#cause sometimes it DOES get a little too much

[nichuuu]

Dinner & Diatribes: Analogous

Shin Yuna x Im Nayeon x M reader

Word count: 14k+

“A younger girl… And I’m talking much younger. Eight years younger than me I think.”

Normally, it feels like you’re worlds apart from Nayeon in her bed. You’re just her toy, her plaything, her doll.

Tonight though: it feels like she’s in the same world as you. She feels here — emotionally and physically present as her nails trace circles on your bare chest. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe even classic manipulation, but she feels like more than just someone who you fuck on the weekends.

“And you won’t be jealous?” you ask, indulging yourself and playing with her hair a little. She scoffs.

“You talk like we’re dating.” She shifts so that she has a cheek on your shoulder. A relationship with her wouldn’t really fly: she’s not gonna let you take care of her when she loves control more than anything. Still, it’s nice to dream about holding her hand sometimes. “I have no reason to be jealous, so why would I be?”

(It’s a question you’re asking yourself too honestly.)

“Dunno,” you muse, admittedly a little disheartened, “maybe it’s cause you’re kinda freaky… Just a thought.”

She smirks. “Trust me. A younger girl in this thing we’ve got going on isn’t gonna affect anything.” She starts tapping her nails against your chest. “Besides… You know you’re mine.”

Oh…

(Not sure how to feel about that last part.)

***

Last you checked: you weren’t expecting a guest today. 

“Uh,” you can’t help but mutter past her lips as you stagger back into your own apartment. She lifts her lips off yours out of consideration, and she takes a few moments to soak in the look of mixed emotions that has made its way onto your face. You don’t mean to be rude when you point at the other girl and ask, “do you wanna perhaps wanna, you know, fill me in on what’s going on here?”

Im Nayeon turns, looks over her shoulder, smiles. She turns back, cups your cheek with her hand. 

“Thought I’d bring some company tonight, just to spice things up.” Nayeon tells you, turning your head in a way that lets you get a good look at the younger girl standing at the door to your apartment. “Hope you don’t mind.” With her other hand, she makes a come hither motion, and tells the girl to close the door on her way in. The girl does as she’s told, and when she’s next to the both of you, Nayeon takes her by the hand and pulls her closer. 

“Introduce yourself sweetie,” Nayeon instructs—firm yet almost saccharine. Nayeon lets her thumb rub over the girl’s knuckles, a deceivingly sweet smile playing on her lips. “Tell him what we’ve rehearsed. Go on.”

She’s an eye-catcher for sure—the other girl, not Nayeon. Not that Nayeon isn’t already turning heads when she walks just about anywhere, but more that the other girl is just a rather far cry from what you're comfortable with. You’re so used to Nayeon’s gentle, piercing eyes that can probably break you with a look from her; those small, plump lips of hers that kiss you with precision and passion; those bunny cheeks that you love pinching so damn much that it probably should be considered an addiction. But this girl brings something new to the table, and you have to admit that it’s refreshing. 

Smoky, kinda innocent eyes that have a whole foot in the territory of doleful and another foot in the realm of entrancing; luscious long black hair; a face that could make just about anyone melt. Nayeon’s guest is certainly a few years younger than her, and certainly less lecherous than her senior at first glance. You don’t really know where or how Nayeon could pick up a girl that looks as sweet as this, and you certainly want to find out how a girl that looks like the textbook definition of ‘smoking hot’ could ever end up in a place like this. She’s clearly nervous, but you give her credit for being able to stand perfectly still with Nayeon’s hand starting to roam up her arm. 

“I’m Yuna… But you can call me whatever you want.”

The sentence has Nayeon’s fingerprints all over it, and you can assume with full certainty that she’s had this idea stewing in her head for at least a week or two. The smug grin on Nayeon’s face tells you that things are going according to plan, and her fingers latch themselves around Yuna’s forearm. 

“She’s a fun one to play with.” Now she’s directed her attention to you, looking right at you as she pulls the younger woman even close to the both of you: till you can literally feel Yuna’s breath in your ear. “A young little slut to spice things up.”

Nayeon takes her attention away from you, and with gentle hands on Yuna’s cheeks, she pulls the younger girl in for a kiss. It’s simple—no tongue or anything—but it’s enough to make the younger girl squirm a little where she stands. Nayeon’s clearly taking pleasure in this. Even with her lips locked with a girl younger than her, you can clearly see the whisper of a cheeky smile playing on the corners of her lips. You wonder if she’s gonna get more joy out of this than you at the end of the day.

The younger girl is released from the fierce lip-lock. She looks dazed, like she just took a hit of a blunt. Nayeon admires her craftsmanship for a moment, taking in the look on the poor girl’s face as she chuckles softly to herself, “oh my… Someone wasn’t quite ready, was she?”

Yuna’s at a clear loss for words. She tries to speak; her words fail her. You can’t exactly blame her though. Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it. It’s fun, kinda hot; but not when you’re in a horrible place to get it and she decides that she just wants to blow you at some restaurant that you’re at. It’s a bit of a handful really, and you don’t quite know what to do with her sometimes. Wonder how Yuna fares?

“It’s okay,” Nayeon assures her, “you’re in good company now, though you're free to just watch if you’re still shy.”

The younger girl looks at her senior, then at you, then back to her senior. “I think I’d like to join in on this.”

Nayeon beams, her smile almost sweet if it isn’t for the fact that she’s quite literally happy to see a younger girl get it on with you and her. “That’s the spirit.”

And it’s confusing really: figuring out which of them is gonna make the first move. Yuna’s energy gives her an air of uncertainty, but you can sense some mischief within her that resonates at the same frequency of Nayeon’s. Yet there’s something a little different about her that you can’t quite place your finger on. Her youth is a breath of fresh air; there’s that young energy in her smile towards Nayeon that tells you that she’s eager but somewhat cautious. You would call her a mirror of Nayeon as they start discussing how she wants it, but you pick up on a bit of pickiness in her voice  that strays from Nayeon’s attitude. The older girl before you will take it however she likes, fuck herself on your cock till she cums and kinda leave you high and dry. Yuna on the other hand has some grungy ideas of where she wants you to cum and how she wants it to happen.

Okay, let’s return to home base and consolidate: they're similar but different; kinda conflicting yet go together like dinner and diatribes on a family reunion. There’s reason to believe that they are somewhat two sides of the same coin, yet simple observation contradicts the notion. Bottom line – it’s confusing.

“You know what?” Nayeon has a finger twirled in Yuna’s hair as she casts a glance at you. “How about we get you naked first… Then we figure out what we can do?”

Yuna seems to enjoy the proposal. The two women look at you, and Nayeon gestures with her head to come closer. As your feet land on the wood floor, Nayeon goes at a slower pace of walking as she rounds Yuna and stands behind her. She’s shorter than her by a considerable amount, but it doesn’t make her any less imposing as she pokes her head out from Yuna’s right side.

“Go on. Unwrap her,” Nayeon whispers, running a hand up Yuna’s stomach. “Let’s see what she has in store for us…”

And Yuna is more than glad to lift her arms up for you as you pull her sweater off her body. The girl has an amazing body – you’d give her that. Slim waist, wide hips, hourglass figures so defined that the sands of time would be jealous. A body to die for really, and the appeal only increases as she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. Nayeon smiles as she tosses her article of clothing aside. 

“Tight and forthcoming?” The older woman muses. “Looks like we have quite the toy on our hands.”

Yuna’s gaze is almost searing as you step up to her. Her breathing is kinda unsteady, but you can’t exactly blame her. She’s half naked in front of two older people, with one of them running her hands along her smooth skin while the other cock their head and examine her from head to toe. If you were in her shoes, your blood would be racing and boiling fast. 

“Do what you want with me,” she whispers. She reaches forward and grasps your crotch through your pants. “I’m yours to take.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did Nayeon teach you that?”

“Nope.” Speak of the devil and she doth answer on the younger woman’s behalf. “I only told her how to introduce herself, didn’t tell her what to say after,” Nayeon explains, a glint in her eye as she stares up at Yuna’s face. “Is it kinda fucked up if I wanna see her suck your dick?”

Yuna glances at her senior, then returns her gaze to you. “A little… But we can make it happen.”

Another point of difference – 2 actually: she doesn’t play around with her words and she’s pretty proactive. You like that. 

It’s a mess as you fumble with clothes, but it doesn’t take long for you guys to rid Yuna of the rest of her clothing and have her on her knees in the living room carpet. Her hands are delicate as she pulls down on the waistband of your boxers and frees your cock, and their even more so when she grips your throbbing shaft with both hands. On the chair that Nayeon pushed you onto, you watch her eyes as they survey what she’s working with.

“Wow…” she mutters, looking over to the right where Nayeon’s lounging on the sofa. “You had this all to yourself?”

Nayeon’s lips slant at an angle. “I know right? Better than any dildo you can find on the market.”

Yuna takes a moment to really look at the cock in her hands, eyes full of lustful wonder as she takes it in from all angles. She lets her mouth hang open for a little as she processes what she’s seeing, then she asks, “how does she even walk the next morning? I mean… This thing is girthy as fuck. Would probably split me open if I’m not careful.”

“It won’t,” Nayeon answers rather spontaneously, tapping her finger against a cushion as she watches Yuna pump your shaft with her lanky fingers. “It’ll fill you just right,” she leans against the handrest of the couch, watching intently as you push away some hair from Yuna’s face, “though I think it’ll look the best in your mouth.”

Yuna gets the gist. Her cheek presses itself against the inside of your thigh as she lifts your shaft and kisses it at the base, and she works her way up to the tip while one hand keeps your twitching cock steady. She gets to your head, and her lips take the sensitive part of you about halfway in, making sure you're looking (and you mean, like, really looking) as she lets her tongue lick the precum off from your leaking tip. Once she’s certain that she has your fullest attention, her jaw slacks and her shoulders rise; she takes a breath, closes her eyes.

There’s the hiss of an inhale — from you — as your head tilts back against the backrest while your cock enters the warm wet tavern of her mouth. She’s almost methodical in the way she takes you in, stopping halfway to adjust the angle of her head so that she can push forwards and down and drive the rest of your meat into your mouth. Her hands steady her, resting against your thighs as she tears a little. She’s a little more patient than her senior, waiting for a bit before she starts moving at a steady pace. Spit’s starting to drip down to her chin – will probably ruin the carpet if you cared enough (and you don’t). Nayeon’s been meaning to change this damn thing anyway. It’s seen too many juices and some dog piss in it from when her pomeranian was over those few times.

“Jesus,” is all you can hiss, through closed teeth of course. The young girl is nothing short of heavenly; she’s almost perfect at taking your dick as she starts to bob her head. The gurgling is kinda loud; spit flows like a stream down your shaft, only to be collected by that fastidious mouth as it traces a path – up and down and up and down. You wonder if there’s some make-up to be ruined.

“Won’t you look at that?” And you don’t even need to look over at the couch to know that Nayeon’s playing with herself. The squelching tells you lots, but the way her speech is kinda breathy tells you more than you need to know. She’s probably really turned by the sight of a younger woman taking cock into her mouth, riled up at the sight of tears flowing down her youthful cheeks. It’s borderline voyeuristic, pretty fucking freaky but also kinda hot. That’s her whole brand anyway. “She’s fucking taking your dick. My god…”

Yuna gurgles on your dick – probably some reply she’s trying to give but fails to because she has dick in her mouth. The suckle of her lips; the slide of her tongue against the base of your shaft; her throat kinda convulsing as she struggles and struggles – you don’t know if it’s all gonna be a bit too much, but now you’re really focusing on not trying to hurt her while your hands grab a handful of her hair in a fist. You’re assisting—or maybe forcing… Low-key goes both ways when there’s a very, very fine line between the two in this context—her, pulling her into your crotch and pushing her off just to pull her in again. It’s a vicious cycle – kinda doubling on the meaning while also butchering it: harsh and repetitive but there’s not a fucking instance where this produces a detrimental result.   

She comes up for air, your shaft pretty much dripping with spit as she takes a moment to gather herself. The gasping is hot, and so is the way she wipes her spit towards her mouth with the back of her hand. “God this is… Fuck...” she mutters, licking her lips while her fist is in constant fluid motion. Bruce Lee would be proud: she is like water.

“Keep it up darling,” the motions of Nayeon’s wrist have gotten quite sharp, sudden and lacking interval. Okay, maybe not sudden, but more… Desperate. It’s not like she isn’t gonna get her fair share of cock or anything, but she hasn’t been over for a while. There’s only so much that a vibrator and her fingers can do; she kinda needs to see it and revel in it for her to actually get off properly. You don’t know if watching a young girl take dick into her mouth is softening the blow dealt to her senses, but you kinda know that it’s still doing a number on her because she’s completely hiked up the hem of her dress to fuck herself with her fingers. There’s not much thought behind her actions, but she’s definitely letting herself go a little wild for the night. She is being indulged after all. 

“Am I doing good?” Yuna inquires, and it’s a question directed to both of you really. You give her a nod; Nayeon’s answer is verbal: Keep that up and you’re gonna make two people cum in the next five minutes. The young girl is pleased. She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, lick the cock before her from base to tip and sneak in some scissoring flicks of her tongue. Your hand finds itself on her cheek, thumb massaging the bone just above the flesh as she giggles and tosses her hair.

“You’re a doll,” you tell her. She smiles.

“That’s one of the many names I’ve been called,” she replies, letting your spit-covered head rub against her cheek. “Though I like the name cumslut the most.”

Oh.

Your grip on her cheek becomes more firm. “Okay then,” and your pushing her to the left so that her lips are in line with your head. “Open wide you fucking cumslut.”

The enthrallment in her eyes is apparent. Obedient, subservient, forthcoming, whatever; she parts her lips and lets her tongue hang out. Her eyelids flutter shut. You pull her forward. Nayeon cusses.

You're unbelievably hard in her mouth, and your member is ever so sensitive to every movement inside those cheeks of hers. The softness of her tongue, slickness of her drool, warmth of her cheeks… Too much to focus on with so little space for appreciation. You settle on fixating on the suction, the sweet vacuum her lips form around your length as she quite literally lets her mouth get used. Two hands around her head – pulling, pushing, pulling, pushing. A hot rhythm, not quite a dance but kinda cyclical like a routine. More perverse than any street jazz choreo you’ve seen though.

“Yuna,” you mutter, “ you’re so – fuck I – ugh… Your mouth.”

Somewhere in her throat, there’s space for a hum. Her hands are behind her back, locked in place by her own accord as she lets you fuck her mouth with no qualms. It’s smooth, almost natural till she gags a little on your dick and has to blink a bit. Slip n’ slide; front and back – she just takes your cock like an obedient little slut. It’s amazing, kinda dark, but still amazing nonetheless. The gurgling and the sound that comes from her throat that’s almost like swallowing; your fingers grasping the silky strands of her hair; eyes meeting hers. Fuck. 

You're desperate for a taste of heaven. You pull her down harder, faster. 

She gags, chokes, sucks a little harder. 

“Fuck this,” Nayeon hisses. “I’m joining in.”

And she straddles you before you can even blink, kissing you fiercely like she’s gonna die the next day and this is the last time she’s seeing you. Somewhere along the way, she’d shed her clothes. Now she’s nude and kissing you, jabbing her tongue into your mouth and exploring the feel of your teeth. Your cheeks are hers to hold, your mouth hers to own. 

She breaks the torrid kiss, “Yuna,” she drawls, playing with your hair as she speaks to the girl while looking at you. “Don’t ruin him too much. Leave some fun for me.”

The vibrations sent down your shaft make you tingle from head to toe – a product of Yuna’s attempted reply. You can’t see her anymore, but you can continue to just flow with the movements of pulling and pushing against her hair as Nayeon dives between her legs to get back to work. The older woman lets a sigh escape from her lips, pushing her fingers a little deeper. You can feel the heat against your crotch. Her hands move a little faster.

“Do you have any idea,” she whispers, her voice kind of striking that middle frequency between the gurgling and the squelching. “How fucking pent up I was in that damn dorm?”

Through your teeth, you reply. “No,” and you kinda twitch a little in Yuna’s mouth. “Do tell.”

She leans in, moans into your ear for good measure. “I was dripping every other day,” she reports, a lilt in her voice as she continues her work between her thighs. “Didn’t help that Momo was bringing a guy over and I could hear them fucking through the walls… My vibrator almost died that week.”

“Well…” you shudder as you speak, a familiar tingle building up from the base of your shaft. "You’ll have to wait your fucking turn.”

She smiles, quite sadistically you might add.

“That’s alright,” she tells you. Her forehead pressed against yours. “Just leave a load for me.”

And you have to hit her with an honest reply. “I’ll always have a load for you.”

“That’s what I thought.” She straightens her back and looks down at you. “I own this dick,” she announces to her audience of two. “Now cum in her mouth. I’m gonna get her to fucking swallow your load.” The orders are barked, not said. “I wanna watch.”

And she turns her toned back to you, leaving you with the view of the delicious curve of her back as she arches it while slicking her fingers with her own juices. You’re trying to hold on, desperately, but there’s only so much you can do when the mouth around you and the two women before you are this hot.

You don’t get to see it when it happens, but you can hear it and kinda imagine it when you cum right into Yuna’s mouth. You bet it’s kinda messy, but you’ll never know. Nayeon’s ass blocks the view – a trade off: view for a view. You hear the older woman hiss her commands—“Swallow. Fucking swallow you filthy little whore”—envison the sight of the young woman struggling to down your load as it pumps ito her wet hot mouth. A groan spills from your lips; a long-drawn sigh filters from Nayeon’s chest; Yuna gulps as she takes it all.

Your dick pops out of her mouth, all messy and slick with juices. Nayeon grabs it, pumps it, and without warning – shoves it into her cunt. 

And all at once it becomes too much: your over stimulated member twitches wildly in the grasps of her slick, hot walls as it begs for a break. The pleasure is horribly abundant, so much that it almost hurts. There’s no time to process the tight heat around you, voice your need for a break. Nayeon starts bouncing on her knees.

“Oh fuck yes.” Her hands shoot behind her, the left one failing to catch the handrest the first timebut gripping it tightly on the second attempt. Her knuckles go white. “I needed this. I needed to be filled by this fucking cock of yours.”

