#defined completely by his job and what he can do for other people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smileysuh · 11 months ago

Text

Love Plug

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k

🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.

Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.

There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.

You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.

Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?

John: define out. Who is this

Unknown number: shit

Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times

Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n

John: I remember you

John: how much do you need?

Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?

John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour

Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.

When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.

“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”

You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.

“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”

You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.

You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…

You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.

When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.

John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.

“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.

“Hmm?”

“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”

“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”

John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.

“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.

“Is that a rosé?”

You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”

“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.

John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”

“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”

“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”

“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.

“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”

“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”

“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.

John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”

“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”

“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.

Is he asking you out?

Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”

“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”

You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”

The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.

“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.

“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”

You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”

“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”

So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.

John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.

“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.

“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”

You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.

The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.

“It’s going,” she sighs.

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”

“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”

“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”

“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.

“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”

With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.

The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.

“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”

You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”

Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”

“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”

“After I got over how annoying you are.”

John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”

You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.

“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.

You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”

“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.

“How about you? He’s a regular?”

“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”

You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-

Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.

“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”

You consider what she’s just said.

“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”

“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”

“Hmm?”

“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”

“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”

Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”

“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”

“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”

“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”

The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.

“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”

“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”

“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.

“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”

You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.

“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.

Hyuna scoffs loudly.

“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”

“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.

“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”

“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.

You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”

“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.

“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”

You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”

“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”

“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.

“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”

“Deal.”

John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”

You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”

Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.

It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.

“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.

“What sort of movie?” you ask.

“Anything you want.”

“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”

“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”

“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”

“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”

You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.

“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.

John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.

“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”

John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.

“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.

“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”

“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.

“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.

“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”

“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.

“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” you assure him.

“You guys up to anything fun?”

“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.

“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.

Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.

“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”

You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.

You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”

“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.

You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.

John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.

You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-

The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.

“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.

“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”

“Bad guy,” you scoff.

“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”

“You’re a softie.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” you insist.

“Yeah? And how do you figure?”

You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”

You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”

“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”

You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”

He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.

Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.

“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”

“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”

God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?

“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.

Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”

“Do you wanna try it?”

The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.

Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”

He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.

You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.

You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.

“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.

This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.

Like he needs it.

His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.

He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.

Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.

You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.

“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”

“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.

This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.

You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.

“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”

Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.

Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.

He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.

His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.

You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.

Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”

“I’m mostly sober.”

“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”

“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”

“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.

“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.

You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.

“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.

“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”

You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”

“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.

“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.

Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.

He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.

You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.

He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.

He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”

“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”

There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.

As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.

“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.

You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.

Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.

You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.

It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-

God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.

You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.

You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”

You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-

“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.

You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.

Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.

“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.

“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.

Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”

“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.

“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”

“What if I want you now?”

“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”

“What if I want you to wreck me?”

Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”

You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”

The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.

“You know what you said earlier?”

He lets out a humming sound.

“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”

“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”

“Next time?” You cock a brow.

“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”

“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”

“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”

“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”

“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.

In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”

“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”

“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.

“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”

“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

“Should I grab a condom?”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”

He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”

“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”

“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.

You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.

Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”

“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”

He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.

“More.”

Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.

You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.

Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Can I-”

“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”

Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.

You’ll never be the same after this.

No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.

Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.

It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.

“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”

“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”

Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”

Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”

“Me!”

“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”

“Me!”

“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.

“I’m gonna-”

“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”

All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.

You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.

Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.

As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.

He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”

“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.

Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”

When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.

You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.

“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”

“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”

“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”

You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.

Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.

If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.

No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him

You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.

Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.6k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @aaniag

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct johnny #johnny nct #nct johnny smut #johnny nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #johnny suh x reader

3K notes · View notes

kaizokuou-ni-naru · 1 year ago

Note

The "Luffy's fruit is a Zoan" reveal/retcon was extremely controversial when 1044 was first released; do you think Oda did a good job foreshadowing it?

yes!! it addresses a lot of idle questions i had about luffy's powers for quite some time (while also raising a ton more, of course, but that's the nature of one piece).

(all of my thoughts here and on gear 5 in general owe some credit to @grainjew, who has been my main discussion partner on this topic)

luffy's fruit has always been, from what we've seen, kind of weird for a paramecia? obviously since the categorization of 'paramecia' is sort of a grab bag and a lot less well-defined than logias or zoans, that's kind of a hard claim to make, but generally speaking, most of the paramecia users we see throughout the series do not have their powers always on. (the strongest counter-example i could think of to this trend is brook, and even that is one i think you can argue.) luffy's power is way more passive, in the sense that he doesn't have to activate it- it's just there, always. even seastone and seawater do not make luffy not rubber, they just sap his energy and stop him from stretching himself, as we see as early as arlong park.

that is weird! what we see of most other paramecias is that they have to use their powers intentionally, even when those powers do involve transforming their body in some way, like with mr. 1 or alvida. there's a whole plot in dressrosa about knocking a specific paramecia user unconscious so she'll lose her grip on her power and it'll disappear. luffy will stretch when he is asleep, when he is underwater, and without knowing he's doing it. he's always rubber.

so luffy is weird for a paramecia, though not completely unprecedented. his power has always seemed to me to be... almost logia adjacent, in the sense that he's made from a specific material and all his powers are based on being that material, but that doesn't quite track either. aside from the fact that the thing he's composed of is tangible and, again, he can't turn it off, he clearly has access to a greater level of complexity in his transformations than logias do (whose devil fruit powers seem to be basically a binary system).

which actually leads me to compare him to chopper, who is the zoan we know the best, and who, conveniently, also ate a version of the hito hito no mi.

i think the way luffy and chopper interact with their powers is actually very similar. much like luffy, chopper was fundamentally altered by his consumption of a devil fruit in a way he cannot return from. he can still look like a normal reindeer, but he can never actually be one, because the most important trait his devil fruit gave him was human sentience. and he would still have that if you put him in seastone, he just wouldn't be able to transform. similarly, luffy had his body fundamentally altered by his fruit in a manner he does not seem to be capable of even temporarily reversing. he can't make himself not rubber any more than chopper can return himself to being a normal reindeer.

like chopper, luffy's power progression has been based around finding new ways to transform his body and force it into new and more powerful forms. his gears are roughly comparable to chopper's points. that is zoan stuff! chopper is the main other person we see interact with his fruit in that specific way. so, yeah, i actually do think it does make sense for luffy's power to have actually always been a zoan. at the very least, it makes more sense than him being a paramecia, to me.

however, having said that, i also don't think it's as straightforward as luffy just being a zoan instead of a paramecia. we see that the awakening of his fruit definitely has both paramecia and zoan qualities, since he's transforming both himself and the environment around him, as well as other people. (the wiki puts this down to him being a mythical zoan but i just don't think that's true. kaidou is also a mythical zoan and he is completely baffled by what he's seeing.)

i made a bunch of jokes in discord about luffy being devil fruit nonbinary while i was reading this chapter- there's three genders and you have to pick one, and you can't just go switching it up, etc- and i do think that what luffy's fruit indicates is that the sorting system of devil fruits itself is imperfect. outliers do exist that don't fit cleanly between the lines- which we already knew! just look at katakuri.

