile, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You are so precious.”

You laughed, his body leaning over to give you a peck before he dove down to tongue at your chest. Your chuckle was cut off when his mouth encased a nipple. A sharp gasp left your lip, back arching to chase his tongue laving at you. 

You felt him snicker against your skin, so you glanced down to find him already smiling up at you devilishly as your nipple was caught between his teeth. You were getting tired of your shirt and bra being in the way so you made a rush to take them off. 

With the only thing left being your skirt and tights, Hongjoong took a moment to look at you. You wanted to feel self conscious, but the way his fingers skimmed your sides and touched you things couldn’t be going any slower. 

He took in a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

You nodded your head, wanting to reach for him again. 

“I need you to answer me.” His lips wobbled, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself. 

“I love you, Hongjoong.” Was all you told him. 

His lips twitched, fingers digging into your skin for just a moment as he took in your response. “I love you too, Jingle.”

You raised your hips up, moving to pull your skirt and tights down in one go as the fall breeze finally touched your heated core. There was no need for underwear when you wore tights. And it seemed like Hongjoong appreciated it a lot because he seemed to straightened up at the sigh of you. 

“I’m going to take off my pants. Okay?” He told you, pulling at his belt. 

You sat up, confused why he was shaking as he took off his pants. You began to worry maybe he didn’t want to be one with you in that way. 

“Hongjoong you don’t have to do this.” You quickly told him, sitting up. Your hands went to stop him but he lightly shoved you away. 

“I want to.” He told you. “I just–Don’t exactly look like all the others. I don’t have the same appendage as everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

There wasn’t exactly anything you could compare it to. It’s not like the other elves go around telling stories of their escapades or how things worked within a relationship. You only could question him. Because as far as you could tell Hongjoong, this was going to be your first time doing anything like this. 

“It has–stitches.” He cringed at the thought, which only made you frown. 

You sat up, pulling your knees under you. Your hand went to his pants, making him freeze up, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You began to pull them down, not removing the eye contact you had with him. But he was quick to look down at where you were going. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You told him honestly. “But I want you to know that no matter what you have you will always be someone beautiful to me.” 

He gulped, nodding his head. “You make me feel less dead inside.”

You smiled, fingers now dancing along his shaft. He moaned out quietly, and you felt it twitch up. 

“And you give me the warmth of a thousand melting snowflakes.” You pushed to touch his lips with yours. 

You felt him move to wrap your hand around his entire length, finally feeling the ridges of the stitches he was talking about along your palm. They were on the underside of his shaft, running along the entire length. You moaned from how warm he felt in your hand. 

You thumbed at the bumps, feeling against your lips how he would groan. He took off the rest of his pants, pushing and pulling to get you in his desired position. You could feel the warmth he was giving off on your core, and it made you even more heated than you cared to admit. 

“Hongjoong…”You whispered, feeling along his scarred skin. 

“I–I’m trying my best.” He told you, holding himself up with his arms. “This is my first–”

“It’s okay.” You smiled bashfully. “It’s mine too.”

Hongjoong’s lips pulled up feeling something swell in his chest that felt much deeper than anything he could have imagined. Neither of you could think of anything better than getting the chance to be with one another in this way. It was something Hongjoong could only dream of thinking that maybe he would be viewed as something out of the ordinary. 

Hongjoong took in a deep breath, looking down between your legs before moving to touch you. The gasp you let out had him flinching but when he saw your face, he found himself wanting to touch you in places that would have you gasping and out of breath. 

But he found himself losing his own breath, noticing how sensitive the tip of his cock was as his fingers grazed both your hole and his shaft. Each time you would move your hips up just to get his cock to rub against you, he found it harder to hold off from shoving in. 

He wanted to–gosh did he want to–but he wanted to enjoy the moment for a bit more. He didn’t want to rush. He didn’t want to reach the point of cumming prematurely because he wanted this to be good for you too. 

All he had to go by was off what the others would talk about. But this was much more than a simple hook up they seemed to do when they would go out into the real world. This was someone he loved with all his being. 

“Hongjoong.” You called him. 

He looked up from his stupor, pausing when he saw your glazed over look. “Tell me if it hurts.”

You didn’t have to say anything else as he was quick to start pushing in. 

Your toes curled, your legs clenched, you could feel every little bump that came with the stitches. It was something you could never describe. You had no idea how to voice to him that you wished you were able to feel it all over again for the first time. 

Hongjoong was going in slowly, choking gasps falling from his lips as every inch that he went in was covered by a pulsing warmth. He was panting, gritting his teeth together to keep from spilling too early. 

“Hongjoong.” You gasped. 

Your back arched, hands splayed against his chest. He leaned to one side, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure taking over. He pulled on your leg to wrap around his waist. Your eyes shot open at the new position, clenching around his length. 

“How–How is it this good?” He gasped out, hand messaging into your thigh. 

His breath hit the tips of your ears, the pointed flesh flicking from the tickle. All he got in response were your whimpers and soft whines. And when you began to move your hips when he bottomed out, Hongjoong couldn’t hold it in. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied manner to keep you occupied while his hips began to move back and forth. 

Your blunt nails dug themselves into his shoulders, pulling at the skin which caused a stinging coming from the stitches he had there. The stinging only made him groan. His hips went faster. 

There was an inexplicable feeling that was beginning to build in the both of you that had you trying to chase it. Hongjoong’s movement became frantic, while you wiggle your hips closer to his. With each rub against his pelvis you felt an even better feeling. And each time you moved up you it felt like you would touch it. So you tried your best to chase the feeling. 

When something started to pull, your pants turned into whimpers and cries in Hongjoong’s ears. 

“(Y/N)...” Hongjoong panted, fingers digging into your leg. 

He didn’t stutter his hips this time, rather than a rhythmic movement, he was pounding in you slowly and trying to get you to cum. And when you did, Hongjoong swore you could almost cut off all circulation with how tight you felt. 

You felt everything when you clenched down and saw stars. You could feel your body becoming overstimulated and your legs began to shake. But you knew that Hongjoong still needed more so you let him continue as you panted and cried. 

And when he came you nearly cried from how primal it was for him. His hand smacked next to your head, clenching at the ground. His forehead laid against yours, your breaths mixing from all the sharp intake of breathing you were doing. He stilled his hips, allowing his length to twitch inside you as you felt a warmth spill from him. 

He sniffled, softly kissing your lips as you both came down from your high. You smiled, feeling the twitches each muscle gave out and the tiredness seeped into you. Your fingers still wanted to touch him so they lightly played along the skin of his chest. 

Finally, Hongjoong leaned to the side, falling over and pulling you close to his side. With his body off of you, you could feel the wind brush past your heated skin. 

For the first time in such a long while the cold didn’t bother you. 

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