It’s too much; another load surges forth almost instantly. The hot semen paints her walls, shoots up from your already over-sensitive head and flows down her cunt. It leaks out; the squelching gets louder. Yuna’s tongue laps up the mix of juices that flow. Nayeon continues to ride.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of her waist, desperate to assist you in grounding yourself in this seemingly unreal reality. There’s a lack of words that can really describe your predicament, and if you’re to actually bring it across in a coherent sentence, it’ll probably something along the lines of “fuck” repeated at least a million times. You’re stuck in the chain of entry and exits of her pussy, a bundle of nerves beneath Im Nayeon while she mercilessly fucks herself on your cock. Right now: your dick is nothing but a mere toy for her to get off on, and she made that very clear from the moment she started throwing herself down onto your dick.

“Nayeon…” you heave. It’s an effort to even breathe.

“Shut it,” she hisses, not even casting a glance behind her. “I’m cumming on this cock one way or another and I don’t care how many fucking loads you give me.”

Yuna crawls around to the side of the chair. You hazard a glance at the young girl. She’s messy, sweaty and has residues of cum and drool at some areas around her mouth. She reaches out into the chair and takes you by the hand, squeezing it tightly in hers as if she knows that you’re fucking fading by the second. Every slam of Nayeon’s crotch against you is a mix of pleasure and pain, her moans almost like animalistic grunts.

“Fuck… You’re really filling her,” Yuna muses, watching the older girl take her liberties with your dick. “She must be so fucking tight right now.”

You swallow. “Yeah… It’s… Fuck…”

Yuna chuckles. Watching you struggle must kinda humour a little. She gives your hand a squeeze, encouraging you to hold on to what grasp of this world you have left. Her eyes sparkle, almost envious as she sees her senior bouncing on the dick she was taking into her mouth just a few moments ago. Her other hands snakes between her legs, flits circles of respite. Two girls getting off before you, similar but different.

Go ahead. Call this shit Tuesday.

***

“Be nice to her when I’m gone.”

You aren’t sure why Nayeon would need such a huge suitcase for a 10 day trip with her family. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s probably tonnes of products in there that she wants to bring along for the fuck of it, but the damned thing looks like it was harbouring a small child. Not that Nayeon would ever do that, but it does help to paint a clearer picture of the sheer scale of her luggage. The airport X-ray is about to have a field day with this.

“Of course.” You’re kinda obvious about your ogling from the doorway as Nayeon does her hair with nothing but her leggings on. Yuna is still fast asleep in the room that you’d prepared for her, but you still kept your volume down just to play it safe. 

Nayeon smirks at you through the mirror. “I’m sure she’ll feel right at home with you.”

“Is that sarcasm I’m hearing?”

“Take it however you like. My eyes are up here by the way.”

You chuckle and walk up behind her. “Guilty as charged mademoiselle,” you apologise, though you're not all that ashamed of th fact that she’s caught you in th act of fucking her with your eyes.

Nayeon hits you with a scoff, a rather aloof one that screams ‘got you. Thought you were slick huh?’ even though it was within your fullest intentions for her to catch you looking. She had to be fair to you in this situation — kinda hard to look at anything else. Or maybe you’re misjudging her, maybe she knows full well that you were (and still are) catching a good look at those firm, perky mounds that sit proudly atop her chest. They fit perfectly in your hands, quite like a glove—OJ Simpson would hate that it fits that well—and a nicely-fitted set of bed sheets. What the fuck does that even mean? Frankly, you can’t quite put an explanation to it yourself; you’re kinda listing things that sound and feel right to you — things that give something enjoyable that little kick it needs to become something more congenial. 

(That sort of encapsulates her whole personality honestly. She’s already something to relish, cherish; the type of girl that makes other guys say ‘she’s a keeper’ even though they don’t have the slightest idea of what she really was like beyond cameras and public appearances. Kinda horny all the time, but also wants to cuddle you to sleep and call you all sorts of pet names after you’ve blindfolded and fucked her against three different flat surfaces – maybe breaking some expensive furniture in the process. Dominant, a little stubborn and a little pissy. Need you say more?)

“But for real: make her feel at home,” she says, setting down the curling iron and switching it off. She leaves it to cool down, puts on a sweater while she waits. “Poor girl’s been through enough. I promised her a safe haven, so try to make it one.”

The context behind her request is a little baffling. Just this morning Nayeon told you of Yuna’s falling out with an alleged highschool sweetheart, and she's taking shelter with you guys till legal matters are dealt with and she’s safe and sound. Guy started stalking her apparently, threatened her once or twice too. Fun times we live in.

Helping her hook the clasp of her necklace, you assure Nayeon that only your best effort would go into creating a safe space for her younger companion. Not to brag, but you’re pretty good at making friends—trust me. We’ll be tight before you even know it—with strangers. It’ll be like walking the dog; easy peasy. You get the idea right? Kinda running out of sayings. Nayeon seems pretty pleased with your promises.

“If you guys have fun, do send some videos,” she tells you, opening her drawer to pull out a pair of jeans. “I’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t. That girl has a body even I wanna ravage.”

“So cock is not enough, huh?” you tease. She flicks her eyes to the mirror.

“Who said it wasn’t enough?” She cocks her head and makes eye contact through the mirror. “I literally ride you till you’re sore. Yuna’s just… an add-on. Like a side dish if you will.”

You chortle. “And I’m the main course?”

“Nope,” she giggles, unfolding her jeans. “That would be me.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“If you want an admission of my wrongs, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”

And she meets your eyes in the mirror. You smile, knowing that she’ll probably let you get away with this one.

“It’s really a shame…” you sigh. “These leggings were, like, really nice.”

***

Couple minutes later you’re giving her a kiss on the cheek as she hurries for the taxi that arrived five minutes ago. In the midst of the commotion, Yuna emerges from her room dressed in one of your shirts – just in time to wave goodbye to her senior before Nayeon slips away. You're not too sure if she’s fully registered the fact that she’ll be stuck with you for a full week, but hopefully once the realisation sets in, you’d already have made her comfortable. 

You turn. The way you meet her gaze is kinda awkward. She has a look of intrigue on her face as she rubs her arms and gazes back at you with those doleful eyes.

You clear your throat. “You uh… You like omelettes?”

***

On your phone screen, Nayeon just kinda stares back at you with a hundred-yard-stare type of look. Hotel wifi has her video freezing at a rate that would make Elsa proud, and she’s barely a human through all the pixelated fuck-what that clouds in front of her.

“I feel like we're focusing on vastly different things here, Nayeon.” You’re hoping that she can hear your voice over the roaring silence of shitty network bandwidth. “Not even a day too… I’m pretty sure the poor girl’s scared shitless of me.”

And while Nayeon’s video and audio buffer, it’s a good time to remind yourself of your mistake. Not that you forgot it or anything, but you just gotta make sure that everything that you tell Nayeon is accurate.

So it turned out that Yuna and breakables don’t really go well together. Nayeon seems to have forgotten to ask you to read some fine-prints, and you basically went in raw when you witnessed  the young girl’s clumsiness. Quite the butter-fingers: she broke a mug and a plate in one slip of her tray from her hands. The sound of shattering porcelain jarred her, and as she attempted to move out of her mess, the Dad in you spurred you to cry out in panic. Don’t move! you practically roar. Poor thing flinched like she’s being held at gun-point, started shivering a little as you rushed over to clear up the shards. You don’t quite know how to comfort her, and so you just tell her to just eat in her room if she’s uncomfortable. She took you up on that, and that ended the first non-sexual interaction you had with her.

Way to go… You deserve a star.

By the time you’re done pacing the room and have thrown yourself onto the bed, Nayeon reconnects back to the call. She’s in a bathroom, wearing airpods and sitting in what looks like a bathtub. From the fact that she's wearing a robe, you’ll bet good money on the really (and you can’t stress this enough) high chance that she’s wearing nothing else beneath that.

“Five star hotel and I get two bars of wifi everywhere except the damn toilet,” she huffs. Guess you were right about what the two of you were focusing on. No prizes for being right though; life’s a bitch. “Anyway, don’t think too much about it. She’s clumsy but she’s not unaware. I’m sure she’ll understand where you’re coming from.”

“Honestly”—you slide under the covers and heave a huge sigh—“I think I might find my thirteenth reason if she hates me tomorrow.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes. Yes: she’s painfully aware that you certainly won’t kill yourself over the fact that you may or may not have made a girl re-live her trauma, but the knowledge of that doesn’t stop her from expressing her disdain towards your little joke.

“Sleep on it. You’ll be fine tomorrow,” she assures you, now in full resolution and crystal clear audio and image. She segways into something else, “By the way, check out the link I’m sending you.”

Toilet wifi is truly doing her wonders cause you get the link in question right after she says it. And you aren’t sporting a fedora when you confidently identify the source as a Reddit thread, but it feels like you should be heading online to buy one and get it delivered via next-day delivery. (Ugh… You can feel the word m’lady threatening to burst forth from your mouth already.) Yuck.

Clicking on the link brings you to a community you’re no stranger to. You’ve heard of it once or twice, but never really had the time or energy to delve into the posts. Nayeon seems to have done some homework though — you’re taken to a very specific post, a clip that kinda blew up when it debuted. 

It takes no Oppenheimer to draw the conclusion that the post addresses Nayeon herself, and she’s clad in that all black bodysuit from that one Talk That Talk performance that hugs her figure and really makes all the curves on her body pop. You’d know: you fucked her in this outfit; railed her on the bed from the back with a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs on her wrists if you want specifics. And if you want even more details: she didn’t let you cum till she’d came 3 times. Fun.

It’s a stunning outfit, and the appeal of the wonders it does to Nayeon’s body is only emphasised by how she runs her hands up from her hips, tracing the hourglass shape of her figure before she flips her hair. A pretty good Gif. Seems to have all 1410 commenters on their knees.

Now mind you: you’re on speaker phone with her right now. With that in mind, it sure as hell feels like Nayeon’s in the room with you as low sighs and salacious squelching starts filtering through Nayeon’s microphone and into your ears. A quick glance at the call window (that’s so helpfully converted to a small rectangle at the top right-hand corner of your phone) confirms 2 things while surprising you with a third find:

1) She’s very much naked under that robe. A bit of a no-brainer

2) She’s playing with herself – legs wide open and one of them (you can’t be arsed to really say which one) propped up on the rim of the bathtub as juice-slicked fingers work themselves between flushed folds.

3) The whole reason you can see the stuff in 2) is attributed to the fact that she's somehow leaned her phone against something in that bathtub to give you an almost artistic view of her. Emphasis on ‘almost’ because the close-up of her pretty, pink pussy is foreground to an even more sordid display of her half-lidded eyes and parted lips — baseness personified really.

Yuna becomes a secondary thought. “So… Has anyone told you that you’re kind of freaky?”

“Hey. I’m just a girl,” she muses, the look on her face a strong contender for the symbol of pure depravity. “Read the comments would you?”

“Twitter’s a much better place for this if—”

“Just stop being a smartass and read the fucking horny comments.”

You’re not intimidated by the aggression behind her voice for once, and it’s probably because she isn’t here to edge you if you don’t shut up. You take a moment to admire just how good she looks in this seemingly sempiternal display of what looks like lust itself, the Gif looping at least 3 times while you’re at it (and it’s like, the best 14 seconds of your life). The sun hits her at just the right, illuminating the best parts of her while shadows further define the shape of her curves – bringing forth the swell of her hips while making her tits and ass look bigger by a rather generous amount. Frankly, she looks good in just about anything really. Clothes on or off; hair tied up or let down; lingerie or fancy dress; lace or solid, she is the embodiment of sex.

“Hurry the fuck up,” she hisses, and it’s dripping with lethal lust and desire like venom from serpent fangs. Okay… There’s some mutual interest here with you and Nayeon. You’ll oblige.

“How nasty are we getting?” you inquire, all while you work the waistband of your pants down past your crotch so that your cock can spring free. You enlarge the window of the call, silently hypnotising yourself with the sight of Im Nayeon’s hand busying itself between her legs. “Are we going from the tame ones and progressing or…”

The look on her face tells you that she doesn’t give a shit; and she’s about this close to ending this filthy call and getting off on her own. Better conscience guides you to pick a random comment from the middle and get going with it.

“This one’s a thought provoker,” you preempt, scanning through the rather raunchy statement left behind by some undoubtedly turned-on user. “It says, ‘I wonder what she tells her stylist when she has to wear such outfits. It's like she must be really asking: I want something that will reveal my whole curvy figure. Nayeon is really the best girl’.”

“Mnph…” — she tilts her head back and lets out a gasp – an implosive suction of air that’s sharp yet so pleasing to your ears. “Curvy and… What was that again?”

“Best girl,” you reiterate, watching with a half-parted mouth as your hand matches the pace of Nayeeon’s fingers pumping in and out of the wet mess on the screen, “looks like someone’s got an eye for details.”

“They’d better. I think I looked fucking hot in that thing.”

You could second that opinion, though it was probably in your best interest to keep reading. This is basically your equivalent of putting fries into bags. You’re kinda okay with it, but you’re struggling to read this next one because of its horrible grammar, “her pussy must feel like heaven. With a tight body like that, she must know how she’s draining balls around the world.”

In the bathtub, she twitches. Her ring and middle finger are drenched when they’re removed from her pussy, but they don’t rest and find solid ground on her clit. They rub circles into Nayeon’s swollen nub, no doubt applying just the right amount of pressure onto the area while Nayeon is breathing all shaky and sounds like she’s been winded. In your books: this is basically her doing a backflip over the fine line between freaky and kinky, and basically exposing you to some new kink that she’s probably picked up from Sana.  If any of these commenters ever really had a sliver of an idea of what she’s really like behind the scenes, you doubt that the comments would be as merciful as this. Anyway, next.

“I bet she likes it raw. She probably loves being a good little fucktoy who takes unprotected dicks into that tight pussy and letting load after load fill her. I mean” —Nayeon starts to shudder a little, quaking and sighing as you get to the more explicit section of his comment—“she’d probably like it if I just ripped that dress off her body and spread her legs. She’ll moan like a slut when I put it in her and just start doing her raw. Imagine the way her tits will bounce. Fucking slut, she was made to be bred.”

She lets out this moan – inexplicable and undescribable. She urges you to keep going. You do just that.

“I want her mouth so bad. Bunny has those dick sucking lips that are made for cock, probably gives mad head and is so fucking sloppy with it. I bet she’ll let the drool drip from the corners of her mouth while she takes me in all the way, and she’ll probably thank me with her eyes when I grab her by the hair and start fucking her throat. I’m gonna destroy that pretty little face so bad, leave her so fucking messy and ruined that she’ll have to stop singing for at least a week. When I cum, I’m gonna make sure it goes down her throat and get some on that slutty face. She’s earned it.”

You’re watching her, pumping your fist around your cock while she lets her jaw slack and lets her moans sort of tumble from her mouth in batches. “More,” she pleads, fingers trembling as she lets her free hand slip beneath her robe and start giving attention to her tits. You’d kinda kill to see them now, but this view will have to do. “Read more. I want to hear it.”

“They're getting nastier,” you inform her. “This whole thread of comments is just 3 guys discussing how they want to share you in a gangbang.”

“Fuck yes. Please…”

She never finishes the sentence, but you get the gist. You persist. 

The next one is kinda paraphrased, partially because you’re projecting your own fantasies while simultaneously deciphering what this guy is trying to say across 5 separate comments. 

“I want nothing more”—and it’s getting really hard to breathe while Nayeon’s fucking herself senseless halfway across the world. Maybe if she hadn’t worn those damned airpods, you wouldn’t be hearing every single sordid little sound she makes (gasps, sighs, moans and a bunch of phonetic mish-mash that began with the letter ‘o’). You can’t tell if she’s already lost to the haze of pleasure, and even if she hasn’t she’s probably holding on by a thread thinner than hair; on the way there and probably reaching within the next five minutes—“than to pound her little pussy raw and give her a fat load.”

“Oh my fucking god…” she’s descending a little further into her own head, sinking beneath the sheer thrill of masturbating while her partner reads out all the perverse things that people would do to her. Her breaths are almost desperate – earthy and kind of like a product of raw emotion; akin to a groan or maybe even a grunt. At the same time, it’s like she’s struggling to take in the air she needs, fighting to find a reason to take a breath and distract her from this debauched world that she’s dived into. It isn’t just her mind that’s twisted here, but the minds of others too.  “Keep going. I need to know how they’re gonna ruin me.”

You’re trying to memorise the next line so you can watch, watch the subtle twitch in her right leg and the grunt-moan hybrid that’s produced from that pleasure stricken throat; the way she becomes a bundle of nerves like you and just starts losing it; the way her fingers go from rubbing to fluttering small circles of heavenly release into her body; the way the round breast that’s slipped out of the robe ripples with each movement from her shoulder. You’re more than happy to watch really; be a witness to the act of her bringing herself to the point of no return as she practically brims with pleasure and bliss that she’s bringing herself. You’re reading is like an add-on, some sick twisted DLC if you really think about it (you’re not really thinking much, but it’s a fun thing to consider). It’s quite like making a drink, albeit a little bit butchered – she’s pouring herself a glass while you wipe the rim with a lemon. The alcohol can spill on your fingers for all you care, you just wanna watch her make it overflow. 

TL;DR: you really wanna make her cum.

“I’ll fuck her mouth while you take her pussy”—this one is read word-for-word, verbatim, letter-for-letter. You like how it’s phrased, not quite poetry but beautiful in its own way—“make her gag on this cock till she’s ruining her mascara. We cum together. Give this little slut the spit roast creampie of her life.”

She half-sigh-half-moans – the type of noise she’d make when she’s on her back and being fucked into the mattress. She shifts, undoes the knot holding her robe together and lets the thing part from the middle and falls at her sides. Leaning back against the end of the bathtub, her pleading comes in the form of whines, soft ones that kinda float around the room while she endeavours to work her fingers a little harder. A free hand kneads her breast. Your breath hitches, cock pulsing in your fist as she arches her back and starts to gasp. You read the next lines, the boner-fueled words of some guy who probably had his cock in his hand while typing this out.

“I want her ass. I’ll make her ride it while she takes it up that bubble butt, then you guys an still fuck her pussy and mouth. She’ll be so messy, probably dripping from her pussy and her mouth while three dicks fuck the shit out of all three of her holes. You know what? I bet she’ll enjoy it. The slut flaunts her body like it’s a fucking prize. She’s asking for it.” 

There are like 2 more comments, but you never quite make it to the next parts. With a cry, Nayeon leans forward in the bathtub. She digs her fingers back into her slit, restarts the squelching and lets your speakers flood with a sordid symphony; squelch after squelch after squelch feels like music to your ears.  “Your cock.” It’s a demand, really raunchy, kinda racy and really (and you really mean really) fucking raw. Can’t quite figure out which part of her strips her of the filter that takes away the pure intoxicating venom that coats her words, but you couldn’t really give more of a shit right now. It’s hot, like, really fucking hot. “Show me your cock. Let me see you stroke it.”