#i have a lot more thoughts on the thematic resonance and plot significance of g5 #which i WILL get to also. but thats outside the scope of this ask #jonny answers #one piece #not japanese #luffy #gear 5 #opmeta #character meta

1K notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 2 months ago

Note

Hey Shan!! IDK if you're planning to do a BL wrap up or superlatives or anything like that this year so this question might be a bit too early but um...what has been a few of your favorite first watches for 2024 bls?

Hi Eboni! This is actually pretty good timing for a list because most of the shows that will end within 2024 are already over! The only two I could see maybe making my list that have not ended yet are Love is Like a Poison (Japan) and Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China), so I'll mention them here (fingers crossed they end well and stay favs).

That said, here are my favorite completed BLs of 2024 (alpha order)!

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

Two actors who first met in college are cast in a bl together, old feelings resurface, and the lines between their professional and private lives start to blur. This show is super beautiful and moody.

Cooking Crush (Thailand, YouTube or WeTV for uncut)

Ten and Prem are my favorite of OffGun's many couples. Ten is a med student with food issues who wants to learn how to cook, and Prem is a chef in training. Their romance is super sweet and I also really like the side couple and friend groups in this one.

Cherry Magic Thailand (Thailand, YouTube or Viu, requires VPN)

I still can't believe this show happened. How on earth did GMMTV manage to make a superior version of Cherry Magic?? Tay Tawan had a lot to do with it, along with a very smart adaptation. It's so sweet and funny and perfect (if you just pretend ep 8 doesn't exist).

City of Stars (Thailand, iQIYI)

I was surprised by how much I liked this charming little Thai pulp. It had an interesting story with strong writing and the pair was very good together. More people should watch it!

I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama (Japan, Gaga)

This is a short and sweet and note perfect BL comedy about two actors falling for each other while making a BL. Loaded with meta jokes about the industry and stan culture and very loving about it.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

I am obsessed with this excellent Thai BL that not nearly enough people watched. Two couples, both compelling and sexy and fun, and amazing friendship dynamics. I want everyone to watch it!

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (S Korea, iQIYI)

My top BL of the year. It's a second chance romance, you see the characters both in high school and later as adults and I don't really want to spoil anything else about it. It's beautiful, the characters are so compelling, and the story is masterfully told.

Love for Love's Sake (S Korea, iQIYI)

This one is special and quite unique, and I also don't want to spoil much about it! It begins with a basic isekai set up that then goes to some unexpected places. Really, really beautiful show.

Love Sea (Thailand, iQIYI)

Definitely my favorite spicy romance of the year. I really loved a lot about the story for this one, in particular the class dynamics that defined the characters and their relationship, and Mahasamut (played by Fort) is on my list of favorite drama characters this year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

We didn't get much from the Philippines this year, but they did drop one absolute banger in this show about a fierce and proud gay kid who gets booted out of school in Manila and sent to live with his grandma and mother on a small island. He makes friends and enemies and starts an LGBTQ+ club, and falls in love along the way.

Mr Mitsuya's Planned Feeding (Japan, fansub)

An excellent age gap romance about a young editor and the chef who writes for his magazine making food together and falling in love. Lots of fun side characters, too. I loved every minute of this show.

Perfect Propose (Japan, Gaga)

Two old friends meet when one of them is in need of housing and one is on the verge of a nervous breakdown from a soul-sucking corporate job, and help each other heal. This one is short and sweet.

Ossan's Love Returns (Japan, Gaga)

This one is technically a sequel, but you can enjoy it without having seen the original (and might like it better that way, tbh). One of the funniest shows of the year and featuring a main couple that is a personal fav and are now on my ride or die list.

Takara's Treasure (Japan, Gaga)

This one is a simple story but so, so sweet. A cute little bean follows his mysterious idol to university and joins the hiking club to get to know him better. They get to know each other slowly and fall in love.

Unknown (Taiwan, Viki)

ALMOST my favorite bl of the year, but we had a few issues on the back end. Despite that, I still loved it a whole lot. A family drama and a love story about two chosen brothers whose relationship changes over time. Easily the best BL Taiwan made this year.

Looking at this list, I am realizing how absolutely invaluable my Gaga and iQIYI subscriptions have become; it's where nearly all my favorite BL is airing.

147 notes · View notes

magnuspanoptes · 2 months ago

Text

readings of the podcast which try to frame jon as having been tragically manipulated and forced through every decision by elias are of no interest to me. because it's not true, is it. when elias tells him in mag 92 "you always chose to see," he's being cruel, yes. victim blaming him, even. but to completely disregard it as an attempt at manipulation would be a mistake. much of the podcast is about exploiting people's trauma. as i've said before, jon's role as head archivist, back when it was still presented as a mundane office job to the audiences, and he hadn't developed any beholding powers yet, involved filing away statement givers' trauma without offering help of any kind. the institute subsists on this form of exploitation, in a literal sense obviously, because it's a temple to the eye. but even if you take that reveal away, it's also true in simply an administrative sense in season one. and jon used to ruthlessly dismiss every single statement giver with as much apathy as he could muster (while knowing that if a statement doesn't record digitally, then it's the truth), and note that faking skepticism was a form of coping mechanism for him, it was the choice between making statement givers feel small or making himself feel vulnerable—and is this not simply the bureaucratic version of what he does later as a supernatural avatar of the beholding, vampirically feeding on people's terror to stay alive or risk being consumed by the eye?

(Season 3) MAG 117 - "Testament" // (Season 4) MAG 142 - "Scrutiny"

of course, i'm not saying he bought it on himself, that he deserved to be put in an impossible situation later for being an arse in season one. jon too, has had his trauma exploited in the form of a guest for mr spider, an experience which eventually led him to the magnus institute where he would help fulfill the web's designs. so, in the grand scheme of things everyone was puppeteered by forces beyond their control, but would you excuse jonah for eveything he's ever done because of it? then why must jon be rendered completely non-agentic? yes, elias manipulated him, but he has never had to straight up coerce jon into anything. jon's just always done what's been expected of him. because they're alike. their shared desire for knowledge originates from fear. jon always chose to see because something had hurt him once and he needed answers, and we can assume jonah chose the beholding because it was the only entity which would expose him to information on all the other fears. knowledge is a means of survival for both of them, an inclination which later manifests literally as they become avatars who must subsist on terror. it all really comes down to letting yourself be exploited or exploiting someone else to escape that fate (you don't escape, not really, nobody does in the podcast), and jon did choose (with as much agency he could've possibly had in a story like this). the difference between them being that elias feels no remorse for his choice, but jon's character is defined by the enormous guilt he feels about the things he has done and what he must do to continue living, until he doesn't.

#surely he's the same #a man's eating habits #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #jonelias #<- as i've said before all my posts about jon & elias are jonelias (implied). so.#tma text #*

117 notes · View notes

rosyandraw · 3 months ago

Note

Please write the damen thesis

I fucking love a good Captive Prince meta and as you didn’t give me any direction or specific topic that you wanted to see I’m just going to have a play around with the narrative themes and Damen's arc, so here’s a 3k late night caffeine induced ramble about Damen that might not be 100% coherent:

Damen and the Sword of Damocles or: The Burden of Duty.

In the legend Damocles made the mistake of commenting about the apparent happiness of the tyrant king Dionysus. Dionysus who, in actuality, is terrible and a big fat emo, figured he’d invite Damocles to dinner where Damocles was pampered, spoilt, and treated to a good time. However, Dionysus had hung a big ass sword over Damocles, hanging by a single hair and it could fall at any moment. Once Damocles noticed, he realised he couldn’t enjoy any of the dinner any more or any of the amazing things happening to him and around him.

The sword of Damocles has come to mean imminent danger. In the legend it was a symbol of the price of power. Power is a burden and as long as you have it you must constantly be vigilante, no desire or earthly pleasure will come without the knowledge that at any moment it can disappear, it might even mean very little because of it. Almost as if the ultimate price of power is the sacrifice of the things you might want.

And therein lies the central themes of Captive Prince: power, and duty vs desire.

Damen, much like Damocles in the beginning of his tale with Dionysus, was completely blind to the danger that was hanging over him. Damen didn’t so much notice the sword hanging over him as Jokaste pointed a big neon flashing sign at it in all its horrendous glory.

Damen is, for the first time, confronted by the idea that power is not a stable or steady notion. Or state of being. And he had, until this point, taken it for granted. Blind to the reality of what it meant and the sword hanging over him.

That’s not to say I think Damen is completely naïve. He knows power has costs, but his own specific psychology allows it be far away, it just is what it is for him. Something he just has to do and so locks it away. It’s the battle at Marlas: a job to be done. It’s being separate from others both personally and professionally (separate from his men, separated from Nikandros and not being able to serve at the Kings Meet, no close connections etc), it’s having to be perfect (clearly extensively trained and educated) and working hard and duty above all. But the threat?

The throne lies in the shadow of the gallows and Damen is for the first time recognising how precarious power is, how poisonous, how close the threat can fester.

Damen’s entire journey from then on, he is in a continued state of fight or flight, and that sword hanging over him does not get any lighter or any less perilous. (I could likewise talk about Damen and Laurent’s super interesting fight or flight reactions but that is a topic for another time lmao)

Damen’s journey, and his arc throughout the trilogy, can be stripped back to the notion of power and his attempt to regain his own. It’s loss, it’s meaning, how he defines himself and the world and what he understands of it: all of these relate to Damen’s understanding of, and struggle with, his own power. In its most basic form Damen loses his crown and his journey is about retaking it. The crown, we know, is the ultimate symbol of power. It’s all very blatant. Especially when coupled together with power in its most physical sense as one of Damen’s most frequented attributes from scene to scene. Damen is powerful, strong, and wilful, people listen to him, he has an unshakeable determination and has a pretty astounding effect on those around him even when he is unaware of it. Damen, we are told, is a King. Not just by birthright but in action. He has all the makings and markings of a leader. Because of this Damen always has some sense of power.

We see it over and over in a myriad of different scenes: Damen’s true sense of power is innate to himself and his abilities. Especially with a sword in hand. Damen is all wrapped up quite obviously in the theme.

However, though Damen’s journey to regain his power is the main focus of the narrative, it’s not his arc. Damen’s real journey, his internal struggle, is all about his identity.

Again, at its most basic, it seems heavy handed to say so: Damen spends the mass majority of the books hiding his identity after all, so of course it’s a theme, of course his slow decisive fight for his own power walks hand in hand with clawing back his identity. However, as we know, by the end of the trilogy we are very much aware that Damen’s identity journey was never about the crown. It was never about coming clean or using his real name and title. It was never about the unveiling of himself to all of those around him to be known. It was about discovering himself. Damen the man and not Damianos the prince.

And this dichotomy sets the stage for the real journey of Captive Prince: duty vs desire.

Damianos of Akielos: the rightful king, the son and heir, The Noble Man. He is the consummate Crown Prince, a military commander, an astute -almost legendary- warrior. The Perfect Son. The man who cares what people see of him, who is bound by tradition and expectation. The face of power and duty.

Damen the man: gives no fucks what people see of him, desperate for affection but afraid to ask for it, lost and full of doubt, empty no matter how he indulges himself. Almost self destructive and negligent with his own safety as if he has something to prove, as if he’s always striving for something, mad at his father, confused by his brother, indulgent of his own wants without thought because it’s easier than questioning. His dead mother’s son, his father’s hope. Compassionate and protective and innately aware of other peoples vulnerability. This is his internal face, the man and not the crown. Full of desire and emotionally broken.

Damen has, for a long time, kept himself at arms-length. Nikandros is his only real friendship, his tragic family life is nothing but duty and trauma. His love life is full of sex and no emotional intimacy. He never, not once, considered Jokaste as anything but his mistress. It wasn’t Jokaste that broke his heart, it was Kastor. She is explicitly his mistress; someone he is intimate with only during sex. She’s not his future and she knows this. She will never be Damen’s queen; it never even crosses his mind.

I assume Damen, like most princes, thought he’d marry for duty. A political marriage that would ultimately not be his choice, so why bother getting close?

This is where the masculine culture of Akielos would come into play and we could spend hours here playing around with the heteronormative aspects of both Akielos and Vere (normalised queer sexual relationships aside there are deep underlying mentalities here surrounding the themes of submission and masculinity and what is Acceptable. I liken it to Rome in this respect: totally cool to stick your dick wherever if you are a citizen, not so cool to take a dick unless you are in a category Roman's viewed as inferior, but that's an entire essay unto it self). This is yet one more place wherein Damen struggles and where his wants don't necessarily align with the expectation of him. Bottom line: Damen doesn't really personally give a shit, but Damianos does. And we see this by the Akielon (Nikandros and Makedon) reaction to Damen's cuffs, scars and circumstance and how Damen reacts to these things both as his own person, and as a man who knows how Akielos will perceive it.

Segregation, compartmentalisation, and separation. These three are the main components of Damen’s trauma manifesting in his personality. I could talk about his psychology, his trauma, how and why this happened. But that is a different discussion for a different day. Right now, all we need to be aware of is that Damen does this in every single aspect of his being and within the narrative.

He does it with sex (separating the physical and the emotional), his trauma (stowing it away and dismissing it instead of feeling it, as if acknowledging and feeling were one and the same), with politics (slavery, Akielos vs Vere), with his father (the king vs the man), with his brother (the resentment he is aware of vs the desperate want of his brother), what he thinks he needs vs what he wants.

Damen never sees himself as a slave. Never not once, does he doubt himself in this regard. He doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t allow himself to feel it. Not truly, there is never a breakdown, never a moment in the first two books where this terrible tragic traumatic thing gets the better of him.