And it’s almost at once that you switch back to the call and flip your camera around. You’ve been going at the same tempo for some time now, and you hope Nayeon can see the utter mess she’s made of you – precum leaking from your tip and your head all swollen and red. She moans, slips another digit inside of her and starts working all three of her fingers harder inside of her. 

“Ngh… I really wish that I could be filled with your cock right now,” she drawls. You’re not too sure if she knows that she’s projecting a shared desire right now. It’d be great to feel those warm walls wrapped around your shaft, slicking it with her juices while she rides you at a steady pace. Fuck… She’s ruining you, isn’t she? “With me baby. Cum. Make a mess for me.”

Her words are a little jumbled, but coherence doesn't really matter when she’s spitting pure filth from her lips. It doesn’t take long for either of you to get there, but you like to think that you meet her where she already is and kinda just go from there. At least that’s what you tell yourself as she convulses and is marred by her orgasm, and your cum leaks down your shaft and flows over your knuckles while you watch Your respective cameras capture it all – witnesses the mess you make at the hands of each other (and yourselves). You have to take a second, sit in the warm puddle of your own mess. It’s pooled on your stomach; cleaning up’s gonna be a chore.

“God…” Nayeon breathes. “Always wanted to try this.”

“Guessed as much,” you reply, sitting up in your bed and looking around for tissues. You spot a box of them on your desk. Great.

“Gotta go. Be in touch soon.”

She leaves you in the darkness of your room. From the corner of your eye, you spot a set of eyes watching you from the ajar door. You make out Yuna’s features before she closes the door, no doubt fleeing the scene. You aren’t sure how much she saw, but you hope that whatever she did see hadn’t scared her shitless.

Anyway, there are larger issues at hand.

***

It’s somewhere on the third or fourth night where it happens. For the record: you don’t go to her. She comes to you.

Weather forecast predicted hail, and for once they’re actually correct. It’s pissing it down – the glass on your room not left unscathed from the assault of hail falling from the sky. It’s awfully noisy, helluva hullabaloo. Hard to sleep in this weather really. You warned Yuna—who seems to have gotten a little more comfortable around you—about the horrid weather that you guys were about to be blessed with, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s fairing alright.

The knock on your door comes around a quarter after one. Yuna steps into your room, her silky nightdress kinda glowing in the low light as she sort of just stands there awkwardly. It’s quite like a child entering their parents room in the middle of the night to inform them that they’ve shat the bed. You look at her from under the covers for a bit, and when she continues to be a deer in headlights, you sit up in your bed. “You okay?”

“I’m um…” she begins, fiddling with her fingers as she speaks. “I-It’s noisy… And…”

You understand what she’s attempting to convey. You move to your right in bed, open the covers and pat on the space you’ve left for her. She smiles, grateful. When she settles into the space where Nayeon usually sleeps, you tell her to holler if she needs anything else. You leave her with that, and your back faces her when you—by the grace of some divine powers—drift off.

You wake up again in the early morning. The sleep wasn’t bad – kinda peaceful and dreamless and you want to close your eyes and drift back off. Unfortunately (actually kinda fortunately in this case), Yuna’s legs entangled with yours snaps you awake. You’re worried that you might have rolled into her while you were asleep (you really didn’t want to fuck up again), but her arm around your torso tells you otherwise. She’s cuddled up to you, head against your back and hugging you like you’re her personal soft toy – the usual kind of cuddling. Frankly, you’re at a loss for words. What happens in between is kind of a blur. You remember her stirring, and you remember turning around as slowly and gently as possible. What you don’t quite remember however, is how she ends up with a hand on your cheek. You vaguely remember her asking for some sort of permission, but your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can’t really hear or process much. She’s in the most vulnerable of positions right now, and the worst thing you could possibly do is fuck up. Your mishaps from the first day have you on edge.

And now you’re running through the events again in your head, doing your best to pick up on critical exposition that probably would explain the situation you're in. Words fail you as Yuna’s thumb traces a path across your cheek, sweeping back and forth languidly with the smallest of smiles on her face. Her eyes—those hypnotic doleful eyes—stare into yours, and you’re sniffing out some longing behind that gaze. 

“Nayeon put in a really good word for you,” she whispers, letting her gaze wander across your face. “She said that you were a trustworthy man… Someone who’ll take care of anyone because you can.”

You’re happy to hear of Nayeon’s positive appraisal of you, but it doesn’t stop your bad habit of cracking a joke in tense situations. “And what’s the customer’s review?”

You’re glad that she laughs. If she didn’t, you’d have to expand your list to include a 14th reason. 

“She told me to trust you and that I can feel safe around you,” she reports. She takes a moment to bring her eyes back to yours. Her smile grows wider. “I’m happy to say that I do… Largely.”

And all at once: a two tonne weight around your chest feels like it just dropped a twenty-story height. You aren’t sure if Yuna’s giggling because of the fact that you’re visibly relieved or because you heaved the loudest sigh of relief of your career.

“Man… I thought I’d completely fucked up after the first day,” you admit to her, relishing the feeling of your body relaxing in bed. “Never quite got to apologise for that.”

“And you don’t have to”—her smile is quite soothing to be honest, puts you right at ease after looking at it for a second or two— “I was just kinda shocked��� And I kinda have a bad experience of being yelled at. Working on it though.”

Huh. Guess Nayeon was right about her.

“Still though,” you raise, rubbing your eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

Yuna chortles. Her lips slant at an angle. “Forgiven and forgotten. Happy?”

You smile in response to the progress. “Hey. You go girl.”

She graces you with a wink. A moment of silence follows. 

“Did Nayeon ask you to be touchy with me?” you can’t help but inquire. It’s out of the blue, but hey: a burning question is a burning question. “I mean… It’s not everyday that a cute girl just pulls up in my bed and caresses my cheek.”

“She said that you’ll be fine”—she retracts the hand on your cheek. The two tonne weight starts rising to the 5th floor—“and are you flirting with me?”

(Two tonne weight falls. Phew… What a workout.)

“Maybe.” You don’t really like being blunt cause there’s always some merit in a bit of playing around. Now that you think back on it, you may or may not have picked this up from Nayeon. Damn girl is ruining you. “Take it how you want, just don’t think I’m being sarcastic.”

Yuna smirks a little. “Nayeon did say you like to play around with your words,” she lifts a finger and points away from the bed, “not sure if she influenced you,” she points towards you,  “or if you influenced her”.

“What if we’re both a little guilty?”

“Then I’ll be the outlier. Can I kiss you?”

And it feels like time stops. For the seconds that you stare at her in silence, one brain cell exerts maximum fucking effort to process the weight of her words. You wouldn’t have been as hesitant if she’d just kissed you directly, but now that she’s asking for consent first, you’re high-key at a loss for words. The sun’s starting to rise and the room’s being filled with this sorta radiant glow… Or maybe it’s just her.

“Woah,” you can’t help but muse. Of course, you’re exaggerating by quite a bit. “You are… Super blunt.”

“Figured you could use a change of pace.”

Then Yuna closes the distance between the two of you. She hesitates for a little, hovering over your lips for a bit before she finally decides to press her lips onto yours. It’s kinda sweet; her lips feel amazing and she’s really going down on you. You comb your hands through her hair, let the smell of sweet shampoo kinda intoxicate you a little while she tugs at your lower lip with her teeth. Unlike Nayeon, it feels like she’s kissing you because she wants to. The older girl sometimes makes it feel like she’s doing it for the sake of it, and then proceeds to tear through your clothes to get to your dick. Yuna takes her time, lets her hand on your face get familiar with the structure of your jaw as fingers graze them gently; introduces her index finger and thumb to your chin as she tips it to deepen the kiss a little.

“Hey,” she calls once the kiss is broken. She’s glowing in the light of the room, the smile on her face pretty fucking adorable. “Did Nayeon ever tell you that I look the best when I take it from the back?”

Again: super fucking blunt.

Clothes are never a hassle when you’re kinda in a rush, and Yuna’s night dress slips right off her body like the plate she dropped from the tray. You have her on her back, kinda half-mewing-half-keening as you catch a nipple in your mouth and suck on on it. The toned muscles on her stomach tense and relax, the rapid ebb and flow of pleasure in her system making her body move in all sorts of sensual ways as you palm her other breast.

And here’s the thing you like about Yuna: she lets you take her time with her, really revels in the sweetness of the moment while your trailing kisses down to her crotch. She moans for you – sweet music that tells you yeah that’s the spot while you acquaint and familiarise yourself with her body; she shifts herself accordingly – rolls to her side when you were kissing her plunging collarbones and opens her legs for you when you get to that pretty, pink pussy. It’s like she’s wired to please you, responding to your every move with a move of her own like you’re locked in a dance with her. It’s a welcome change of pace from having to fight and dirty talk your way to even get the chance to fuck Nayeon.

(In case you’re wondering: you do eat her out, but you kinda get lazy to really put into words. All you need to know are these few key points:

Firstly, she’s delicious, sweet and salty and kinda tangy. A bit of a subjective taste but you like it.

Secondly, her moans are really fucking adorable. They’re not even, like, purposefully made that way. She just kinda lets them flow from her mouth – choked-up cries of pleasure while warm thighs wrap around your ears. 

Lastly, when she cums, it’s fucking amazing. It’s like she brings heaven down to earth with her cries and makes sure you get to touch it as much as she can. Her body is fucking riveting – arches deliciously when she arrives and makes you twitch in your pants.

Bottom line: she’s really fucking hot, quite like Nayeon in the way she tries you on sometimes but patient and actually giving you the chance to talk dirty with her. Damn… She really is a change of pace.)

And so: reaching between your bodies with her on all fours, you grasp your cock in your right hand, slipping it between Yuna’s legs. The young woman spreads her thighs as best she can – readies herself for entry. Your head pushes between her lips, waiting for only a moment, before you thrust hard inside her, filling her to the hilt with your cock. She’s awfully tight, really fucking wet and God is it hot in there. You almost think molten iron seems to be brewing in her core.

“Tell me,” she huffs, a sly smile on her face as she props herself up on her elbows. “Am I better? Or is Nayeon still the best?”

You caress the swell of her ass. “Baby… I think you’ll be the best fuck I’ll have in a while.”

It’s almost cruel: the way you kinda just start thrusting without any warning. She likes it though, and you only know because she possesses the bluntness to do so.

“God you’re fucking big.” And her ass ripples with each thrust you deliver into that slick little pussy of her’s. “Fuck… How does Nayeon even manage you?”

(The thing you like about her is how she asks a question like it was some sort of objective statement – not a rhetorical question, just something for you to respond to.)

You fuck her harder in response to that, kinda push yourself all the way into her. The tip of your cock slams against her cervix and her cries ring throughout your room. Your room fills with the sort of visceral sound one would associate with skin slapping against skin. There are definitely some more words to be shared during sex – the girl has a little more things she wants to get off her chest, but what the whole exchange boils down to is a back and forth of her gasping and crying out and saying you’re the best dick she'll ever get and you telling her you love the feel of her little cunt.

(It's really not like you're trying to prove something by being super rough. Yuna just happens to really, really like the feel of a thick cock pounding into her. Maybe Nayeon was right – her taking it from the back was a good idea.

Or maybe she's just a slut.

Who knows?)

"Yeah," you growl. You reach forward and grab a handful of her hair, pull her body against yours. "Take my cock baby."

"I can take it," she gasps, the breath knocked out of her. Her fingers curl against the bedsheets and she's just taking your cock. She's a lot easier to please than Nayeon – less stubborn about being in control, but also much, much more willing to please. "Oh God, fuck me, please..."

You slam deep inside her. Her body jerks forward and the sound that comes from her mouth is a mix between a cry and a gasp. "Please what?"

"Fuck me harder," she says. She's practically begging for it. "Make me cum. Please, please make me cum!"

Taking up her request is all you really wanna do. She didn’t need to add the multiple pleads, but you took some pleasure in hearing it.

You grab ahold of her shoulders, pull her close till she's almost upright. "You're gonna cum around my dick," you growl. You start a series of rapid, hard thrusts and her body goes limp in your arms. "And you're gonna make a mess of yourself."

She nods frantically. She's a mess already, all sweaty and red. The sounds that leave her mouth are incoherent. With two fingers pressing hard and directly against her clit, you start circling on it, making her a complete fucking wreck in the middle of your room as you really try to get her off. There's a sweet spot you find after a moment – the pad of your digits slipping around the nub and her knees give, almost making her buckle until she's flat on her stomach on the bed, crying and shaking as you use her like a toy.

"Please... Fuck... Don't stop, oh God don't stop!" Her cries are like a prayer to you. You've never heard anything like it. You fuck her right through it, watching as her back arches and her legs twitch, until she's almost completely gone. There's only a little bit more left. She just needs a little extra push.

So you decide to go a little hard. You hold her by her hips, keep her legs shut, and thrust directly down onto her pussy with a force you'd only reserve for someone like Nayeon. Her eyes roll back in her head as you really take her like you've wanted to ever since you started; it's almost animalistic how you really try to get her to cum as hard as she can. You can almost feel her orgasm build up in her body. Her breathing grows shorter and more erratic and she's mewling in her throat – so close. You can taste it.

"You like my cock don't you?" You reach around, give her tits a squeeze. She almost cums from that.

"Yes," she whimpers. You know she's not playing the part – she genuinely wants your dick. "Please... Let me cum on your cock..."

(You don’t admit it verbally, but you like it when girls beg. Nayeon never does, and it’s a novelty now that she’s doing it.)

You hold her down with an arm on her lower back. Her head's to the side, hair plastered to her skin with sweat as you fuck her from behind. She's panting and whining, begging you for more; “please please more”. You like that. It's cute. You wanna hear it. So you go harder. She screams into the sheets, but the sounds are muffled, but she's pretty loud nonetheless. It's good to see her let go like this, really let loose and not hold anything back. There's a fire that she ignites inside you. "Fuck..."

It's like a little fire that ignites and grows bigger, burns brighter with each thrust. She's so tight and so fucking wet; the wet sounds that accompany each thrust really turns you on. Your body feels so hot. There's this warmth that spreads across your entire body with every passing second. She moans and cries, whimpering as you nail her into the sheets.

Then there's this moment of clarity that hits her, and she looks back at you – she smiles, eyes half-lidded and she whispers something to you.

"Cum inside me," she says. She's shaking. "Please..."

Your rhythm grows sloppy as you edge closer and closer to the climax. Your cock feels like it's growing harder, bigger – there's this throb in it and your body's all tensed up. It feels like something inside you is going to snap, break loose and make you cum. It's not the best feeling in the world, but the way it grows stronger and stronger really makes your toes curl and your skin tingle.

And she's so beautiful like this: spread out for you, skin sweaty, cheeks red, and ass in the air as you fuck her. It's the best way you can ever imagine her – she looks like she belongs to you like this, her body a playground for your lust, and she wants it just as much as you do. There's a mutual feeling between the two of you.

The pleasure comes and it hits you like a train. It feels like something inside your balls tighten and then snap and then there's this euphoria that envelopes you. You feel your cock pulse with every burst of semen that spurts from the head. Yuna cries as her pussy gets filled and filled, until it's running out and dripping from her cunt, but you can't stop fucking her. You want to feel that sweet, sweet release, to see how long it will go, to really enjoy this moment. She feels amazing, and your heart pounds and you want her so badly. You need her.

She cums — It's a hard, shuddering orgasm that wracks her body. She cums and she screams for you, and she makes a mess of herself as promised. It's really fucking hot – the way she completely loses her composure and her legs shudder violently as you pound her pussy through it all, soaking in the perverted pleasure she brings you while you fuck her freshly-creamed pussy till your hips kinda give. You collapse on her, panting and grunting on top of her while she struggles to breathe.

In this moment. She isn’t like Nayeon in the slightest.

She’s a welcome change of pace. 

***

“Thinking back… There were signs in highschool that I probably ignored.”

And the water sloshes around as Yuna shifts a little in the bathtub. She’s found it to her liking to prop herself up against you, let her head rest against your shoulder while you hold her close to your chest. You’ll admit that it’s a bit of an awkward arrangement, but there was no way you could just not indulge her after she asks to take a bath with you. 

“The worst part is that they weren’t even, like, subtle,” she tells you, just sort of staring out into the distance while she talked.  “He’d punch things when he got angry, even slapped a referee after he lost a game… Love is blind huh?”

You held her a little closer to your chest. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah, well, my mistakes left me with no physical scars but the emotional ones are plenty.”

You hope she can’t see you grimace. It’s hard to recover from these types of things, especially if you realise the stupidity behind your decisions.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you tell her, and you really mean it. “It must be difficult… You know: recovering.”

The front of her lips curve up. “Thanks. I try not to let it weigh me down too much but… Just kinda happens to come out every now and then.”

You get it, you really do. Not that you’ve been in an abusive relationship like hers before, but you understand what it’s like. It’s sad really: being unable to break out of a cycle that hurts you the more you try to stay and change it. You admire the young girl’s strength, envy her courage for finally breaking the cycle and freeing herself for good. 

“You’re safe now,” you whisper, moving some wet hair out of her face. “I will never hurt you. I promise.”

She smiles at that. “Thank you,” she says while pinching your cheek, “that means a lot to me.”

Then you bask in the silence for a little, taking in the smell of the bath salts and the feel of Yuna’s soft skin against yours. It’s a pretty romantic moment till Yuna’s bluntness breaks it.

“I’m, like, really wet,” she announces, gazing up at you from her position on your shoulder. You laugh. 

“Didn’t you just cum?”

“Good things come in threes.”

She fixes you with a look, like she knows that you’re gonna give in.

(And you know what? She’s absolutely right. Can’t say no to a pretty girl.)

***

“Well hello to you too.”

Nayeon sounds almost angry on the other side of the video call. On your end, you have your phone’s back camera pointed to the current situation: Yuna atop of you, thighs locked around your cock as her hips rock up and down steadily. Her thighs are warm, pillowy; makes you grit your teeth while she moves languidly.

“Nayeon!” Yuna exclaims, almost too saccharine as she keeps her eyes locked on yours. “We were just thinking of you.”

She isn’t lying. Just moments before her call came, you two were making a joke about how she’d never let you get away with as much as Yuna did. It was a pretty humorous conversation, almost comedic if it wasn’t for the fact that Yuna was tugging your sweats down your thighs. 