This is because Damen has always split himself in half this way. We see it again and again, explicitly, and implicitly, Damen is a man of two faces.

Damianos the Crown and Damen the man. This is how he keeps himself so separate from the shackles he finds himself in. Because it’s not him, not really, and only someone used to compartmentalising aspects of themselves could do what Damen does in Vere as easily as he does.

It is no surprise that the real meeting of those two faces is what causes Damen to (finally) spiral. Not well, of course, Damen’s too controlled to spiral fully, but Damen only loses his shit a handful of times in all 3 books (and considering his chronic fight or flight is popping the fuck off it's actually super impressive but I digress).

I’m talking the out-of-control kind of loses his shit, and almost all of them are for Laurent. These are: the kidnappers in Vask when they lay suggestive hands on Laurent and Damen reacts to Laurent’s innate sense of vulnerability in this regard, it’s not jealousy, it’s because Damen is, at heart, a protector.

The Kings Meet, where Damen’s rage for Laurent sees him absolutely lose it at one of his Kingdoms most sacred places. Again, it’s not jealousy, it’s not even something he digests because fundamentally Damen already knew. He just hadn’t confronted it, allowed himself to think of it, so when it’s spelled out for him he doesn’t question, he just reacts. With rage. For Laurent.

There are only 2 other times Damen really loses it on page where it comes out as pure Viking Berserker rage: Charcy and with Makedon. Both of these times he has been pushed to the end of his emotional tether and he snaps.

Which is odd for Damen, who has so much control. It’s no surprise these things occur after the clash of his two faces when Nikandros and an Akielon army kneels for him at Ravenel. Charcy, where the man in love is determined and worried and willing to hope for Laurent. Where the Rightful King is very fucking aware that he should be heading south and this battle is not tactically something he needs to do or even that he should do and that his men are certainly not on board with.

Makedon, we know, is a target for Damen’s rage because he is there. But he’s not really attacking Makedon, it’s everything, the accumulation of hit after hit that breaks because, again, Damen is at the absolute end of his emotional tether. With Laurent, with Kastor, with Jokaste, with his position, with the future opening up before him where he knows he can’t win the way he wants. Because at that point, his real wants are impossible. And the prospect opening up before him is cold and empty and a crown he should never have had to fight for, against a man he loves even now despite everything. Abusers, we know, are good at getting that response from their victims.

If Damen had had those two aspects of himself confronted before he fell in love with Laurent then nothing would have changed. He could have walked away safe and sound and kept his world view and his deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms entirely intact.

But that’s not what happens. Damianos the Crown and Damen the man can no longer hide from each other by the time reality comes calling at Ravenel.

Because he does fall for Laurent and he recognises that it is directly in conflict with his mission, with his duty and his crown. Damen’s narrative journey to regain his own power is tied explicitly and irrevocably to his identity struggle and his love story. His love for Laurent is the trigger that bursts the dam in his head and he sees himself, finally, as a man split in half. Is forced to confront the dissonance within himself as Laurent’s lover and as his own man.

In the end of the legend Damocles decided he would never want to trade places with the King, realising that power was, in fact, a burden, and he would rather enjoy his life.

But Damen is the King. Unlike Damocles he already has power. His struggle then, is not only about recognising the burden that comes with power, but reconciling his world view to include the sword he had been fortunate enough to never really notice.

It becomes a struggle between the opposing wants within Damen: duty and power vs love and desire and how to reconcile them.

In other words: A kingdom, or this?

Damen, like Damocles, learns his lesson. Hard and fast but it takes a while for him to frame that in his reality. More importantly, to frame Laurent in that reality.

Because Laurent is not blind to that sword. He has been painfully aware of that sword for a long time. His though, his less of a burden and more of a threat, he lets the sword hang or he dies. There is no alternative for Laurent.

Laurent’s struggle, similar and yet so contrasting to Damen, is that he has ignored the feast entirely. He indulged once, saw the sword and concentrated on nothing else from then on. Laurent’s reconciliation between duty and desire is not the same as Damen’s, in fact it is much more blatant. He doesn’t let himself feel desire but for life (power) to mean anything he has to let it in eventually or else it’s empty. Nothing but the constant anxious vigilance of waiting for danger and despair.

It's no life.

A kingdom or this then, duty vs love, becomes a motif for Damen reconciling the parts of himself that are newly discovered to him with the man his father, Nikandros, Akielos, wants or needs him to be. To Damen, duty and his fight for the crown is Damianos the prince. It’s his birth right, it’s who he is, who he was raised to be and Akielos is his home. His everything. Except Damen, the man, knows that it’s empty, that being perfect meant nothing in the end and as a man, he wants love. Would throw everything else away for it.

Reconciling those two opposing but equally as devastatingly consuming wants becomes the focal point of King’s Rising.

The merging, of course, narratively, comes at Ravenel. When Damen watches Nikandros and his men go to their knees for Damianos. The internal merging however, the reconciliation, comes at Karthas. With Laurent, when he uses, for the first time, both of Damen’s names in bed. That is the moment we see Damen stitch himself together, realign himself, a camera coming into focus. Damianos the King, the representation of duty, meeting Damen the man and the representation of desire. Quite literally, coming together.

We know this is the moment for Laurent too, for vastly different reasons, but Laurent makes his choices here too. He already knows what he’s going to do here, and so does Damen. The choice has been made, the stage is set, the final ball is in motion.

The readers are, of course, rooting for both. For Damen to win his crown and keep Laurent. We know there will be a choice now and when it does finally come to that choice Damen and Laurent are on the same page and make the same choices. Winning their crowns was a happy accident. Because they both choose this.

Laurent gave himself up for Damen without hesitation. He chose love. Damen throws himself on the mercy of the court knowing he was likely going to die just so that Laurent would not be alone. Those are not the choices of Kings. It’s not duty. Those are the choices made with love and with little regard for anything but that love.

Laurent, we know, knows that Damen can beat the Regent. The Regent has not won against him yet. It’s somewhat tactical but it’s hypothetical, a conciliation or justification of the sacrifice he’s making. Getting the Regent out of Akielos, giving himself up, makes Damen safer, because Laurent knows that Damen retaking the throne in Akielos is a matter of time, they won’t stand against him for long, he knows this. The Regent muddies the waters. But Damen is, canonically, the only person who has baffled and beat the Regent from day one. Laurent is that confident in Damen. But, as I said, those are his justifications. Not his reasons.

Damen doesn’t even try to justify it; he goes so that Laurent is not alone. That’s his choice. Winning their crowns was an afterthought.

Damen doesn’t do it blindingly, he is painfully aware of the sword hanging over him, the consequences of those choices, but it is the moment where Damen decides that the feast in front of him is still worth it. If the sword falls it falls. It doesn’t matter what he does, if it’s going to fall it will fall regardless but if he doesn’t take what’s in front of him then the rest will mean absolutely fucking nothing. It is, for them both, a very conscious decision.

It does, of course, end with the bells. A two-fold symbol we all have been conditioned to accept as an ending: a Disney inspired Pavlovian response. It’s the hero’s arc complete, it’s the journey’s end, the signal of both a victory, and in every fairy-tale ever: a wedding.

Or: a kingdom and this, the real merging.

So there we go, hope you like it dear. You're lucky it was this and not word vomit about the sword throw scene because it very nearly was my dude.

#Captive Prince #capri #meta #damen of akielos #damianos of akielos #Laurent of vere #lamen #I got carried away soz

83 notes · View notes

highseas-swede · 1 year ago

Text

Aziraphale and Trauma

[Just a note that I initially wrote this in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/theangelyouknew/732357015604756480?source=share&ref=_tumblr which is full of insightful info. I'm reposting my response here with some minor edits so it's easier to find in tags.]

This is something I actually find interesting within the fandom, because there seems to be this weird divide in fandom when it comes to Aziraphale.

See, I love Aziraphale. I think he's an amazing and well nuanced character, but a lot of the time fandom boils him down into this really simple version of himself. This happens both with people who dislike him and claim he's a bad person as well as with those who want to soften him up and make him more palatable. Aziraphale isn't the only one who has trouble with black and white thinking here!

Things like Coffee Theory remove Aziraphale's agency because the thought of Aziraphale doing something to hurt Crowley deliberately is something they can't stomach. If Aziraphale is acting under some kind of major magical influence, it means that it's possible to brush over the fact that he can - and has - hurt Crowley in the past and it certainly hasn't always been accidental.

There's a lot of Psychology I could touch on here, but it's honestly such a complicated topic that I don't really feel I can do it justice attached to a completely different topic.

But one thing I do want to touch on a bit is how Aziraphale asserts control in his own life via his connection with Crowley, and that touches on something equally complicated, which is something that's probably hard to understand.

Abuse victims are often manipulative.

I don't mean this at all as some kind of slight or insult. I've been an abuse victim myself and it's one reason I know it's true.

Fandom talks a lot about Crowley's trauma and he's got loads, to be sure. I think of that meme about "this bad boy can fit a lot of trauma" and it's very true. I've even seen people mention that Aziraphale has a different kind of Trauma than Crowley, which is also true.

What I haven't seen is someone addressing that the type of religious trauma is a form of CPTSD. CPTSD or "Complex PTSD" is a very specific form of PTSD. PTSD is characterized as being the result of a traumatic event - Crowley's fall, for example, is a good example of PTSD and I can go into that at some point. CPTSD is different because it's not a singular event, it's the result of being in a constant high stress situation. A lot of abuse victims - especially those abused by parental figures or significant others - have this form of PTSD.

A good way to see the difference is in comparing how they relate to their trauma. When Crowley thinks he's lost Aziraphale in S1, it sends him into a spiral. But importantly we see that this traumatic event is causing Crowley to go back to another traumatic event in time, triggering his memories of his fall. This emphasizes how much Crowley's fall defines his trauma. We rarely see him experiencing trauma at the hands of Hell, as he's mostly allowed freedom to handle his job on earth the way he wants.

https://cptsdfoundation.org/ defines CPTSD as "the results of ongoing, inescapable, relational trauma. Unlike Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Complex PTSD typically involves being hurt by another person. These hurts are ongoing, repeated, and often involving a betrayal and loss of safety."

In humans, this is caused by having no sense of safety in key moments of development. It strips away sense of self, sense of worth and really any agency. We even see the angels using direct gaslighting tactics on Aziraphale in S2, which I'm surprised doesn't get mentioned more often: When they come to the bookshop looking for Gabriel, they mention Gabriel and then almost immediately when Aziraphale asks "you were looking for Gabriel", Uriel outright says a line that goes something like "Did we say we were looking for Gabriel?", leading Aziraphale to fumble and try to remember if they did, in fact, say that at some point (they did).

So, one big thing to know about CPTSD and this kind of abuse related trauma is that learning to lie and be manipulative is often what people have to do to survive. Children with abusive parents will learn how to be manipulative in order to get what they need or avoid losing things they need.

We see this with Aziraphale, time and time again. He could just ASK Crowley for things he wants. A lot of people point out that he could ask and that Crowley would probably give in to him most of the time anyway. But that's not how it works in an abusive home. Instead, Aziraphale maneuvers Crowley into situations where Crowley is forced to give him what he needs or wants.

His lack of agency, as a result of his CPTSD, is also why he needs to be worked into making decisions that he already knows - or at least suspects - are right. That's why they have their little dance every time Crowley has to talk Aziraphale into something by finding the right way to frame it so it makes sense with Aziraphale's strict rule structure. These rules exist as a defensive mechanism too. Having rules makes it easier to figure out how to avoid being hurt and Aziraphale cannot simply step outside the rules because it's Not Safe. Not even with someone he trusts as much as Crowley.

The entire apology dance scene stands out for a few reasons. Everything Aziraphale does in the entire scene is an act that allows him to take control of the situation. He's already won, so to speak, because Crowley is back and Crowley is going to do what he wants. The apology is unnecessary on every level.

This post talks about how uncomfortable Crowley has to be sharing a space with Gabriel. Gabriel is with the abusive team, whether or not he was directly involved with Crowley's fall. Crowley also harbors a severe distress and mistrust of Gabriel because of Gabriel's attempts to destroy Aziraphale, the most important person to Crowley. But it's worth noting that Aziraphale is uncomfortable too.

Another good indicator of how stressed Aziraphale is with all this is that he doesn't eat ANYTHING when Gabriel is in the shop. The only food he consumes in modern era is when he's in the Bentley which is a "safe" space. Gabriel constantly hounded Aziraphale over eating and despite offering Gabriel hot chocolate, we don't see him partaking himself. He does briefly drink to demonstrate how "drinking tea" works for Muriel, but he doesn't seem to drink from his cup at all after demonstrating.

The bookshop is also Aziraphale's safe space, his ONLY safe space - Crowley still technically has the Bentley, and honestly I feel like Aziraphale wanting to borrow the Bentley is actually partially because he needs to get away from Gabriel and the Bentley is the only place that feels safe for him at the moment. Shax ruins any illusion of safety for him, but Aziraphale is much more enthused for his trip in ep3 and a fair amount of it is because he's not trapped with Gabriel.

A small note here, as a thought occurs to me. Aziraphale asserting that the Bentley is "our car" is probably mostly for himself. He's trying to realign his thinking to make the Bentley an acceptable "safe space" for himself prior to the trip.

There is a very different relationship dynamic when it comes to Gabriel and Aziraphale because Gabriel is the constant source of Aziraphale's trauma. He's Aziraphale's superior, the one he has to report to, the one who passes down his missions and his punishments. When Aziraphale takes Gabriel in, he's just invited his former abuser of over 6000 years into his safe haven. This is a hugely uncomfortable thing for an abuse survivor.