But, there she was, still moving in your lap. Yuna leans forward, hands planted on your chest as she continues to rock her hips, ass bouncing a little against your thighs.

You can hear a scoff from Nayeon.

Yuna turns her head to the screen, eyes looking at the phone but her hands still pushing on your chest, fingers flexing. "We really were," she whines, lips jutted into a pout. You watch her as her lips curl into a small smirk just a second later, her teeth peeking out, and you can feel your face grow warm when she looks back at you.

"Tell her what we were talking about," she orders, her voice soft but firm.

"Um...we were just, um—" you stutter out, and your throat goes dry as her hips keep going, her thigh muscles clenching around you.

"Go on."

"We were...just, uh, talking about how you're not here," you finally manage to get out.

"Aww, baby...” Nayeon is smiling. It’s sarcasm by the way; she's enjoying this as much as Yuna is.

Yuna's pout returns. "See, Nayeon?" She continues to roll her hips against you. "We were thinking of you,” she reiterates, making sure she has your eye contact while she fucks you with her heavenly thighs, “I know it's not fair that you aren't here, but he’s just so fucking hard… Someone had to do something about it.”

Nayeon gives a snort. “You two are lucky I’m not alone in my room right now.”

“And what would happen if you were?” Yuna challenges. You don’t recall her being this daring.

“Playing with myself, obviously,” the older girl replies. “You think I’d just watch you get him off with your thighs? I barely let that boy dominate me.”

Yuna chuckles and smiles your way.

“What a horrible situation,” she whispers, moving a little faster. “Luckily I’m here to pamper him.”

“And he’d better enjoy it while it lasts,” Nayeon smirks. “When I’m home he’s–”

Yuna cuts her off by hanging up. You stare wide-eyed in shock as she tosses the phone aside. “Too noisy. I can’t multitask,” she explains. “Call her back later. Let’s get back to it.”

With that, Yuna leans over you, her chest pressed to yours as she gives a slow grind in your lap, her hips moving in a figure eight. Your head rolls back, and you release a loud, drawn-out groan. Her thighs are so smooth against your cock, so warm, so soft. You wish you could bury your face in between them. The way her hips move is incredible; she knows what she wants, knows how to work you.

You try to sit up, but Yuna pushes you back down by your chest. Her lips curve into a smile, and she shakes her head.

"Stay down," she whispers, "you don't wanna ruin this, do you?"

"No."

"Then stay still. I'll make it quick."

Quick is an understatement. She's barely rocking her hips in your lap, but with how soft her thighs are, and the way they grip you like a vice, you know it'll probably be over sooner or later. You make a note to try and make this last for as long as you can. Yuna leans over you again, hands on your chest as she gives a rough buck of her hips. Your head snaps back and you let out a loud groan. She continues to grind against you, slowly, making sure to hit every sensitive part of your cock. You reach up to grab her hips, but she slaps your hands away.

"No touching," she tuts. "Let me do the work. You relax."

Your lips open to protest. She shushes you with a finger. 

"Own me later," she whispers, sliding the finger down to the point where your collar bones meet. "Let me take care of you now."

You gulp, nodding.

Yuna's hands settle back on your chest, nails dragging across your skin, making you shiver. She's looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty pink lips curled into a smirk as her hips pick up pace. The friction is incredible; Yuna's thighs feel like silk wrapped around your cock, warm and soft; the way they're clamped around you has you seeing stars. Your breath hitches in your throat when Yuna moves faster.

(And another thing about her: she’s so fucking good at pleasuring you that she always makes you lose your ability to think.)

"Fuck..." You moan, throwing your head back. "Feels so good..."

She smiles at that, giving a small hum of approval. "Does it?" She asks. "Good."

You look up at her, watching her roll her hips. She's really putting in work, moving in all sorts of ways to make sure you're feeling the most pleasure. It's not lost on you; she's an angel, and you thank every god there is for having her. Your cock throbs between her thighs, aching. The head is flushed red and leaking precum, which smears all over Yuna's thighs as she keeps moving. Your toes curl in the sheets, fingers gripping the fabric as she rides you.

Yuna continues to roll her hips, giving a few rough bucks when she feels like it. You're groaning and moaning under her, letting out all kinds of sounds that make her chuckle. She's having fun teasing you, getting you close to orgasm only to slow down and watch your face contort with pleasure.

"Don't cum yet," she says softly, running her hands over your chest. "We just started."

"I-I know," you reply, breathless. "But I...fuck..."

Yuna giggles. "That good?"

"Yeah. Fuck… don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby."

You throw your head back, your hips twitching under hers. Yuna chuckles, keeping her thighs locked around you. Your cock aches, throbbing between them as she moves; precum drips onto her legs, which only makes the slide easier for her. You're starting to sweat; your body's temperature rises with each passing moment, the feeling of her thighs overwhelming you. Yuna's so warm against you, so soft and pliable; you can't help but imagine her underneath you, moaning and writhing as you fuck her. The thought has you bucking your hips up into her, causing her to gasp.

"Someone's eager," Yuna teases, running a hand through her hair. "What's going through your head?"

You groan in response, your hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. "Nothing," you lie.

She snorts, knowing full well what's on your mind.

"Liar." She rocks her hips forward. "What are you thinking about?"

You gaze at her for a moment. "If I said you... Would you believe me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Wouldn't put it past you," she stops moving for a bit to give you the attention. "What are you doing to me in your head?"

"I never said–"

"Please," she interjects "We both know you want to bend me over the nearest fucking surface and fuck my brains out right now."

Her thighs start moving again. Your head falls back and a moan escapes you.

"Can you blame me?" You say. She smiles.

"No, not really. I am pretty hot anyway."

(There’s that little bit of Nayeon in her.)

You nod. "You're so fucking good to me." You manage to get out.

Yuna chuckles. "Wanna know something?"

"What?"

"I love the way you feel between my thighs," she tells you. "And I love how you sound when I'm making you feel good. I want to hear more of it."

With that, she leans forward, pressing her lips to yours. Her hips keep moving, rolling against you at an agonizing pace, causing you to moan against her mouth. She's quite literally giving you everything you want, injecting some mischief here and there that makes it feel like Nayeon possesses her sporadically. She's more gentle though, more kind and more caring too. Okay, not that Nayeon doesn't care, but she's kinda ruthless when she's horny. Yuna's much more caring, and a lot more willing to be a pillow princess. She likes being pampered. She likes being loved on and adored. She wants to be fucked and she wants to be taken care of. It's a mutual feeling between the two of you. You'll worship her, and she'll love you for it.

Yuna pulls away from the kiss, moving to your neck. She gives it a few open-mouthed kisses, nipping at your skin. You sigh, letting your head fall back. She continues to rock her hips against yours, grinding down onto your cock. Her hands slide up your chest, nails digging into your skin, eliciting a gasp from you. 

Yuna chuckles, kissing up your neck to your ear. "You're so big," she whispers. "So fucking thick... Feels so good."

You groan, fingers gripping her hips.

"You like that?" She asks. "Like me talking about your cock?"

You nod.

"I love it," and she talks with a purr. "Love how it feels inside me... How deep it goes... How hard it throbs..." She whispers—no. Moans all this right into your ear. "Fuck... I really want this thing inside me right now."

"Later," you quickly propose. "Please?"

She laughs — sweet and melodic. "Never said that I would put it inside of me," she reminds you. "Now, you zip up and make a mess for me, okay?"

You moan in response, nodding your head. You can't deny her, not when she's making you feel this good.

Yuna keeps moving against you, her thighs clenching around your cock. She moves slowly, her hips rolling at an agonizing pace. Your cock is aching; you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax with each passing second.  Your eyes are glued to her thighs, watching them move. She looks so good on top of you. Her hips are hypnotic; your mind spins as she fucks you.

Your eyes move up to her face. Her eyes are closed, lips parted slightly as she focuses on her movements. Her hands are still on your chest, fingers flexing. Her breathing is heavy, warm breath fanning over your skin. You take in her beauty, letting it consume you. She's so fucking perfect, so angelic. Hard to believe how much of a slut she can be.

"I'm close," you manage to get out. "Yuna..."

She smiles. "Go ahead, baby."

"Don't wanna make a mess." You say.

Yuna giggles, her hips picking up pace. "Too late for that."

That's what sends you over the edge. 

You cum; it’s fucking messy. 

Cum fills the space between your dick and her thighs, slathering and flowing and spurting onto everything it can possibly get on. It slicks the insides of her legs; gets on her ass a little and pools beneath her crotch. Yuna hums in satisfaction, a smile on her face as she turns behind her to survey the damage.

“Clean up on aisle four,” she mutters, reaching back to wipe some cum off her ass. She sends her fingers into her mouth – makes a big show of sucking them clean. You can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight.

“Hey,” you call her, your hands reaching down to grope her ass. “I’m planning to change the sheets tomorrow.”

She gives you a look. “Are you saying that cause you’re actually going to? Or because you just want to fuck me right now.”

Oh and she’s perceiving you almost too accurately. You won’t admit your answer, even to yourself. 

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Either way: we’ll have to change the sheets.”

Yuna matches your game.

“Call Nayeon back,” she instructs. “Let’s show her what she’s missing.”

***

Again: Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it really.

The decision—for today—was made somewhere halfway through the drive to fetch Yuna. You were just talking about how Nayeon had picked that girl up, and her voice trails off as she passes the exit sign. She just keeps on driving while pretending to look like she’s in the right. The GPS doesn’t lie though: it keeps on promoting her to U-turn at every opportunity that’s available to her. She ignores it of course, kinda tunes it out even though the instructions are really getting annoying now (and not to mention it sounds like it’s demanding her to go back this instant, like a mum who just can’t get her kid to listen). It’s like how she ignores you lately.

“She’s probably gonna think we crashed or something,” you muse, lurching in your seat a little as she takes a left. “We’re like, what, fifteen minutes late or something?”

“Nah,” Nayeon quickly refutes. She stops to let a BMW swerve around the corner before she gently taps on the gas. “She’s probably still packing her things,” the turning signal clicks at a steady tempo, stops after she takes the 3rd exit on the roundabout, “maybe even settling a bit of her make up or whatever.”

This is the most she’s spoken since her return.

You hazard a glance at the GPS. The blue line leading you back to your intended destination only grows longer, sometimes glitching a little as the turn of Nayeon’s car gives it the illusion that you’re heading back when she’s really just turning into a one way street. You can’t tell if she knows where she’s going or if she’s just throwing out random bullshit.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbles, casting a rather nasty glance your way. “I’m just taking a shortcut. That’s all.”

(Is it not painfully obvious where this is going?)

And a few minutes later, she’s got you gritting your teeth in the backseat of her car. No smug remarks from her — she has your balls in her mouth and she’s getting real sloppy in some alley she’s parked in. You don’t know where to begin, where to find solid reasoning for what you’re witnessing and feeling right now. It’s pretty fucking asinine (and she probably knows that it is) and damn straight goes against all branches of logic. In no world does she have a valid reason for being this horny at 11am on a Saturday.

(Actually, there’s one reason: she just feels like it.)

“You do know that we’re both astronomically fucked if anyone so much as glances our way.” You’re ashamed to admit that this actually has you hissing, partly out of annoyance and partly out of pleasure. “You’re fucking ridiculous. I hope you know that.”

Nayeon spits on your cock. Her hands close into a fist around your shaft, her eyes almost empty as she spreads her saliva in a close to even layer over you. “Are you quite done?” She asks. The emptiness in her voice is kinda scary. It makes her sound exasperated, like she’s sick of your reasonings. “You know, you talk an awful lot for someone who literally writhes when I quite fucking literally touch your cock. Don’t act tough on me. We both know who you are. We both know you’re my toy.”

Figuring out if this is part of the bit is the hardest part of your predicament. She plays too much as of late: with her eyes, her tone, her facial expressions… Sometimes it makes you wonder if she really keeps you around just to satisfy her cock cravings or if she really wants you around. Ever since she’s gotten back, it feels like she’s been fucking you and Yuna with nothing but pure hate. You feel it in her eyes, in the violent buck of her hips when she rides you or even in the way she spanks Yuna with a little too much glee. It confounds you; admittedly: you’re petrified of the possibility that she’s straight up jealous of how your relationship with Yuna’s been going since she roped her into this mess.

You can’t help it. You need to know.

You grab her by the wrist, a little harder than you’d like but it’ll have to do. “Stop,” and you don’t mean to be assertive, but it’s all you can summon now. “I need you to answer me honestly.”

In the passenger-side seat, Nayeon fixes her gaze on yours. She tries to struggle from your grasp; you keep a firm grip.

“What are we?” you ask, straightforward; direct. You’ve been with Yuna enough times to know that this’ll elicit an honest response from her. “Cause it just feels like I’m just your piece of meat to fuck and own. We don’t talk, you don’t even look at me when we go to sleep… What are we Nayeon?”

And it makes her freeze. Your sincerity is scary to her — ropes her into your thoughts more than you usually do. She’s silent, face blanker than paper. Her fingers on the hand that you’ve got in your grasp curl a little. “We’re just fuck buddies… That’s all.”

You just stare at her for a second, soak in the weight of that statement. “Then why does it feel like you’re jealous of Yuna?”

“I’m not. What are you even…” You can tell she’s surprised — her eyes do that thing where they widen, and then she blinks. Your question is loaded to her: it catches her in a place where she’s made privy to the fact that her emotions are more out there and perceptible than she’d like.

You raise an eyebrow. “Come on… We both know that’s not true.”

Her plump lips purse. She looks away for a moment.

“And what would you do if I said I was jealous?” she raises. “Kick her out? Stop fucking her?”

She raises a valid argument. Frankly, you didn’t bring this up with the end goal of sorting this out. You just wanted the older girl to accept her emotions, maybe acknowledge that it’s a little petty and then kinda just move on. Of course, nothing with Nayeon is ever really that simple.

“You’re the one that brought her into this,” you remind her, partly because you feel like she isn’t acknowledging her fault in this situation and partly because you have nothing else to say.

She rips her hand away. “So it’s my fault then?”

“What?” you sit up a little in your seat. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Her eyes sear your soul with her frustration. This hurts her more than you think. “I’m saying we’re both a little guilty here,” you clarify. “We both have a part to play in how you feel, so maybe we should just talk this out.”

She goes quiet. Too quiet considering the circumstance.

“Later.” She decides. “I think better with a load inside of me.”

***

So to reiterate: they're similar but kinda different. 

“Jesus… Did you really have to get it on my dress?” Nayeon’s clearly pissed. The wet wipe in her hand rubs at the stain of her dress furiously, as if the aggressive motion will kinda just get it out magically. Yuna retires into your arms, her sweat-matted hair sticking to your chest a little. The syntax behind how you got to this point is more complicated that you’d care to elaborate on, but let’s just say: Nayeon was happier a second ago…

(Okay but to be fair: her dress was in the way when you pulled out. So it’s like, half your fault, but you like to play the victim.)

“Relax,” Yuna assures her senior. “It’ll wash right off.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue in annoyance. “You stop defending him. He knows what he’s done.”

Yuna giggles. She smiles up at you. “Yeah… He does.”

They don’t know it, but they’ve got a pretty good dynamic going: Mother-daughter; Spicy and Sweet; Sour Cream and Onion. They contrast, diverge; but they compliment each other almost perfectly. 

(It’s no family reunion; but it’s dinner and diatribes from here on out.)

—

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Hope you will be full of joy and fulfill your dreams next year!

Anyway! This is lokwey the start of a series where I just kinda explore more filthy and complicated things, stuff that’s just not quite right but somehow works. I won’t be following the same idols and people, so this isn’t exactly an interlinked series. Hard to explain but you guys can just come to your own conclusions really.

~Nichu

[archangeldyke-all]

Consider the following cuz I think it's funny:

Sevika with a gf who's just... Kinda dumb? Just kinda ditzy and airheaded and it's kind of a miracle that she's still in one piece. Just a bit of a bimbo but goddamn does she love Sevika with everything she has.

-🌙

okay as a blonde who definitely has my fair share of Blonde Moments i love this l;askdjflskj

men and minors dni

sevika loves you so much.

so much.

she would kill for you. she would die for you. she would even wear matching pajamas with you-- that's how much she adores you.

that being said... sevika has to admit that sometimes you can be a little... clueless...

you aren't stupid! you're constantly reading and learning, watching documentaries and sharing interesting scientific facts with sevika. you're a whiz in the kitchen, always making delicious meals and treats, and you're incredible with couponing and keeping your grocery bill within budget. in sevika's eyes, you're one of the smartest people she knows...

but... sometimes...

sometimes, you can be a bit of a ditz.

you're horrible with directions. sevika's watched in horror many times while you hook a right, completely confident that you're headed left.

"babe, the bar's this way."

"you said left!"

"use your hands, babe..."

"...oh." you mumble, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment as you turn around and start headed the correct way. sevika cackles and wraps an arm around you.

"where would you be without me?"

"wandering by the docks, probably."

"the docks are south of here, babe."

"yeah, south." you say, pointing east. sevika groans.

she gifted you a compass keychain for your birthday that year.

you struggle with spelling.

you love to leave sevika little love notes-- and she adores them! but sometimes, your notes have the unintended consequence of making sevika cackle while she tries to interpret your unique spelling. 'sevika, i've never been able to be so intimidate with somebody before...'

she teases you for the rest of the night about how intimidating you are together.

sometimes, sevika really wonders how you made it through life without her there.

like when you're behind the bar at the last drop making change for a twenty, and you hand the customer six fives.

"baby, that's thirty!" sevika squawks, smacking your hand before you can hand the man the money."

"what? no, babe, six times five." you say, scoffing and rolling your eyes.

"six times five is thirty, baby." sevika says slowly.

you groan and bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. sevika giggles and wraps you up in a hug, handing the man four bills and kissing your scalp.

"i'm an idiot." you groan.

"sometimes, yeah." sevika agrees. you gasp and elbow her, glaring at her. sevika giggles. "but the rest of the time you're smart! and i'm usually here to help before you can get yourself into any dumb trouble..."

"whatever. you're dumb too!" you say, pointing at sevika. she laughs.

"i am not!"

"you thought i hated you for months before we started going out." you say. sevika cackles.

"i didn't get why you kept looking at me!"