Worst of all, because Jim is, for all intents and purposes, NOT Gabriel, Aziraphale can't bring himself to lash out at his former abuser the way he wants to.

That brings us back to this apology scene.

There are two major things going on here and both of them are bad and hurtful toward Crowley. They're also both intensely unfair. I love Aziraphale but this was definitely a dick move.

Firstly: Aziraphale is using Crowley to reassert a sense of control over the situation because he is spiraling. He can't assert control over his life and his shop, which is one thing that he falls back on heavily, and that leaves him scrambling to find somewhere where he can control his situation. He makes Crowley go through this whole unnecessary apology and dance routine because it makes him feel like he has control over SOMETHING in his life right now.

Secondly: Aziraphale is also enacting his own trauma on Crowley. He's treating Crowley the way Heaven treats him. This is a direct parallel to the way Crowley terrorizes his house plants because he can't do anything to the people who actually caused his trauma. This is, obviously, wildly unfair of Aziraphale to do - and I'm fairly sure there are other small moments where Aziraphale does this in a mild way, I'd have to rewatch again.

These are both behaviors common in CPTSD caused by environments that apply this constant state of stress.

I'm not going to say it's right, or that Aziraphale isn't being a bit of a bastard in this moment - he absolutely is - but this behavior does have some obvious triggers that might be easy to overlook. It's just important to understand that Aziraphale is falling into self-preservation habits that are actively detrimental to his relationship with Crowley. It's not just the manipulation, he's also hiding things and lying to Crowley when he really shouldn't be - both things often necessary in abusive environments - but he's doing it because that's the method that he's created that works with his abusive relationship in Heaven and he's falling back on it because he feels unsafe. The trouble is, this survival tactic does not work with Crowley and actively makes things worse because it shuts down open communication entirely.

#Aziraphale #Good Omens #Good Omens Meta #good omens s2 #aziraphale meta #crowley x arizaphale #CPTSD discussion

413 notes · View notes

yois2aki · 10 months ago

Text

੭୧ chishiya realizing he's in love with reader... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader (requested)

— warnings: fluff, ooc chishiya, maybe a rough talk at the start, chishiya is just shy and in denial...

— summary: chishiya doesn't like being in love after experiencing it for the first time.

— word count: 1.3k

it's irrational. it's irrational and a waste of time.

chishiya believed he had long ago lost all his will to live. he was barely capable of feeling simple human emotions after viewing firsthand how ruthless those same human beings can be to each other.

children die everyday due to the crazy prices of medicine their parents can't afford. women are abused and sexualized and after speaking up somehow it is their fault. lives are taken away only for the fact that others seem more valuable to the society. people choose money over their own loved ones. he's seen it all throughout his course of life, his job as a future doctor not helping the attempts he would make to distract himself from this reality. this is what made him so emotionally distant.

chishiya couldn't comprehend why people took their lives so seriously, trying their best to make it out alive of the deathly games they were condoned with. anyone could die at any given moment, doesn't matter if they are in the borderlands or not. after all, unless you have money and power, in a few years no one will remember who you were.

he considered altruism useless, prioritizing his own life instead of others. if he could help someone who was at the doors of death with no negative outcome, he'd choose not to interfere, knowing that same person would die sooner or later.

and in truth, you were the complete opposite of him. if he had to define altruism in a word, he would say your name.

you made no absolute sense in his mind. so why did he feel so attracted to your mindset? why did he want to constantly learn more about what you believed in? and why did he feel so different around you?

chishiya had never felt this way about anything. so when he realized how his heart fluttered when you looked his way, or how his smart head unlearned how to properly think when you both had a deep talk, he was nothing more and nothing less than afraid. afraid that what he was feeling for another human being was love, a big flaw in the borderlands.

sometimes at night he'd ponder about how things would have turned out if he had met you in the real world. if things would have been easier there, and if he wouldn't be as afraid.

"do you like them?" kuina asked, straightforward as usual, as he stared endlessly at your back from the other side of the main division of the beach. "if you like them, you should date."

"i don't like them." he replied sourly, not bothering to bat an eye towards kuina, knowing well she'd have an eyebrow raised to show her uncertainty to what he just affirmed. "i just think they're smart, is all."

chishiya knew deep down he was lying, but he couldn't get his mind wrapped around the fact he might be falling for someone, his only visible option at the moment being denial, denial and denial.

"they could die at any moment," kuina said, a hand moving to her dummy cigarette as she kept chewing on it, now her eyes were also on you. "you should tell them about your feelings already."

"i already told you i don't have feelings for them." chishiya rolled his eyes. kuina had always spoke what comes to mind and it wasn't something chishiya liked about her, especially when it was directed towards him.

but he couldn't help but stop for a while, as his mind betrayed him and let his heart take over. was it that obvious? he definitely didn't like you, he just resonated with your standards, that's it. or maybe it was a small crush, and something he didn't want to ponder a lot. he would get over it in about two weeks.

which obviously wasn't true. actually, his admiration grew stronger, but now not only honing on your mental capability, but also your physical features. you were exactly his type, he had to admit.

he could be planning something devious inside his mind, or imagining ways he could make the stupid militants shut up for once. but all it would take was a glance at those sweet eyes of yours, staring deeply right onto his, and that damned cute smile — which he learned to love hate — you give him when you both walk past each other in the halls, that his mind would completely fly elsewhere. all his deceitful schemes he spent so much time and effort coming up with late at night, now long forgotten. everything that occupied his mind being you.

before he could realize it, he was standing awkwardly on one of the halls for the hotel rooms. he was probably going to his own, until you showed up and flashed him a quick smile of sympathy, moving the opposite way from his and paying not too much mind.

it was such a simple activity, something he used to do with his colleagues on the real world, or even with strangers that were having a very nice day. yet his face felt like it was on fire, his heart about to leave his own body, and his legs couldn't work anymore. suddenly your voice was heard from behind, and he could only freeze completely.

"chishiya?" you sounded honest, a bit of worry present on your tone. "are you alright?"

shivers went down his spine as he, for once, didn't know what to say. typically, when someone has a crush, all they want to do is to spend time with them. but for some reason, all chishiya wanted you to do was get out of his way. perhaps it was due to the lack of care he received throughout his entire childhood, but he didn't like this feeling. being in love was terrifying.

but he guessed it had to happen someday. everyone falls in love, and it ended up being his turn. it wasn't something he was used to. love wasn't an exact thing, like maths or biology, that's based off of facts. it all depended. he couldn't predict the outcome by reading your body language or solving equations with an abacus. everything was subjective.

he took a deep breath and didn't move from his position, instead focusing on letting his voice come out as nonchalant as possible.

"mhm." he mumbled, immediately wanting to punch himself in the face.

he bit his lip in embarrassment. no one would ever answer someone with "mhm" after being asked about their doings, especially not him.

"are you sure?" you asked again, moving closer to him to check on his face.

as soon as he heard your steps, he started moving himself, his body betraying his heart. he tried hiding his face with the hood, as he walked slightly faster than you.

it didn't take long for you to notice he probably didn't want to talk, so instead you just stopped and watched his back move further and further from you.

"i'm..." he started, his face turning to the side to let you know he was speaking to you, his feet not stopping. "i'm getting something from my room. goodbye."

and with that you were left alone and confused on that same hall, after he made a turn at a corner and went who knows where. you had never seen chishiya this nervous, but didn't fret too much about it, instead planning on asking kuina what was going on later.

in truth, chishiya had rushed to his bedroom and closed himself inside with the key he created since locking doors wasn't allowed at the beach. his back stuck to the door, as he breathed in and out frantically. he had looked like an idiot and knowing he did it in front of you didn't help.

this was chishiya's first time being in love and according to his analysis, he hated it.

— a/n: CHISHISYSTATYAAAAA </3 the day i write something not cute about chishiya help me because i might not be myself... i love him i need to see him pathetic rn..... hope u guys liked it!

344 notes · View notes

mochegato · 28 days ago

Text

Mistletoe Mayhem

“Explain it to me again,” Jon prompted as he trailed behind Damian.

Damian’s lips pursed like he was trying to hold back from exploding. “We are here to assis…”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard that. But why are we here?” he asked. “This seems like something one of the big guys would want to be involved in.”

Damian scoffed and shoved his hands further into his pockets. The Parisian winter, which had just started brushing the ground with a light dusting of flurries, nipping at his bare fingers. “We are more than sufficient to assist in ending their rogue. We do not need others interfering.”

“They are facing an emotion based rogue. Can you imagine Green Arrow or my father coming here. It would be like handing the rogue a nuclear weapon. The local team has been doing an admirable job thus far, but such an opponent would be disastrous.”

“Right,” Jon drawled. “But you wouldn’t have that issue.”

“Naturally,” he scoffed.

“Naturally,” Jon repeated in a mocking tone. “But neither would Dick. So tell me again, why us?”

Damian growled and yanked out his phone, checking it for a moment before glancing around them suspiciously then turning into an alley. “Because I have a relationship with the local hero team leader.”

Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Relationship?”

“I have consulted with the leader several times. Built up a… trust,” he finished with what would have sounded like certainty if Jon didn’t know Damian so well.

He eyed Damian suspiciously. “Define several times.”

“More than a few,” he growled back. He looked around again before glowering at Jon. “Now, let’s get to the roof.”

Damian climbed up to the roof with little effort, followed quickly by Jon who was barely using any powers to keep up. As soon as they settled, Jon smiled at the festively decorated little patio. There were lights hung around the sides and wrapped around the railing, ornaments hanging all around, and even a small tree, lit up and decorated brightly enough that people on the street would be able to see it.

“Damian!”

Jon looked on in muted horror as an unfamiliar woman launched herself through a door in the roof and at Damian. He moved to intercede diplomatically without using any powers. It was a fairly familiar movement, she was hardly the first person to think they could get close to Damian with false bravado and cheer, clearly broadcasting how utterly unfamiliar they were with Damian. Damian did not cozy… unless it was with a pet.

But Damian’s compliant expression and prepared stance froze Jon in his movement. Damian wasn’t bracing against an attack; he was bracing for a familiar weight. If Jon didn’t know better, he’d even think there was even a bit of excitement in his eyes, which was just about unheard of.

Moments later, Jon was convinced that’s exactly what it was when more shockingly still, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace that he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her waist! Damian was touching her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Damian had warned him there was magic in Paris, and it must be true because that was the only excuse he could think of to explain the sight in front of him.

The woman pulled back with a bright smile and shining eyes locked on Damian while his arms lingered at her waist for a few moments before snapping back to his side. “It's good to see you again! Welcome to Paris.”

“I’ve been before,” Damian corrected instantly. Jon winced at his blunt statement and opened his mouth to soften the blow, but Damian continued before he could. “But it is good to be back… and with you again,” he finished with what could almost be described as a small smile.

The woman beamed back, completely unaffected by the brusque tone. “Welcome back then.” She kept eye contact for a few moments, her cheeks growing steadily redder, before turning to Jon expectantly.

Damian’s body language instantly stiffened as if just remembering Jon was there as well. “And this is my… associate, Jonathan Kent. Jon, this is Marinette Dupain Cheng.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marinette,” Jon chirped, eagerly offering his hand.

“It’s nice to meet a friend of Damian’s,” she giggled.

Jon cocked his head to the side, his eyes sliding between Damian and Marinette suspiciously. “How did you know I was his friend?”

Damian harumhed and crossed his arms in annoyance but Marinette smirked, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “He said associate without disgust. You must be a really good friend.”

“His best,” Jon confirmed.

“You are most assuredly not,” Damian scoffed.

“Well, it’s nice to meet his best friend,” she nodded in mock solemnity.

“I am talking. And at a volume you definitely can both hear, especially you,” he hissed with a not too gentle shove at Jon’s shoulder as he stepped between him and Marinette.

“We’re aware,” Jon grinned.

Marinette’s smirk eased into a warm, amused smile, her focus back on Damian. “Thank you again for agreeing to help. We could really use the assistance.”

“You have been doing an admirable job so far,” he stated, causing Jon to whip his head toward him at his words. That! That was the strangest, most conclusive evidence of magic he’d seen so far. Compliments were typically hard fought from Damian, most of his team had never received more than a ‘not terrible’, and she had just stepped into a positive observation with ease.

“Thank you,” she blushed. “But I can admit we are surviving not succeeding.” She gook a deep breath and glanced over to Jon with a small smile and nod. “Have you gotten the rundown?”

His expression instantly transformed, all mirth evaporating and getting replaced by a serious set to his lips. “Magic villain. Infects others to do his dirty work based on negative emotions. The team of local, also magic, heroes have containment covered but are having issues tracking him. That’s where I come in. Listen for any suspicious conversations and search for hidden lairs. If I discover either, track them down and see if anyone with a mask is hanging around.”

She nodded along with the excessively pared down analysis. “Any maniacal laughter or monologuing, get on it,” she ordered lightly, but her voice hardened as she continued. “I don’t know how the lair thing is going to work though. This is Paris. There are more deep, dark, hidden crypts and bunkers than even the people living above them know about. Maybe focus on listening for any fluttering instead. There shouldn’t be any butterflies or too many bugs this time of year except for the akuma. I don’t know if they actually make noise you can detect though. Magic and all…”

She looked down, her brow furrowed in consideration for a moment before she seemed to remember they were there. She shot Jon a strained smile. “Sorry. It would be the best Christmas present ever though. I wouldn’t be able to thank you enough.” She turned to Damian with a warmer smile and squeezed one of his hands. “Or you, for arranging all of this for us.”

“We will help end this.” She smiled even wider when he squeezed her hand back. It almost looked like he was going to take a step closer to solidify his declaration, but the motion was stopped by a sudden ringing and an indignant screech from the street below.