"'cause you're hot!"

sevika grins. "okay, i'm a little dumb emotionally. good thing i got you to balance me out, huh?" she asks.

you grin and kiss her. "you bet your ass."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[xyfanficarchive]

headcanons: calling up your mouthwashing bf to come over when you’re sick <3

because i’m sick.

ft. curly, jimmy, and daisuke

its my first time writing daisuke… idk brother but i had ideas for him so

Curly:

-this sweet, loving man is on the scene to come to your aid asap. like it’s his destiny to be your sicknurse. he loves being there to care for you

-he shows up with everything: warm blankets, hes got cold and flu medicine, he brought your favourite sweater of his for you to wear, little snacks, a thermometer to take your temperature

-if you’re lucky, he asked his mum to make soup, and he brought a serving or two. the man can’t really cook. he had a lovely mother who fed him and then spent way too much time in space eating prepackaged meals and slop assembled from gelatin water and sweetener.

-but her soup is not something you can just whip up really fast; so if not, he’ll try cooking anyways - an easy recipe. pre made broth cartons and all that. might even go for the pre packaged dry soup sachets. he’s aware of his culinary shortcomings. but it’s made with the utmost love.

-he does make a great cup of tea. nice, warm, and sweet to soothe your sore throat.

-he’s typically a well dressed man but he shows up in comfy clothes. he’s ready to lock down and cuddle with you for as long as you need, on the bed, or on the couch watching a movie, something lighthearted and low stakes. he’s a furnace, theres no better man to lie with when you’re shivering from the fever and cant get warm.

-he’ll gently massage your achey body, the man has magic hands, you feel so much better.

-when the fever breaks and you’re sweaty and flushed he’s there to help strip you out of the thick layers and dab cool water on your face and neck and chest

-he knows he’s gonna get sick. but he doesn’t mind that much, its all worth it to be there and to show you how much he cares <3

Jimmy:

-not gonna lie, his first thought is “what the fuck, i don’t wanna get sick, i can’t afford that shit.” he almost doesn’t want to come. cause when he gets sick, he always has to weather the sickness all alone.

-he doesn’t eat that well on earth. so maybe he’s a lil malnourished, his immune system isn’t the strongest. when he gets sick he’s fucking down for the count.

-but he zips it up, and thinking for a second more he realizes that he was the first one you called for help and comfort and he just. pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs. “…just hang on, I’ll be right there.” he does care about you, when it comes down to it.

-and imagine your surprise when you amble weakly to the door and he’s there, with a bottle of nyquil and, a bag of vegetables, some pasta, and is that a whole uncooked chicken?! he dug deep into his coffers to get ingredients to make you real chicken soup. if that doesnt show you how much jimmy loves you idk what will.

-he’s no 5 star chef, but he can cook pretty well. he can follow a recipe no problem. there were a lot of “fend for yourself” nights growing up. sometimes he’d even save his own money as a kid to buy ingredients to make a real proper meal.

-(and also slaving away over the stove for hours gives him an excuse to keep his distance as much as possible, man does not want to get infected.)

-he’s still gonna sit with you, let you lay your head on his lap while he waits for the soup to all simmer together. stroking your hair while you’re under a pile of blankets, both watching nothing tv just to pass the time and fill the silence. you can kinda smell the soup, what you can smell is rich and delicious

-you both eat his incredible hearty nourishing soothing soup and cuddle on the couch when you start getting cold. and when he starts thinking it’s time to leave he realizes you fell asleep on his chest. fuck, i guess he’s stuck now.

-he really, really hopes you’ll return the favour in a week’s time when he’s sick as a dog. (you better go nurse that man and make him feel so cared for)

Daisuke:

-the man is thrilled. hes like AWWW YEAH DAISUKE TO THE RESCUE COMING TO NURSE MY BOO BACK TO HEALTH. he’s so happy you asked him for help. he’s determined to make you feel better.

-he really does the absolute most. he pulls up with like, several different kinds of medicine, he’s got games and movies to pass the time, he’s got so many snacks and junk food. he was at the store thinking, what food always makes me feel better? and filled his cart. there was a get well soon balloon at the checkout line so you know he bought it last second.

-he’s a little. much. he’s just enthusiastic about making you feel better. he’s going through the whole laundry list of everything he brought while your sluggish sick brain is in circles trying to keep up. and not gonna lie, you’re a little too fatigued to play video games.

-so you’re lying there next to him under the blankets watching him play video games and munching on like. chips and candy and stuff. coughing and dripping from your nose. kinda drifting in and out of sleep. he’s doing his very best to keep it down. but just being near him is so comforting.

-eventually. the junk food just is not cutting it. and your mouth kinda hurts from the hard salty snacks and your tongue is coated from the candy. “daisuke, baby… did you bring any real food?” and you sound all weak and hoarse and youre aching all over. he’s like. OH, shit. yah i guess chips arent the most nourishing food for when youre sick huh…. he sits there thinking for a moment and then the lightbulb goes off

-“hold on babe, i know just the thing, i’ll be right back!!” and he rushes out. on the way to the grocery store again he’s calling up his mom like MAMA how do you make that soup you gave me when i was sick as a kid???

-he comes back and whips up estrellita soup in no time, because its just like, chicken broth and some salt and little star pasta. and he looks so damn pleased handing you the bowl. how the fuck can you feel bad when he’s smiling like that over this bowl of tiny little stars.

-he’s so happy watching you eat his childhood sick soup. he spends the night, all he wants is to make you feel better, he doesnt even think once about getting sick himself.

[reidingandallthat]

rambling just to you (s.r)

spencer thinks you mind his rambling, and you tell him just how wrong he is

spencer reid x reader words: 2.4k cw: fluff, uhh first time writing for spence so pls spare me, lots and lots (too much) infodumping, reader is described kind of as a social person and a people pleaser, self deprecating talk(just for a while, it gets all good)

You've taken it upon yourself your entire life to keep a conversation going. Maybe the other person doesn't wanna talk, but it's too awkward to not say anything so you keep the conversation going. Maybe you haven't talked in a while, or maybe they're giving you dry responses, you still go off on a story of yours, only to a limit of course, to not make it weird. 

You've always felt like you trained yourself to be interesting or funny so the other person isn't bored. You don't resent it. It's made you a fun person, good to be around, and you quite enjoy it. But sometimes, it's nice to only laugh, or listen. To not have to constantly search your brain for references, or for a further punchline, or a teasing remark. But you attract what you give, so you make yourself content in talking. To enjoy making other people laugh, it's nice, to see someone smile and laugh over what you say but that tiny inkling in your heart always stays.

But life never presents you things you prepare yourself for. 

And that's exactly what happens when you walk through the doors of the BAU office, prepared for anything they might have for you. But oh you were so unprepared.

He was already so noticeable with his doe eyes and curious gaze. He offers his hand to you, introducing himself as “Dr. Spencer Reid,” and you notice curious glances on you both. Emily Prentiss- who is now one of your best friends, shared a knowing look with Penelope, the technical analyst. You didn't know then, but the grin on her face was of someone who had already made a thousand plans in her head regarding her friends.

You only give him a curt smile and go to the conference room.  JJ gave everyone the profile as was the usual, but it's your first day so you only follow their lead at first. Hotch gets up from his seat with a “Wheels up in 30”, which left you a bit confused, but you deciphered from context it meant as a sign to get going. Soon you're all in the jet, everyone provides their input and you chime in when needed, unsure of when to speak up. But when you notice something important, you finally speak up,

“One of the victims said that he was given ‘medicine’ by the unsub when he was sick, later we found cocaine in his blood. He believes cocaine can cure colds, maybe he's thinking through the Victorian era.” You say, looking over the case file.

Everyone shares puzzled looks, surprised by your comment,

“How are those things related? Were the Victorians always doing cocaine or something?” Derek asks, and everyone's attention is on you.

“Well, no. It was prescribed as medicine.” Your answer doesn't help, it only causes their faces to look more confused.

Suddenly conscious of all the attention on you, a little bit of nervousness kicks in, but you open your mouth to speak when you're interrupted by the only person who doesn't look puzzled, more like…excited?

“Yeah! Cocaine wasn't known as a drug back then, they thought it had medicinal properties, and it does, but they didn't know its actual use. It was prescribed for hay fever, asthma and even melancholy,” He chuckles a little, taking a breath before continuing.

Everyone's looking at him now, confused, exasperated, and a little bit curious but not enough, you could tell. You tilt your head in amusement, very endeared by his excitement because you get it, you get his excitement to share it. Maybe another time you would've been offended if someone interrupted you, but how could you complain? He was so nice to look at!

“Drugs were also present in a children's medicine that was advertised as a remedy to quiet crying and fussing children, it was fairly popular because well- it worked,”

“Morphine.” You interrupt him. 

Now everyone's attention was on you. 

“The children's medicine had morphine in it.” You elaborate yourself, looking around at everyone but settling your gaze on Spencer, at last.

He gives you a smile, nods accompanying it as he looks around to his co-workers, agreeing to your comment. You smile, grateful to him for this moment. It's not much, but it helps with fitting into the group that's foreign to you.

Hotch breaks the silence as he always does, with facts about the case but at that moment, you two share a look. 

It hadn't meant much back then to you, but now it holds the most love because it reminds you of your everyday life. You had stopped trying to keep up with Spencer, with his random history, philosophy, mathematical, scientific and facts about obscure foreign films that now you just listen to him tell you about them. 

You've learnt more since you've met him than you have your entire life. You enjoyed learning, and it was just all the more enjoyable when he was the one talking. You always say how nice it would've been if you knew him during your masters, your degree would've been much more bearable.

But he was here now, and it's just like everyday, or as daily as it could be without the two of you rushing out the door because of a call.

You're making eggs and he's drinking his coffee, his mouth constantly moving, rambling about Greek myths that he had read last night. Naturally, you asked what he had read and of course, he was perfectly content to indulge you,

“You know Arachne was a weaver. She was better than most and she was prideful and arrogant in her talent. She started bragging about how she could weave better than the gods. So Athena decided to challenge her, but she lost. But things didn't go very well for Arachne either.” He stops for a sip of his coffee.

You don't need to ask, because he will continue soon enough, but you do it anyway, “Why not?”

“Well…” He says with a smile on his face, “Athena came down as an old woman to teach her to be respectful to the gods. But Arachne didn't listen. So in a fit of rage, Athena turned Arachne into a spider. But,”

Spencer takes a pause for dramatic effect and you chuckle, placing his breakfast plate in front of him, giving him a peck on his lips and sitting down on the couch, your legs draped over his lap, “Athena didn't take her powers, Arachne still was the best weaver.”

“So what? Now Arachne was just this spider weaver creature..??” You ask in confusion, rubbing your eyes which were still laden with sleep.

“Yes!!!” He says, excitedly, “Every spider you see weaves a web. Her curse was she will never be human, but she will still be a weaver. That's why spiders weave webs.”

Safe to say, your jaw was left hanging as he came to the end of the story, “That's the story? Oh my god.” 

He laughs at your incredulity and you swat him playfully, a teasing gesture, “You're getting good at this, the storytelling was-,”. You gesture a chef's kiss and he laughs again, a melodic sound to your ears.

“Why? My storytelling wasn't good before?” He asks, continuing your teasing banter. He had learned over the years to keep up with it, to hear you tease him even if it flustered him. It's always there, passing comments, enough to get him red and smile at you dopily, but he knows it's not as it used to be. You don't do it as often now, and sometimes he thinks it's because you're tired of his ramblings. He worries that he  doesn't give you enough space to be yourself, or maybe he takes up too much of the time, maybe he should give you the opportunity to talk first.

“No, handsome. I love hearing you talk.” Your words are an opposite to his thoughts but it doesn't do much to calm down his running thoughts. He's suddenly somber now, his mind plagued with insecure thoughts so he thinks to let you initiate the next sentence, the next story or the next fact. Anything.

But you're quiet for a while, waiting for him to tell you something. A few minutes pass by and you ask him again,

“I didn't read the one about Perseus, only skimmed it over, will you tell me?” You ask him, this thing routine to you, to ask questions he’s always happy to answer, drawing circles on his wrist and he thinks of it as a ruining action. It is such a specific memory, your fingers drawing sceneries on his wrist that he curses his eidetic memory. He couldn't keep this memory if you're not with him to do it again. But he couldn't help it, so he said quietly, “No, tell me about you.”

The question is confusing to you, 

“Spence, you know I don't like to talk much in the morning.” You say, your fingers now tracing the lines of his palm, your eyes focused on where your fingers move, pressing a kiss to his shoulder distractedly.

“I-” He sighs, setting down his coffee and running a hand over his face before leaning his head towards your shoulder.

“But I always ramble, and not only in the morning. You should be able tell me things too.”

“I do tell you, I tell you everything that I know about Spence. I know that I've told you that story about my grandmother at least four times now, and I always remember that after I've told you, but you never do. You just…listen, even though you probably remember every time I've told you.” You chuckle, a quiet fondness growing in your heart.

He smiles, remembering the story now. He remembers all the times you've said it to him, his favourite was the third time when you had realised halfway through and hid your face in his shoulder. 

“Yeah, but I talk too much. It's annoying. And it's boring. You can stop me if you want.” He says, his voice is quiet now, as if he knows he shouldn't say these things, he should know better than to speak like this around you, but he loves you. And he wants you to talk. 

Even though now, after a few moments out of his cycle of insecure thoughts, he realises he's wrong. You do talk to him. A lot. Everyday. Stories about your friends, how you saw a video about different types of plastic one day, how your most recent book had Greek gods, so he had taken it upon himself to read up on them. He can always tell when you have something new to tell him, there's a different shine to your eyes whenever you do. If he knows the topic, he shares your excitement, or catches up the next day. You talk to him everyday, and now he feels silly to have complained.

You turn to face him, making contact with his eyes, “No, it's not annoying. Nor is it boring. When did I ever say that?”

He tries to defend himself, “I know I ramble a lot, and you always listen. And I love you so much for it. But I don't want you to just not talk because of me. I don't wanna always take over the conversation.”

A smile graces your lips and he's more confused than ever, “Spence, listen,” You settle the coffee mug in your hand on the table and take his face into you hands,

“I like it when you ramble. I like listening to you talk, your ramblings are interesting to me. You don't think I wasn't interested in the Arachne the weaver story?” You say, and he smiles again. You're still not used to it, whenever he smiles. 

“Yeah, but you're not usually quiet around people-”

You cut him off, “I like listening to you Spencer. It's half the reason I fell in love with you. I like that I don't always have to be on my toes to keep up a conversation, that sometimes, I can just talk, or not talk, it doesn't matter.” You say earnestly, trying to explain to him just how wrong he is about his assumption, how awful it is that he thinks you're annoyed.

“And I love your rambles. You think I would have known about the fact that caterpillars basically dissolve into liquid in the cocoon?” You say and he visibly perks up, a familiar excitement coursing his body,

“And-,” There's an inflection, showcasing his obvious excitement, “The only thing left are the so-called ‘imaginal discs’, groups of cells that contain all the information and the mechanism to turn that liquid into the various body parts of a butterfly; the same applies for other insects. and also,” He goes to continue,

“They retain memories through this process. I know. Because you told me. And because I love you.” He has that doe- eyed look again, the one you dread because it fills you with a kind of fondness that you can't quite contain. It makes you a bit animalistic, in a way where you want to pepper his face with kisses, to see his cheeks turn red and hear that wretched laugh again. You had told him that too, he called it cuteness aggression. It was a fitting name, you thought.

“I love you too.” He says, his lips not too far away before they connect, both your lips taste of coffee, and his is much sweeter than yours, but he doesn't complain, and neither do you, because why would you? You can feel him smiling again, and he breaks away to speak again,

“When a caterpillar forms,” You sense another ramble incoming so you kiss him again, but he continues, “the chrysalis dissolves, but not the tiny bits of butterfly,” interrupted by a kiss again, “those don't dissolve,” 

You sigh and put your foreheads together, “they just grow into butterflies.” You finish for him.

He would take that sigh another way if it wasn't you, another tease on his behalf, talking over your kisses as if he wasn't starved for them. 

“If this is your preferred way of shutting me up,” He says, now he's the one kissing you, “I'd be very glad to keep talking.” And you smile, despite the cold coffee on the table and the not-so-quiet morning, your heart feels warm and peaceful.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any music I link. I only own the concept for this story.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

Powder Pov

"You really are a little artist. You like your new addition to your army kiddo?" I ask Isha as she colors another toy that Ekko made for her. She nods her head rapidly, not breaking her focus on coloring the toy robot while wearing a smile on her face.

"Good to know you like it." Ekko says, sitting on the other side of Isha, keeping the kid between us, before reaching to wipe some food off of her face.

It's been a few days since that operation happened; five days to be precise. After things calmed down for everyone, Vi and Cait went more into detail about what happened in those mines before leaving to check on how the others were doing, and then report their findings. Apparently some old rich guy from Piltover was running the gang and they were using orphans to work in the mines.

"Did she finish her food?" Dad asks as he walks over our table, making Isha pick up and present her empty plate to Dad, "Good job kid. Looks like you're getting your appetite back." he says as he pats her head which makes Isha giggle before going back to her coloring.

After all the kids from the mines were checked on by doctors, we decided to take Isha with us back home and dressed her since Y/n seemed to really care for her.

'Y/n.'

Their name echoes in my head again. I recall her lying down on the table again. Coming back with uncle's medicine to see a more clear view of her injuries with her clothes cut open. Watching as fragments were removed from the surface level of her body. I didn't get to see much more after Professor Heimerdinger arrived, but just by the look on his face before Ekko and I stepped out of the room, I was able to tell it wasn't good. Even when that Viktor guy arrived, it didn't help ease my nerves.

She had some close calls when it came to some deeper wounds in her back, but they would heal with time. The worse was her leg. They said she may recover, but if she woke up she wouldn't be able to walk right for awhile. Cait offered to house her until then but..... that didn't feel right for some reason. Luckily dad suggested housing her in one of the guest rooms we have available since buying out the old building connecting to ours. It being a more familiar place for her to wake up than in a fancy place was his reasoning.

Uncle Silco and the professor pay visits to check on her condition and make sure her IV is working. We sometimes find Isha checking in on her too.

Speaking of Isha, she's been a bundle of joy for the place. Took time, but eventually when she started getting comfortable she started showing her kid self more. Doesn't cause trouble and if she does it's harmless stuff. Ekko and I have taken over the duty of watching over her; I can see why Y/n cares for her a lot. Only took a few days for me to grow attached to her, and it looks like the same goes for the others. She doesn't talk, but she's expressive enough to convey how she's feeling and actually knows some sign language. Can write too.

"Kid must feel lucky. She's got her own personal attack dog ready to go rabid for her." Benzo says as dad brings the plate behind the bar to clean.

"Tch. More like a reckless bodyguard. Ignored all the thugs in the area and just gave into impulses." Sevika says as she nurses her drink at the bar, sitting near Vi and Cait. All of them off duty.

"I wonder what that's like?," I say sarcastically as I glance at Vi and Cait. Cait giggles a little while Vi gives me slight glare before I look back to Isha, "Take my advice kid, and appreciate it while it lasts. Next thing you know she's gonna get all lovesick for a cutie and start stalking her." That get's a chuckle out of people that hears, since pretty much everyone knows how protective Vi is.

"C'mon Pow Pow, y'know I would do the same for you. AND. I did not become a lovesick stalker. Right, Cupcake?" Vi says and looks to Cait to back her up, but get's a skeptical look instead.

"Mmmm, it's not completely wrong." Cait says making Vi look betrayed and the rest of us smirk.

"What!?"

"Sweetie, did you really think I believed that you would "conveniently" run into me every time I went on patrol around Zaun?"

"......It wasn't every time." Vi says, defeated and slightly embarrassed making us all have more of a chuckle from it.

"I did find it cute though. You also made patrols less boring." Cait says with a kiss to her temple to cheer her up, which makes Vi immediately perk up. The scene makes me smile before turning to look at Ekko.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check on her real quick. Keep an eye on her?"

"Go ahead. I got her." Ekko says and I ruffle the girl's head as I stand up and make my way up a set of stairs.

The walk to her room isn't too far from the bar. We decided it would be best that she was close to check on and just in case she woke up with no one with her.

I open the door to see Y/n still lying down on the bed, not having moved a muscle, the light from a nearby window slightly shining on her. I walk to the side of the bed and go to check her IV to make sure nothings wrong and doesn't need to be switched out. Once that is done I turn to look down at her again, this time much closer, and I take a moment to look her over. I see some of the bandages wrapped over her shoulder and collar bone that sticks out from underneath the blanket and take a quick look under the blanket to make sure her wounds haven't opened up again.

Once I see that she's fine I find myself staying to watch her for a little. Usually I'd find this type of thing weird, especially since I hardly know her, but something about her makes me stay longer than needed. It's comforting. She eased the headaches Ekko and I have been having. At first I would just do a quick check up, but then I started staying longer to just watch her sleep. It wasn't just me either. Sometimes Ekko and I will just stay in here and talk while keeping an eye on her.

I take a glance at the door and listen if anyone is coming before sitting down on the side of the bed. It felt nice to be close to her. It felt.... right.

I slowly reach forward and brush aside a few strands of hair behind her ear and I hesitate before laying my hand gently against her cheek and jaw. After caring for her and keeping her clean there's no longer any smudge of dirt or smog on her face.

"Why do you make us feel this way? Why do those headaches go away when near you?" I whisper, knowing she can't hear me or respond. I get lost in my thoughts before noticing my thumb brushing against her cheek and quickly pull my hand away. Calling my strange behavior there, "What is wrong with me?"

I stand up and quickly go to leave, but I take one last long look at her before closing the door and heading back to the bar. Feeling guilty of my strange behavior that I know I should be stopping.

"Why do I not want it to stop?"

Reader Pov

I feel my senses start coming back to me from what feels like a long sleep. I go to open my eyes, but find them hard to open from a bright light. I raise an arm and try to sit myself up on the bed I am laying on and feel myself struggle slightly to do the simple task.

'Wait. A bed?,' I realize before quickly covering my eyes from the light and open them to see myself in an unfamiliar room. I then notice the unfamiliar large shirt I am wearing and lack of pants. I finally see the light that has been causing me trouble is the sun shining through a nearby window, there's what looks to be a leg brace leaning on the wall near the nightstand and I notice that I am connected to what looks like an IV before taking out the tube connected to my wrist, 'Where am I?'

I remember what happened before falling unconscious in Isha's arms. I slowly shift to the edge of the bed and go to stand up; finding myself struggling slightly with my legs feeling weak. One leg feeling very painful to put weight on, so I hold onto the IV stand for support and make my way towards the nearby window and look out after my eyes adjust to the light. I see the streets of Zaun with people going about their day and kids playing.

"Good morning!"

I jump in shock, instinctively reaching for my gun which isn't there, but calm down once I see Professor Heimerdinger.

"Oh, sorry for frightening you. It's good to see you awake. How do you feel?" he asks in his always joyous tone.

"Uh, yeah. Thank you, I feel fine. Some pain in my back, but mostly my leg. My body feels weak though." I say which get's me a chuckle.

"Well that is expected for someone who has been in a coma for five days. S-"

"Five days!?"

"Yes! Now I must ask that you take a seat on the bed so that I may give you a quick check up." he says and I follow instructions while thinking about how long I was bedridden for.

Heimerdinger first jumps onto the bed and checks my eyes before asking me to lift the back of my shirt to look at the bandages I only now notice were wrapped around my torso. He then drops down to look at my injured leg.

"Um, quick question. Where am I?" I ask as he looks it over.

"Oh right! Don't worry young one, you're safe. Currently you're in The Last Drop, the owner of this establishment was nice enough to house you." he answers which makes my eyes widen.

"Vander."

"Yes! You were in quite a severe condition from your task with the enforcers, but you were rushed here to get help. You're lucky nothing vital was damaged. After removing all the embedded fragments and making sure you were stable, Vander and her daughter suggested housing you here. He said it would be better for you to wake up in a place you're more comfortable with than in the Kiramman estate like Caitlyn had offered," Heimerdinger explains before finally looking satisfied with his examination of my leg, "Well, Y/n, it looks like most minor injuries have healed and the more concerning ones are healing fairly quick. The only one that brings concern is your leg. It took a bad hit and will take awhile for you to recover before you can use it normally again, but don't worry. Viktor and Jace both made a leg brace just for you based off your measurements. Easy to put on too." he explains and I nod my head before looking down at the oversized shirt I am wearing.

"Do you mind telling me where my clothes are?"

"Ah, right, well unfortunately they had to be cut open in order to operate on you without risking making things worse. Your armor also did not survive the blast and was fractured in my places; stopping some fragments from hitting you, but also some of it cracking and stabbing into your back. I don't know what was done with it afterwards," he explains and I nod with a disappointed sigh, "Though I am sure Powder will have some clothes for you. Oh! I need to inform them of you waking up! Wait here." he says before rushing off back out the door he came in. I smile at his antics before my eyes explore the homey room.

It has some simple decorations like lamps, a shelf and a wardrobe. Decide to get lost in my thoughts for a few minutes about the situation I find myself in while I wait.

'I really messed up this time.'

*knock* *knock* I hear before I see the all too familiar blue head of hair before seeing Powder's whole head poke in. I see a smile on her face when she sees me.

"Hey, it's good to see you recovered well," she says as she steps in with folded clothes under her arm and cane held in the other, "These should fit you well, and Heimerdinger said you're gonna need the cane to walk. I hope you don't mind if my clothes don't match your tastes. Oh, and your shoes are just by the door." she says as she sets the cane near the nightstand and hands me the clothes.

I over the simple clothing of a pair of pants and a white collared shirt with long sleeves and smile.

"Thanks. This is fine, and thanks for housing me." I say and notice her shoulders drop slightly to be more relaxed.

"Don't mention it. Plus it wasn't that hard to look after you. Even Isha helped a lot." Powder says and makes my eyes widen.

"Isha's here!? I-Is she okay?" I ask and Powder sets a hand on my shoulder.

"She's fine. We took her in after the doctors looked her and the rest of the kids over. You clearly cared a lot for her so we thought it would be best for her to be here," she explains which makes me sigh in relief, "Now if I were I'd hurry before Isha finds a way to sneak up here herself. Ekko and I can only keep her at bay for so long. By the way, how do you know her anyway?," she asks which makes me freeze, "She told us she doesn't know who you are, but she does really like you now for saving her. She makes sure to check up on you every morning."

'Shit. Did not think about that.'

"I..... I kinda knew her parents. They weren't in the best position to support her, so they gave her up." I make up on the spot.

"Where are they now?"

"They passed away. I didn't know which orphanage she was in, and even if I did I couldn't care for her. My lifestyle would have put her in danger." I continue to build off of the lie.

"Hm, how did you know it was her then?"

"It..... It was a feeling," I lie which get's me a brow raise, "I know. It's weird, but it really was just a feeling. I-I can't explain it." I lie again, knowing it's not hardly gonna work to kill her suspicion.

She stares for a second before nodding and goes to leave, but before she does I see her stop for a second before looking back at me.

"H-Hey, are you gonna need help...... y'know... undressing?" she asks with a light blush on her cheeks and I my own cheeks heat up at the question.

"No-No I-I got it. Thanks for offering though."

"Alright, yeah..... cool. I-I'll see you down there. Just head over here when you're ready." she says, pointing down the hall before shutting the door and I hear her footsteps quickly leave.

I take a few seconds to calm my blush down before I start changing. Turns out, I did not completely have it. The pain on my back making it a little hard to take off the shirt I'm wearing, but I still manage to get it off before changing into the clothes given to me. Honestly it felt kinda weird to wear something that was clean and good quality.

I fold up the sleeves just before my elbows before reaching for the leg brace. Now holding it closer I can see the quality of the brace and a part of me hesitates before strapping it on. Once I make sure it's on correctly I use the cane to stand up from the bed and immediately notice the lack of intense pain in my leg because of the brace.

I awkwardly make my way out of the room, trying to get used to the brace and using a cane, before making my way down the hallway to another door where I hear noise. I walk through and find myself on the 2nd floor of The Last Drop. I spot familiar faces sitting at the bar before heading to the stairs. I try to take a step down, but find it a little difficult with the brace and cane making the movement unfamiliar.

"Need help?" I hear and see Ekko walking up towards me, but doesn't make a move to help until I smile and nod.

'Always a gentlemen.' I think before he helps me balance and walk down the stairs.

"Thanks. Not used to moving around with a cane, let alone a whole leg brace."

"No need to thank me. Does it hurt?"

"Nothing I can't handle, the brace helps a lot. I just gotta get used to it. Name's Y/n by the way."

"Oh right! I'm Ekko, sorry, forgot we haven't met yet." he says sounding a little panicked, making me laugh a little.

"Who doesn't know about "The Boy Savior"?" I ask which makes him groan, making my smile widen.

"Man, and here I thought you wouldn't know about that. I don't know why people call me that."

"'Cause you help people. From what I've heard you always try your best to help people."

"So? A lot of people help people."

"Not as much as you do "Boy Savior"," I say again teasingly which makes him roll his eyes, "Sometimes all people need is for someone to care. It gives them hope." I say as we finally reach the bottom step.

"Well, looks who's finally woken up." I hear Vander say and finally notice all the eyes on me now.

"Mornin'," I say not knowing what else to sayin in the moment, before I notice Isha staring at me from behind Powder's legs which makes me smile, "Hey kid, good to see you're alright."

'Most likely kinda scared after I we-' I don't finish the thought because she comes running from behind Powder and crashes into a lower half; hugging me close, 'Maybe, not.' I thought as I run a hand through her hair.

"She's been waiting for you to wake up for days. Always checkin' up on you to see if you're awake," Vander says as I take a moment to take a moment to hold Isha close, old memories of her death going through my head, "Here, you better eat." he says as he places a plate of food on the counter once Isha pulls away, but still holds the bottom of the shirt I'm wearing.

"You-You didn't have to do that." I say which makes the professor look aghast on his stool.

"Nonsense! After being stuck in bed for so long it's best to have a nice meal to start building back your strength and readjust your body." he says and Isha grabs my free hand before tugging me to the corner of the bar counter where Vi, Cait and Sevika are sitting; insisting that I eat, "See? Even the young child agrees." he says which makes me let out a sigh before sitting down at the counter; Isha trying to climb up the high stool next to me to sit down so Powder helps her up.

"Thank you." I say to Vander and begin eating the fresh meal.

'It's felt like forever since I last ate a hot meal.'

"So, I have informed Vander of your condition. I believe after some rest and not putting too much weight on your leg you will recover in no time." Heimerdinger explains and I nod.

"Thank you again. Uh, how much is the brace gonna cost exactly?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Free of charge! Viktor was the one who wanted it made and insisted you not worry about any payment."

"Really?" I ask in slight disbelief before continuing when I get a nod, "Huh, I guess that's one less thing to worry about. Just gotta figure out how to get back home." I say as I take another spoonful of food. Though I sense a tone shift in the room.

"About that. I, or more like we, were wondering if you got anyone back home to help you recover. We thought someone would come asking for you eventually, but no one showed up." Vander asks as he picks up a glass to wipe down.

"Oh uh, no," I answer which makes Vander look concerned, "I should be fine though. I could hunker down for a few day." I say as I continue eating.

"And if some gang tries something?," he asks and I stay silent; not able to provide an answer, "Mmhm. You're staying here until you recover." he says, making me choke on some food.

"Taking in two more strays I see?" Silco jokes from across the bar with Benzo letting out a small laugh, as Isha pats my back.

"Wait. No I can't st-" I go to protest, but Vander gives me a look which makes me shut up, and Benzo laughs harder.

"Haha! You still got it, huh Vande'!?"

I sit there in defeat after already being shut down of any protests like a damn child, while the three men break off into their own conversations.

'This isn't fair. He used the "Don't test me" look.' I thought as I hear giggles from Powder and Vi.

"Nice try, but when Dad decides on something like this it's better to just roll over. I've tried." Vi says as she gives me sympathetic look.

"Plus I doubt this kid would let you go by yourself. She'd probably follow you down there and I don't think any of us want that." Powder says as she ruffles Isha's hair and hands her a toy robot.

"Thanks. And I'm sorry for screwing up the whole operation." I apologize, but Sevika scoff and waves it off.

"Whatever, it's fine. Wouldn't be the first time we had someone go off the rails on the team," she says as she and Cait give Vi a quick glance, making the pink head roll her eyes, "Plus it turned out better than expected. That explosion caused a noticeable rumble above ground, so when some enforcers found Chross and his guys come out of a tunnel up in Piltover, they put them into custody." she explains making me curious.

"They ended up in Piltover? I didn't know there were mining tunnels there." I voice my curiosity and Cait jumps in to give an explanation.

"There are a few old ones that have been abandoned. Turns out that's how he moved shipments to the Undercity. After interrogation his thugs broke and admitted to crimes, such as paying off some caretakers at orphanages to stay silent and lie about the whereabouts on the children," she says which makes me glance down to Isha who is now coloring the toy, "and the rest of the gang are scrambling without order. Overall a much better outcome than expected, even given the way it went. Your payment will be given in a few days time after we finish our overall report for our investigation." Cait finishes with a satisfied tone and expression on her face before I hear the door of the bar opening.

"Woah, look who woke up. It was about time." I hear and turn in time to see Mylo get elbowed by Claggor.

"Sorry about him. He's still learning how to behave," Powder says as she leans back against the bar counter next to me, "Y/n, these are my brothers, the gangly one is Mylo and the big one is Claggor. Guys, meet the new residence of The Last Drop, Y/n."

"Wait! She's staying here!? Why!? Isn't she still technically a criminal?" Mylo brings up which makes me glance at Cait.

"Right. I forgot to mention. My mother took a closer look at your record and insisted on pardoning you of charges on your record. It was pretty easy to get when it was obvious you weren't targeting any civilians. Though she recommends putting your skill to good use with the enforcers; if not then she suggests at least getting a mercenary license if you want to operate as a mercenary." Cait explains which makes me even more confused.

"There's licenses for mercenaries?"

"Yes. Though it is no longer as common to have mercenaries working around; Silco suggested making it available so that mercenaries would lean towards a more legal line of work instead of working with gangs, which worked." Cait explains making me wonder just how much has changed with laws.

"You didn't know about merc licenses?," Ekko asks as he walks over next to Isha and sets down a pack of what looks like crayons for Isha, and I shake my head, "It was a pretty big deal. Helped a lot when Piltover and Zaun made peace. The council paid any mercenary willing to help with clearing out gangs in Zaun, even if it was just some info."

"See Mylo, she ain't that bad. Stop being an ass" Claggor says, but Mylo scoffs before looking me up and down.

"Well, at least you aren't dressed in rags anymore. You really need a sense of style." he says with a smug look which makes me look deadpan at him.

"You really gonna judge my look, Eyebrows?" I ask, getting a few chuckles from the others and Mylo looks offended.

"I've been telling him the same thing for years." Powder tells me which gets another scoff from Mylo.

"I am, not, getting my brows done. That's a girl's thing." he says which makes Ekko raise a hand.

"Powder does my eyebrows sometimes." Ekko argues.

"Whatever, that's different. I'm not getting my brows done." Mylo continues to protest as he folds his arms, making Powder roll her eyes.

"Fine. If not the brows, then shave the facial hair," which makes him look aghast at the suggestion, "At least the sideburns."

"What!? No way! They're the main part of my look. It's manly. Right guys? Tell her." Mylo says as he looks at Claggor and Ekko to defend him on this.

They both look at eachother, then me, then back to Mylo before acting like they didn't hear anything. Looking elsewhere around the room, making the rest of us laugh.

"Oh, c'mon guys! It looks good." he tries to say, but doesn't gain any support. He then looks defeated before making eye contact with now my own smug look.

"Shave the sideburns." I say as I finish the last of the food on my plate, before my attention is grabbed by the capsule contraption Claggor is holding. Is that a flower?

"What's with the flower?" I ask which makes Claggor smile.

"Glad you asked," he says as he brushes past a disgruntled Mylo and sets it on the counter, "This is a hybrid flower to help get fresh air into the Undercity. It's supposed to be able to survive and produce air, even with all the gasses from the fissure." he says as he twists and pulls some things which gives a demonstration on the flower taking in the fissure gasses.

"What a brilliant idea!" Heimerdinger says enthusiastically.

'Mylo and Claggor working with plants? Never would have expected that.'

"Buuuut?" Powder asks with a slight head tilt, making Claggor sigh.

"But it's not fully working as expected. We got it to start feeding off the fissure gasses, but it's not working out fully as expected. They survive, but won't grow and can't produce enough air down here." he explains as Isha taps on the glass of the capsule.

'What about the tree? That somehow survived.'

"Tree?" I hear Ekko ask and turn to see him and Powder both looking at me curiously.

'Oh shit. I was mumbling again.'

"Oh, u-uh nothing. Sorry I was ju-"

"What tree?" Claggor now asks Ekko.

"Y/n said something about a tree." Ekko says, making Claggor and Mylo look to me. Claggor looking very interested, making me slightly nervous.

'Do they not know about it?'

"Uh, y'know. That one tree in the underground? Has some plants growing around it? Why don't you take samples from those?" I ask, but they look confused, "I guess that's a no."

"A tree? What tree? Where?" Claggor asks, now leaning onto the bar.

"It's not in plain sight. It's hidden in some abandon place, probably where maintenance used to be for the old pipes or something."

"W-Wait. So it's like an actual tree? How big is it?"

"Pretty big. I'd say it's been growing down there before any of us were born, maybe even longer than that."

"An actual tree. Can you show me where it is? Maybe if Mylo and I study some samples and the soil, then we can make a hybrid that can actually work for the Zaun." Claggor asks with hope in his voice and eyes."

"Su-"

"Woah, hold on," Vi says with a raised hand, "I don't think you should be walking around with your leg right? You just woke up." Vi says with concern.

"It's fine. I just gotta make sure not to put too much weight on," I say and turn to Heimerdinger, "Right?"

"Hmm, usually I would say you should rest, but I am also fascinated by this recent discovery. If the location of this tree is not hard to get to, then I think your leg should be fine."

"Not hard at all. Just a walk through some pipes and you're there, though I hope you don't mind getting your shoes wet." I say to Claggor and Mylo.

"As long as there's an actual tree, then it's fine by me." Claggor says and Mylo just shrugs his shoulders.

"Cool. I'll come too. Ekko?" Powder asks and gets a nod before looking at Isha, "And I'm guessing you're gonna wanna come too, huh?" Powder asks and Isha excitedly nods.

Vi then groan as she leans back into her seat.

"Maaan, I wanna see the tree too. Instead I need to go on patrol again." Vi says disgruntled and Cait comforts her with a shoulder rub and Sevika rolls her eyes.

"We can go see it another day Sweetie. Speaking of patrol, we better head out. Stay safe on your trip." Cait says as she pays for the drinks before leaving with a disappointed Vi and Sevika.

I stand up from my seat before looking down at my hip, remembering my lack of weapons.

"You guys wouldn't happen to have my stuff?" I ask, Isha perks up as she jump off her stool and rushes to the backroom, making Powder and Ekko chuckle.

"Yeah, about that. Isha found her way to them, so I hope you don't mind. We were supposed to clean them before you woke up." Powder says, making me raise a brow at her before Isha comes rushing back out with her arms full and wearing two helmets.

She looks at me expectantly as I see she made some cosmetic changes to my gear. Blue and green being the most colors that stand out. My shovel having a smiling face with shark teeth on it, my plain holster now being a mix of blue and green, my revolver having some stars and smiley faces with numbers on the spinning chamber, my gas mask has some little markings added where they could fit, and my helmet is much more colorful with bunny ears on the front. Looking at the colorful gear makes me smile as I pick up my helmet from atop Isha's head.

"I like it," I say before putting it on, "How does it look?" I ask

"Somehow, even more scary than before." Ekko says making me nod in approval before reaching to put on the rest of my gear while Claggor and Mylo discuss with the professor about the potential of their hybrid plants.

I do kinda struggle with reaching around with my gun holster before I feel my hand brush against another and turn to see Ekko.

"Let me help with that," he says as he helps me get the holster around and before I know it he helps with buckling it too; I feel a slight heat on my cheeks from the action, "That good?"

"Yup. Thanks," I say and Ekko nods before I take my gun and shovel and strap them on my hips, then put on my gas mask. Only then do I remember one more important thing missing, "Did you happen to find a journal on me too?" I ask, making Powder perk up.

"Oh right! Sorry," she says before reaching into her jacket and holding it out to me, "Don't worry, I didn't look in it. Just thought you'd want it somewhere safe." she explains and I nod before taking and pocketing it.

'It's best for you to never look in it.'

"Thanks. So I guess we can head out now?" I ask and get nods from everyone and Isha grabs my hand and pulls me towards the doors.

"Dad! We're heading out to go see a tree!" Powder says and get's a nod from Vander.

"Stay safe out there, and don't lean on your leg too much Y/n." Silco says before the three men go back to talking.

As we leave and Isha holds my hand in hers, I can't help but have a nice warm feeling in my chest.

'.....Maybe this isn't so bad.'

Ekko Pov

"Hey, you okay?" I whisper to Powder after noticing her lagging behind the group. All of us now walking through an old pipeline that supposedly leads to the tree Y/n has mentioned. Isha enjoying the the walk in the water, while our shoes are ankle deep in water.

"I am, but.... I don't know. This is just weird."

"You think it's a setup? She seems fine to me"

"No, I don't, but that's the problem. This whole thing feels too fine. Feels too right for someone we just met yesterday. Look at them," she says as she gestures forward at the rest of the group. Bantering about things that come to their minds. I see Y/n, her mask now off and attached to her holster, say something that makes Mylo and Claggor laugh, "She fits in. She fits in too well. Mylo would usually be stumbling over his words when met with a cute girl, but instead they're just joking and ribbing each other like they've known each other since forever." she says, making me sigh.

"I know. I was surprised when Mylo was actually able to let out a sentence without a voice crack." I say jokingly, making Powder slightly glare at me and give me a nudge.

"I'm serious. It's weird, but it's good weird. Even you and I have stayed in her room because it felt nice to just be there with her. You know that's not normal," I remember the times we'd spend in that room, using Isha as an excuse of being there sometimes because she wanted to be there, but I know Powder and I enjoyed Y/n being in the same room as us, "She makes me forget that she's a stranger. We all have friends, but we have a pretty tight knit group of people we really really care for. When I saw the condition she was in that day Vi rushed her in; I never felt that worried before. I thought she was gonna die and that made me want to cry. Even now, I still hardly know her, but it just feels right to be with her. She's hiding something and that makes me feel really upset, and I shouldn't be." Powder finishes airing out her thoughts and finally takes a deep breath. Making me wrap an arm around her.

"You're not wrong. I've been questioning it too.... but is it that bad? Maybe she just fits in really well with us?," I try to argue, but then immediately sigh in defeat to myself, knowing that's not it, "Never mind, I'm just lying to myself. I feel it too. That weird pull to her. It makes me want to protect her."

"Exactly! Whenever I think about how she's hiding something, I really wanted to look in her journal but held myself back. It's wrong, but it feels right. I-I think I see it in the others too. What-What's happening to us?"

"I don't know."

'A part of me doesn't want to know. Just accept it.'

"There just up ahead, it should be there." Y/n says as she points to the light at the end of the tunnel. A smile on her face that brings back that comforting feeling and I feel Powder relax under my arm as we catch up with the group.

Once we finally reach the end I blink to adjust to the sunlight and stare in shock at the actual living tree.

"It's real." I say looking at it in awe.

"Amazing! To think that life somehow found a way to live deep down here underground. Imagine what it must have gone through to adapt to it's conditions!" Heimerdinger says looking at it in awe.

Claggor quickly goes up closer to it with Mylo and the professor following close behind. Isha splashes around the area, she looks to be having fun playing in the water and looking at the insects.

"It's beautiful. How did you find this place?" Powder asks Y/n, who is keeping a close eye on Isha with a smile on her face.

"Just wandering around. Eventually stumbled upon this place one day." she says, but I see her fiddling with her shovel handle. I ignore the sign of nervousness and turn back to the tree.

"I can't believe no one knew about this place. It's like a sanctuary."

"A sanctuary for hope," Y/n says as she glances at me, "Even in the roughest conditions. Life finds a way to thrive. Kinda like Zaun." she says and turns back to the tree. I catch myself admiring her in scenery, apparently a little too long because I feel Powder nudge me slightly and give me a knowing smirk. It's then that we see some slight shine onto her eyes, making her blink and rub at them.

"Damn light." she says as she raises a hand over her eyes and blinking a lot, having a hard time to adjust.

"You really aren't that good with light are you? What's up with that?" Powder asks as Y/n moves to a more shaded area.

"I'm just not used to it. I've spent most of my life in the deep end of the Undercity, so light isn't really a thing I'm used to." she says making me raise a brow.

"You've had to have come up from there at least sometimes right? When was the last time you left?" I ask curiously, and also some concern for the health of her eyes.

"Besides yesterday, it's been years. Last time was when that whole speech about peace between Piltover and Zaun happened on that bridge," she says making both Powder and I stare at her in shock and horror, "What?"

"Y/n. You haven't been to the surface in eight years!?" Powder asks in concern, making Y/n nervous as she helps Isha up from the water after she slipped.

"No. Too busy dealing with gangs honestly. Never really kept up with Zaun," Y/n says as she wipes some dirt off Isha's face, "Wake up, eat, hunt down gangs, sometimes wipe them out and if I'm lucky I get a good amount of sleep. Rinse and repeat." she finishes explaining making me connect some dots.

"That's why you look so confused about laws and the way Zaun is now. You've been completely out of the loop," I say, getting a nod from Y/n, "So you haven't seen how Zaun is now? The markets? Stores? Community? Nothing?"

She looks hesitant and too embarrassed to answer, even getting a sympathetic look from Isha.

'She has been living in the past. Literally.'

"Okay. No, we're going on a different trip." Powder says, sounding slightly upset, as she walks up to Y/n, grabs a hand and starts dragging her back to the pipe with Isha following close behind. Y/n gives me a pleading look to help her, but I shrug my shoulders. A part of me also wanting to see where this goes.

"But-But what about the tree and the others?" Y/n asks making Powder roll her eyes, before tugging Y/n forward almost causing her to fall and looping her arm with her own, holding her close to support her and help her walk.

"They're too busy getting samples and admiring the tree, they'll be fine. We, are going to give you a tour around Zaun."

"You do-"

"Shut up. You don't have a choice. Come on you two." Powder calls back to Isha and I. I quickly catch up them and pick up Isha from behind and place her on my shoulders as we follow behind the two. Powder continuing to drag the reluctant girl. That feeling of everything being right, emerging again.

I don't fight the feeling this time.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

[mixes-archive]

SUPER GRAPHIC ULTRA MODERN GIRL ✰

Arcee x fem! human! reader

SUMMARY: Being unabashedly feminine while working in a male-dominated field is EXHAUSTING. But thank Primus Arcee and you have each other to cope.

TAGS: winners possibly winning, cute fluff, the stove is not even on yet-burn, shitting on men a bit in spirit of this song

A/N: I BET THIS WASNT THE COMBACK ANY OF YOU WERE EXPECTING LOLOL - I won’t bore anyone with a long story, my ask box is open if you’re curious about anything.

This is my first fic in years, and my first for Transformers, so I hope its atleast somewhat enjoyable??

Arcee was, well…

confused, if an Autobot can be, at herself and her emotions.

Servos tracing the round part of her helm as she loses herself to her thoughts - about you.

The little human who had somehow, some way, crawled itself into the deepest parts of her processor. And with no great difficulty either, she was almost enamoured with you since she’d first laid her optics on your little form.

Finding reason for that wouldn’t be as hard as anyone would think either - for being such a tough and independent bot, having purely masculine friends doesn’t get tiring. (After you’d told her about the human equivalent of her experience, she was glad she lacked a sense of smell)

Now, she loves her crew, she really does, but first being one of the few feminine-presenting cybertonians and now seemingly the only one on earth (with exception of Airachnid) - it would have been hard not feeling lonely, while also admired by too many.

It was overwhelming and so, so lonely.

They’d previously brought a few humans in on their situation, to put it mildly. Unfortunate souls that couldn’t overlook the brightly coloured, obscenely tall and heavy machines shifting almost magically, in a badly hidden spot.

Of course, luck had been on their side, because they were all willing to stay silent, sometimes even helping out with stuff the autobots couldn’t do themselves.

Yes, they were lucky. But Arcee did not feel that way because as it turned out, they’d all ben men.

Not that she’d treated them as anything less than because of that of course, but she still couldn’t help but crave that true connection of someone likeminded.

So when Bumblebee came crashing into their hideout with a frilly, pink… thing in his servos, she was excited.

You’d looked so adorable, sharing her colour-way even, as if sent by Primus himself, saying: ‘Here Arcee, for all your troubles.’

Arcee made it no secret that she’d claimed you as hers. From the start she was by your side, giving you a comforting glance when Optimus gave you the run-down, and having her servo on the small of your back when you’d eventually met all the others. The others don’t think they’d ever seen her talk that much.

And the sentiment wasn’t one-sided either.

As much as it was upsetting to be basically kidnapped by a (admittedly very cool-looking) Camaro because you’d spotted it- him shifting to bend into a humanoid shape to pet a cat, you did have to admit it wasn’t a terrible situation to be in. At least you now had the confirmation that aliens wouldn’t cause harm to you.

Though once you’d been informed that really, they hadn’t planned on staying on earth as a long as they did, and really, really couldn’t afford to be known about on a bigger scale, you felt sympathy for them.

And something deeper for the nice, pink robot comforting you through all these plot-developments.

You ended up chatting so much that the night ended at dawn, along with a private lesson in motorcycling from Arcee herself. Turned out you actually lived close by and you promised each other to meet again soon.

Maybe it was the excitement of finally meeting someone that you clicked with so well and so quick, maybe the tiredness clouding your brain or maybe the fact that the first person you’ve found yourself attracted to is a 9 foot tall robo-woman, but you kissed her display before running into the safety of your house.

If she had speakers, Arcee is certain the entire neighbourhood would have woken up to hear Katy Perry playing.

[04thz]

Migraines - an Analogical oneshot

Logan's had issues with migraines for a long time, but never told the other sides about it. During a particularly bad one, Virgil comes to check on him.

Mild TW for mentioned vomit/throwing up - this is based on my own experience with migraines, and I basically always end up puking so Logan does now too lmao

Word count: 2444

Also! Just a quick FYI, I have an AO3 now! This one and the two NaruMitsu fics I made recently have been posted there. Will potentially move my older fics there as well, so in case anyone wants to read more of my writing without having to scroll through the wall of random that is my blog, I am 04thz on there as well. Anyways, enjoy the fluff lol

It was just one of those days. Hardly the first Logan had dealt with, but they never got any easier. He squeezed his eyes shut as another jolt of pain went through his skull and rolled over in bed to face the wall, where less of the light creeping in under the door could reach him. The movement caused a swell of nausea, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths to suppress the urge to vomit, pulling the marine blue duvet up to further cover himself. 

God, he hated migraines. Tension headaches weren’t all that uncommon for the logical side, nor were caffeine headaches, but those were usually manageable with water and a couple painkillers, and if nothing else he could at least work through the more subdued pain. Whenever he felt a migraine coming on, that was it for the rest of the day, he would most likely not be getting anything else done until it was over. If he was lucky, the pain would be gone within a few hours and/or after a quick nap, but sometimes – like today – he’d wake up with a dull ache radiating out from one or both temples, which would steadily worsen over the course of the day, until it felt like one side of his head was being repeatedly wacked with a sledgehammer. And as if the throbbing pain weren’t bad enough, it was more often than not accompanied by crippling sensitivity to both light and sound, full-body chills, and such intense nausea it was nearly impossible to move without throwing up.  

Logan never told any of the other sides about his problem. Not only did he not want to appear weak, but also as long as he kept up with his work it was unlikely they’d think it odd that he'd stay couped up in his room for a day or two every once in a while; that was hardly unusual for him anyhow. Besides, it’s not like they could help with his predicament, actually there was all likelihood they’d make it worse. When he felt the aura of an oncoming migraine, he’d simply excuse himself from any social situation and bunker down in his room with a water bottle, painkillers, and a large bucket, in case he’d fail to quash the relentless waves of nausea. This time there hadn’t been any social situations to excuse himself from; he never even made it out of bed, much less out of the room. After trying and failing to go back to sleep to avoid the issue all together, he’d simply taken a pill and steeled himself for the dreadful day ahead.  

He’d managed to eat a couple bites of the breakfast he summoned for himself, and even done some reading before the gnawing ache became too intense to focus on anything else. But when it came time for lunch, he’d barely gotten the first mouthful down before it violently came back up, along with his breakfast. With throat burning and eyes running, Logan was forced to admit defeat, and he’d spent the next few hours subsisting on small sips of water, while trying to block out what little light seeped into the room and willing the day to just be over already.  

It was in this state that Virgil found him that afternoon. The alarm clock on Logan’s nightstand read 17:15 when he heard soft footsteps in the corridor outside. The three quick knocks on the door weren’t loud, but nonetheless agonizing, and Logan had to grit his teeth to suppress a pitiful whimper that threatened to escape his still sore throat.  

“L? You in there?” 

Logan sighed and tried his best to keep his voice steady. 

“Yes, Virge, I’m here. What is it?” 

The brief reply had sounded more abrasive than intended, and a minute passed in silence before a hesitant question came through. 

“Can I come in?” 

Logan took a deep breath and weighed for and against before turning back towards the door. 

“Yes, you may, just... please keep your voice down.” 

The door was slowly pushed open and Logan had to put his hands up to cover his eyes as the room was suddenly illuminated by the bright light spilling in from the hallway. Virgil stepped into the room, hands buried deeply in the pockets of his hoodie and shoulders pulled up; Logan’s blunt manner had clearly put him a bit on edge. Logan pressed his hands against his face. 

“Shut the door, please...” 

Virgil used his foot to push the door shut and Logan sighed with relief as the room was once again shrouded in blissful darkness. He lowered his hands and pulled the covers tighter around himself. Virgil leaned against the door, looking at him uncertainly as his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. 

“Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you all day, and you don’t look so good.”, he said quietly. 

‘Not so good’ was rather an understatement. Logan had caught glances of himself in mirrors on better days and knew all too well he must look terrible; pale and shivering, hair a mess, eyes hazy, these kinds of days typically made him look like he was half-way to the grave. Not to mention his pajamas – consisting of indigo flannel bottoms and an old, faded Doctor Who t-shirt – were in desperate need of a wash. Reluctantly he reached for his glasses, sliding them on and looking at Virgil tiredly, though he could hardly make out more than a silhouette. 

“I have a migraine. Nothing to worry about, just... highly unpleasant.” 

The last two words came out as a sigh. Virgil tilted his head, taking a step towards the bed. 

“Oh, I see.” 

He slowly made his way over, pausing for a second and wrinkling his nose as he was hit by the rancid smell from the bucket on the floor. He looked at Logan, who wearily motioned for him to sit down on the bed. Virgil carefully sat down at the edge of the bed and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on his hoodie. They sat in silence for a while, until Virgil started finding it intolerable and softly spoke up. 

“Do you uh... need anything? Like an ice pack or something?” 

Logan went to decline the offer, mostly wanting to be left alone, but stopped himself. 

“That... would be great actually.” 

Virgil nodded, summoning an ice pack and a small towel, handing them to Logan. 

“Thank you, Virgil.” 

He gingerly placed his glasses back on the nightstand before laying the towel over his forehead and placing the ice pack on the side of his head that was throbbing the worst. He exhaled slowly, finally feeling some blessed relief as the chill of the ice somewhat dulled the burning pain. Virgil watched him, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

“Did that help?” 

Logan nodded ever so slightly, gently shutting his eyes underneath the towel. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Virgil looked around, having no problem seeing in the very faint light from the door, though he’d know the room like the back of his hand even if he couldn’t see it. Out of all the other sides’ rooms, Logan’s was probably the one the anxious side had spent the most time in. If he’d had a nightmare or just couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t unusual for him to make his way over, and Logan was typically happy enough to let him in. For all he harped on about circadian rhythms and healthy sleep schedules, it was not uncommon to find the logical side sitting by his desk or reading late into the night. Sometimes, if he was feeling especially anxious, like after a bad nightmare, Virgil would ask Logan to read aloud to him from whatever book he was currently working his way through. Many nights he’d fallen asleep listening to various detective stories and scientific theories, curled up under the large, galaxy print blanket on Logan’s bed. Logan was a constant, a steady presence in Virgil’s life, even more so than the other sides, and seeing the normally - at least outwardly- unshakeable man in his current state was honestly a bit unnerving.  

“... Do you get migraines like this often?” Virgil asked softly, turning to look at Logan’s half-covered face. 

“Once or twice a month at most. They aren’t always this bad.” Logan replied tiredly. 

The anxious side chuckled quietly, mostly to himself. 

“Just bad luck today huh?” 

He could just about make out the slight movement of Logan furrowing his brows under the towel. 

“Wouldn’t call it ‘bad luck’ exactly. I have admittedly exceeded my own limitations by quite a large margin over the past couple weeks, it’s hardly surprising it would end like this.”   

Logan wasn’t sure if it was the pain, the drowsiness or just the fact that it happened to be Virgil sitting on the bed with him that made him inclined to share “unfavorable” information like that so freely, but he had to confess it was rather nice to not keep it all to himself for once. He was aware he was working on an unsustainable schedule, despite his best efforts to keep Thomas and his fellow sides from doing the same, and it felt – yes, felt – good to say so out loud. Like giving the thought some sort of external presence was a step in the right direction towards amending the issue. Virgil returned to fidgeting with his hoodie strings, watching Logan’s chest slowly rise and fall for what seemed like an eternally long minute before breaking the silence: 

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” he said, concern apparent in his voice.  

Logan sighed and moved the ice pack slightly to the left, before he let his hand fall to his side 

“I suppose not, no. There’s been so much work to do lately, everything else sort of got left by the wayside, so to speak.” 

“L, you can’t do that. You have needs too, you can’t just work and work and ignore them. That’s not healthy.” 

Virgil moved a bit closer to Logan, turning his body so his knee just barely touched Logan’s outer calf. The latter shifted slightly, somewhat unused to physical contact of any sort.  

“I know that, Virge. I am trying to find a better balance, but it’s easier said than done.” 

Virgil placed a hand on Logan’s knee, resting it lightly so that the other man may move away from his touch if he so pleased. Logan didn’t move his leg away, instead he slowly lifted a corner of the towel off his face, looking at Virgil questioningly, though the anxious side knew he probably couldn’t actually see him in the dark and without his glasses. Virgil bit his lip softly and ran the fingers of his free hand through his bangs.  

“I care about you, Logan. I know you hate the feelingsy stuff and all, but I really care about you, and I don’t want you pushing yourself like that. I’m worried about you, dude.” 

Logan drew in a breath, slightly taken aback. Virgil usually wasn’t much more forward about this sort of thing than himself. And that word; Worried. Virgil was worried about him. He noticed that Logan didn’t leave his room that day, he cared enough to come check on him and at least attempt to help with his splitting headache. None of the others typically even noticed he wasn’t present unless it happened to be for an extended period of time. As much as he hated to admit it, that hurt, and the fact that Virgil had sought him out and expressed concern for his wellbeing meant more to him than he knew how to properly verbalize.  

“Thank you, Virgil. I... appreciate that.” was all he could muster up through suddenly knotted vocal cords. 

Virgil gently rubbed Logan’s knee. There was, as always, an implicit understanding between them. Even if Logan didn’t know how to say it, Virgil understood that his concern was important to him. 

“I mean it. Just... I’m here for you, okay? You can always talk to me if something’s going on.” 

He was half expecting the conversation to be over at that point, and was just about to leave Logan alone to sleep off his headache, when the logical side spoke up again: 

“Virge? Could you maybe... read to me?” 

Virgil stopped in the middle of getting up, sinking back down on the mattress. Logan shifted the towel back over his eyes and continued: 

“I was reading Murder on the Orient Express earlier, but I didn’t get past the first few chapters before my migraine got the better of me.” 

Virgil smirked playfully. 

“Again? Don’t you have it memorized by now?” 

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes despite the agony it caused. 

“I am too tired for musical references right now.” 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” 

Virgil snickered and reached for the book on the nightstand.  

“Can I lie down?” 

Logan nodded ever so slightly, and Virgil carefully nestled himself in between him and the wall, leafing through the book until he came across the ornate bookmark Roman had gotten for Logan’s appreciation day a few years previous. He smiled; half convinced Logan would have gotten rid of it by now. He cleared his throat and began reading. Though he wasn’t as big a fan as Logan, Virgil did enjoy Agatha Christie’s writing, having heard both Murder on the Orient Express and a couple of her other books read out multiple times, and he did find some pleasure in being able to return the favor after being read to restful sleep so many times. A few chapters in, he glanced over at Logan and noticed that he’d drifted off. He put the bookmark in place and carefully returned the book to its spot on the nightstand before removing the thawing ice pack and wrapping it up in the towel. Propping himself up on his elbow, Virgil watched his companion’s relaxed face with an adoring smile, and soon found himself dozing off to the slow, almost hypnotic rhythm of his breathing.  

When Logan woke up in the morning, finally free of the excruciating migraine, and found Virgil sleeping with his hand resting on Logan’s chest, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Careful not to wake the other man, he got out of bed and put on his glasses. Before leaving for a much-needed shower, he made sure to tuck Virgil in properly and – much to his own surprise – gently stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. Virgil smiled contently in his sleep, and Logan quietly left the room with a warm, pleasant feeling in his chest.  

[pricegouge]

Soapprice ‘cest post

This dynamic would be chaos in the best of ways. Soap would be getting into this that and the other while John did nothing to curb it.

Maybe it’s soaps senior year of college and he decided he wanted to go out with a bang so he’s turned the prancing up to the max. The most recent incident (an explosion in the chemistry lab that sent white smoke billowing out and filling the hallways and classrooms causing everyone to evacuate. The fire dept and epa were called. The smell was going to linger for weeks.) got his stepdad, one john price called.

John shows up to the school and is all ‘what can you do? He’s a smart kid and sometimes genius comes out in disruptive ways.’ Finally agrees to talk to him just to get the headmaster to stop fuming.

The whole drive home is John telling him, ‘you should be old enough by now not to need constant supervision, but that was some explosion from what I heard walking in.’ and ‘they don’t know how to handle a kid that’s as smart as you, it’s why you have so much free time on your hands. But you disrupted everyone else’s lessons.’ And ‘you need to treat dangerous chemicals with the respect they are due. Oh they weren’t dangerous unless under specific circumstances? My kid is a fucking genius’

Just a good natured, laughing ‘don’t do this again’ and soap is eating. it. up.

The concurrent praise and censure sending all the blood rushing straight to his cock. He’s squirming in his seat as if he’s getting chewed out when really he’s so turned on that he might cum the next time they hit a speed bump.

John pulls into the drive and turns off the truck. He twists to look at soap with a raised eyebrow, “well? Anything to say for yourself?”

And soap breaks down with a ‘please can I suck your cock’ leaning over to try and fumble with John’s belt before he even gets an answer, drool puddling beneath his tongue.

john, who knows full well what praise does to the boy. it's not like soap's ever been covert, wearing those indecently tight gray sweats around so john can see each time his cock twitches and leaks if john so much as tells him he's done a good job cleaning the garage. honestly, he's never met mr. mactavish, but if he ever does, there are a few things he'd like to say to him.

just imagine how much john delights in seeing soap squirm, his hands fidgeting even as he tries to sit on them to hide it, fat thighs covering the worst of his twitchiness but doing nothing to block the blush rising up soap's throat from john's rapt attention. he knows he's got him when the clever little shit has no quips to fire back, just sits and lets the praise and the strange brand of chastisement wash over him. john can be nice when it suits him. can be sweet if it means this finicky little thing that keeps flitting in and out of his hold, too skittish to follow through on his promises, will finally sit still long enough to have a bite taken out of him.

all the better if he thinks it's all his doing, begging to get his mouth on john's cock like he'd ever be able to refuse the boy. look at him, being nice about that, too.

"of course you can, sweet boy. just need something to keep that clever mouth busy, hm? something to focus on so you don't cause too much trouble."

his mam would be so happy to see how far he's come.

[emeralds-city]

Sometimes, it all gets a little too much But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up And you don't have to be afraid, because we're all the same And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much

[anxiouslowercase]

sas rh: let eoin survive the fall au » the astronomer philosopher, the earth and the moon

[itspileofgoodthings]

School is going so great and also I am so exhausted and also I am having an existential crisis

[honeyboyfelix]

*giving my character that mid campaign glow up art*: a tiddy window...cause you also deserve to be a whore

[todayisafridaynight]

Since you mentioned it, what did you think of Speak No Evil? I was thinking of watching it myself :0

i really liked it ............ my friend scoffed at me when i told her i was watchin it so take my opinion with a grain of salt tho </3

[void-tiger]

[grasps the endless like a bunch of colored pencils.]

[makes them become semi-functional siblings that realize they care about eachother even without being asked first, pay up later.]

[shittygothbitch]

>

[nezuscribe]

(previous part)

it's been a week since you've spoken to arranged!gojo, and he feels like he's about to start going crazy.

you don't speak during your meals, not even when he addresses you in a question. sometimes you spare him a glance, but he'd still rather see your icy glare than see nothing at all.

and he knows he fucked up. he knows that you seeing him alone with anya was perhaps the worst possible place you could’ve caught him, but he's been almost begging you to listen to him, to hear his side. but every time he goes to explain you leave abruptly, leaving him alone, feeling the looks of pity from those around the two of you.

and you know you're being petty. after all, the two of you are only bound by words, nothing else. if anything, the two of you were just becoming friends, so this shouldn't hurt you as much as it does.

but you hear the whispers of the ladies, hear of their secret proposals of how gojo would surely bed them if they just asked. how miserable he must be trapped with you, how this marriage is ruining his life. and you know anya, know about her history with him. before you were his wife you were the higher echelon wallflower, listening to all the gossip, observing from afar.

you've gathered some ideas in your head as to why he might want to speak with you. perhaps he wants to gently break the news that he's found a mistress, one that he actually loves. or that maybe he's already had one and now you know why he's been so secretive.

so the more he tries to talk to you, the more you pull away. you don't know why he cares so much, why this even matters to him. if anything, you feel like he should be content with your silence.

but he's not, and gojo grows more restless by the hour.

he decides he can't live like this anymore. tonight he's going to make you listen to him, even if you want nothing to do with him.

you're holed up in your room, talking with alina as she dabs lavender oil on your neck before you go to sleep. you know she knows about your silence with gojo, but ever friend, she does nothing to bring it up.

well, she wouldn't have to if he didn't come knocking feverishly at your door.

you watch in your mirror as she peeks her head out, her gasp of surprise causing a sinking pit to form in your stomach. you can hear how she scrambles with the titles of my lord, how she explains that you're nearly about to go to sleep.

it's late, the only light is the flickering of the candles on your nightstand. he should be asleep by now.

gods, you wonder for the millionth time this week, why does he care so much?

alina finishes up, closing the door slightly as she turns to you, her eyes finding yours in the mirror.

"i'm sorry my lady," she bows her head almost apologetically, "but my lord wants to talk to you. he's requested me to leave...if you'll excuse me," she bows, quickly leaving, not giving you any time to actually excuse her. you know she can't stay any longer, but you do wish she put up more of a fight. you watch her skirt bustle away, the door being left slightly ajar.

you try to act nonchalant, continuing to dab the oil onto your wrists as you look down, even when you hear the door click shut, even when you can feel his presence several feet behind you.

you sigh through your nose, heat rising to your cheeks.

"what?" you bite out, your own voice shocking you. you want to get this over with, not too desperate to hear about how he's ready to take on a mistress and shun you away.

you can hear him take in a deep breath, your eyes briefly looking up in the mirror to catch his, the same ones that make your knees weak, and avert your gaze.

"you haven't spoken to me in over a week," he says after a beat of silence.

you shrug indifferently, despite the fact that he could probably ask you the specific amount of hours it's been since the two of you had talked and you'd give an accurate number.

"i've been busy," you murmur, taking your earrings off as you place them gently in the little glass bowl to the side.

he doesn't say anything about your blatant lie, just nods slowly, as if he understands.

"i missed hearing you talk," gojo tells you quietly, almost as if his voice had been stuck in his throat, and you wonder if any man before him had ever tried to sweet talk his wife before he told her about his new mistress.

you don't say anything, still refusing to look at him as you stand up from your seat, turning off one of the candles near you as you smooth out some of the wrinkles of your nightgown.

"is this what you really want to tell me gojo?" you say bluntly, looking to the side momentarily, getting a longer look at his bulky figure, how he tries to make himself seem smaller, "that you miss my stupid jokes and dull stories?"

"they're not stupid," he quickly cuts in, his voice a little stronger, brows furrowed, "and i like your stories."

you roll your eyes, moving around the bed, to the side where he's not, and fluff your pillows. you've never found this useful, but it gives you something to do with your hands other than fidgeting with them.

truth be told, you're reflecting. you're scared of what it is he has to say, and so you try to appear stronger, and less caring, despite the fact that it's tearing you apart.

you try not to feel self-conscious of the fact that this is his first time ever seeing your room, or the fact that it's so bland. you didn't come to this estate with many things, and so you've tried to spruce up the space as much as you can, but aside from the few flowers and paintings on the wall, you fear it looks bland compared to everything else he's seen.

"and no," gojo adds, running a hand through his already tousled white hair as his arms crossed over his chest, and you finally allow yourself to stare at him, "that's not all i wanted to say."

he paused for a second.

"i don't know why i followed her out, or why i even stayed to hear her speak, but she kept saying these things about..." he trails off, gnawing on his lips as your eyes narrow slightly.

"me?" you finish for him, and his eyes dart to yours.

gojo nods a little bit, arms bulging a little bit as if remembering what she had said.

"i'm used to people staring at me, i lived with it my entire life. but with you, people..." he struggles to find words, "people stare longer. and i don't know why."

you raise a brow.

"do you want me to explain?" you say and he looks at you briefly, almost in a brazen way.

he shakes his head as if he had steered off track.

"that's beside the point. what i wanted to tell you is that she...she was saying some nonsense and i was about to leave until she offered for me to stay at the hostelry she was at." his blue eyes are wavering, his finger itching to get closer to you. this stupid bed is in the middle of you two and he wishes it were gone.

your breathing hitches a little bit, and you hope he doesn't see the sad tilt on your lips.

"so i banished her. or, well, i guess you saw her and then i banished her, but i would've done it regardless," he explains hurriedly, "look, i'm sorry...really sorry. if you want me to-"

"you banished her?" you cut him off, voice raised slightly in confusion.

his mouth gapes open for a second, and then blinks slowly, nodding.

"of...course," he tilts his head, his gorgeous head, slightly "you know that i am married, right? to you? she was offering to-"

"i thought you were going to tell me that you slept with her. o-or i don't know! that you were going to make her your mistress or something!" you spew out, your voice raised as you pace around the floor, moving a little bit closer to him as his eyes widen.

"why would you ever think that?" gojo says in a panicked tone, nothing like the man who commanded the northern army, but more like somebody who was watching his world burn in front of him.

"why?" you exclaim, shocked, "why? are you daft? every single woman wants to sleep with you! every single time we host those dinners, o-or we go to those parties, they look at you and they look at me and they pity you. i hear the whispers of the ladies, how they wouldn't mind being the other woman."

gojo hears the way your voice wavers, how your lips tremble, and the way you try not to let your bottom lip quiver. he sees the way you try to stay strong, to keep your image unbridled, but right now he feels like he's watching you break and he doesn't know what to do.

"so? what makes you think i'd do anything with them?" gojo argues, his voice raised a little bit, not in shouting, but in genuine disbelief.

you take a moment to step back and observe his behavior, and a nagging voice in your head tells you that he's telling you the truth. that he's concerned and worried, that maybe all he came to tell you tonight was an apology.

but that can't be correct.

so you sigh, your arms crossed over your chest protectively.

"i...i don't know," you murmur, "you sleep in another wing, you're always away. i thought...maybe..." you can't meet his eyes, fidgeting with the ring on your finger.

gojo takes a step forward, lips parted, cheeks rosy and flushed.

the two of you don't say anything for a minute, his chest heaving up and down. you feel like there's a weight both removed and added onto your shoulder.

"why didn't you say anything?" he whispers, "did you think...did you think i was...?" he can't finish the sentence, the words themselves too gruesome.

he doesn't say anything as he takes another tentative step closer.

you watch him, your eyes mirroring one another.

"i made a vow to you," his voice is heavy, traveling across the spanning stone walls, going deep into your bones, "and even if you prefer me to be your friend, i'll keep to that vow till the day i die."

your eyes gloss over, lips trembling.

you don't say anything, taking a couple steps forward as you smash against his chest, face crumpling against the stone wall of his torso as you hug him tightly, hoping that he can't feel the tears that seep through his nightshirt.

never in your life has somebody made a promise to you. and never in your life has somebody kept to that promise.

"thank you," you murmur, your voice muffled as his arms wrap around your body, steady and strong.

"and anyways, i'd prefer to be married to you than those miserable women any day," he mumbles into your hair and you laugh wetly, squeezing your arms tighter.

"really?" you say, tears blurring your vision.

"really," he hums, not able to say anything because he fears what you'd say if he told you that he'd rather be your husband and your friend. but he'd keep that inside, respecting your wishes.

if only he knew you wished the same.