They leaned over the railing in time to see a woman trying to run and dodge away from a sprig of mistletoe with ringing bells that got progressively louder the further she ran, and a man who looked utterly lost, getting dragged behind her as if he was being pulled by an invisible rope. If anything, his legs were trying to peddle backward, but it had no effect on his trajectory, instead, they were slipping and sliding on the slick ground.

Down the street, a gigantic figure that appeared to be some combination of Cupid and Santa who had gotten mauled by Swamp Thing leapt with ease onto a distant building’s roof. “I am Mistletoe Mayhem,” he declared. His voice thundered throughout Paris. “I will make it so nobody can be rejected and laughed at. Everybody will be with whoever they want to be with.”

“Well, that’s incredibly problematic,” Marinette muttered. She sighed and massaged her forehead. “It appears you’re going to get your chance sooner than expected. Come on, let’s go into my room and I can transform. I’ll head out and you guys can change after I leave.”

A flash of light and two stunned foreign heroes later, she was on a distant roof assessing Mistletoe Mayhem. “Well, at least it seems pretty straight forward,” Chat commented landing next to her. “It’s like a Christmas present to us. Santa remembered us,” he swooned dramatically.

Ladybug snorted but nodded in agreement then nodded to Rena Rouge and Carapace as they also joined them. “And doesn’t appear to be too violent, though forcing people to kiss someone else against their will like this kind of is assault.”

“Not kind of,” Carapace scoffed.

“Ah, yeah, not cute and quirky at all,” Chat nodded. “I can see that.”

“And Pegasus had a theory on the object,” Rena interjected.

“Pegasus is here too?” Chat asked, head whipping around, but freezing at seeing two figures emerge from the shadows. “Is that Superboy? Superboy is here?” He froze. “Wait… is having a superpowered hero here good or bad?”

“Yes,” Carapace nodded sagely but eyed the two foreign heroes warily.

“Oh my God,” Rena squealed. “I have to…”

“Hopefully good,” Ladybug interrupted before she could get carried away with the interview she knew Rena was dying to do. “Superboy, this is Chat Noir, Carapace, and Rena Rouge. Robin, you’ve met Chat, of course, and this is Carapace and Rena. They’re here to help track down Hawk Moth while we’re fighting the akuma.”

“Awesome, dudette,” Carapace nodded. “Welcome, dudes. Let me know if you need help doing your thing.”

“Thanks,” Superboy smiled. “We’ll let you know.”

“We will complete our task. You need to focus on your task,” Robin commanded. “Splitting your attention can cause harm to your teammates.”

Carapace raised an eyebrow and met Chat’s gaze. “Right,” Chat drawled. He turned his attention fully to Robin. “So…”

“Look out!” Ladybug yelled and dove for Chat. She managed to get to him just in time, knocking him to the ground moments before the beam could hit him, as everyone scattered to safety. They rolled together a few meters and froze, bracing themselves for any indication of the bells that were plaguing so many other Parisians.

When there was no indication of ringing, Ladybug let out a breath and finally opened her eyes to see a hand extended in front of her. She lifted her eyes as she took the proffered hand finally meeting Robin’s gaze… and groaned as bells instantly started ringing above her. “I thought we got away with it,” she grumbled.

“This is why you don’t split your attention,” Robin growled at Chat. “If the akuma was more dangerous she could have been hurt or killed.”

“But he’s not and she wasn’t, and if he had been, I wouldn’t have been,” Chat chuckled. “And at least we know how to make them stop. You just have to…”

“No,” Robin interrupted.

Ladybug quirked her lips to the side in thought. Surely it didn’t have to be on the lips… did it? It’s still a kiss when her Maman would kiss her cheek or her Papa would kiss her forehead. They could… do that, right? Even if she wanted to do more, it wasn’t fair to force him. “We could try…”

“Absolutely not,” he stated definitively. “That is not an acceptable option.”

Marinette blinked at him. She didn’t exactly want to be forced to kiss in front of everyone either, but he spit it out like the very idea of kissing her disgusted him. She’d thought they were building toward something, that there was a fondness, sometimes she even thought it was more like affection, a restrained flirting. But she had clearly misinterpreted his actions. It wasn’t that he kept his emotions close to his chest, opening up to her occasionally. He just wasn’t interested.

“Right,” she nodded curtly and took a step away from him. The bells rang louder, but she would rather deal with the clatter than make Damian uncomfortable. “Well then, we will have to plan to stick close together.” She glowered at the bells loudly ringing. “Maybe that will either blend in with the rest or we can use it to our advantage later, assuming Chat doesn’t get hit.”

“As I was saying before,” Rena popped in with Carapace on her heels, “Pegasus had an idea what the object might be, which is why we came out.”

“Without knowing who it is?” Chat asked.

“Without knowing who it is,” she confirmed. “If you look at his costume, it’s covered in Mistletoe, right?” The group, except for Robin and Carapace nodded like it was a given. “But that’s not mistletoe. The berries on all those are red.”

“Well, yeah, Mistletoe berries are red, aren’t they?” Superboy asked, uncertain for the first time about something he’d been confident in for his entire life. “I see them everywhere.”

“Apparently not. Red just sells better on decorations. The berries are actually white,” Rena grinned. “And if you look carefully, the sprig of mistletoe at the center of his chest is the only one with white berries.”

Ladybug rose up to look over the edge of the roof they were hiding behind, her eyes narrowed as she studied the akuma. Robin joined her, positioning himself so he was brushing against her despite having plenty of room around them, a fact Chat proved by popping up next to them a few moments later with a good distance between him and Robin. “See it?”

“Yes,” Ladybug and Robin answered at the same time.

“Perfect,” Chat cheered. “What’s the plan?”

Ladybug turned away as she planned while Robin kept his eyes toward the akuma. It only took a few seconds before her scrunched expression smoothed out into a bright smile. “Superboy, you start searching. We need you focused entirely on that.” He looked between her and Robin, a smirk growing on his lips. Robin always thought he knew best and wanted to lead, even when he was teamed with older heroes, so to see him accept Ladybug’s lead with no pushback was, yet more proof magic existed, and she was the embodiment of it. He saluted Ladybug and flew off.

“Chat, you’ll use your clowning to our advantage. You can distract like nobody else.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded and spun his staff. “Always happy to be the center of attention.”

Carapace scoffed, but immediately snapped to attention when Ladybug turned her focus to him. “Carapace, can you create a barrier around the device he’s using to shoot out the mistletoe so he can’t get anyone else?”

Carapace looked down at his shell analytically for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “I think I can.”

“You think…” Robin hissed, finally breaking his focus on the horizon to glare at Carapace.

“I do,” Carapace nodded and met Robin’s glare with a smirk. “You’re not the first to ask. Several teachers have asked the same thing. Also, don’t split your attention.” He nodded toward the akuma with a smirk. “Dangerous to do that.”

Robin growled and took a step toward him but Ladybug’s hand brushing against his chest stopped him instantly. “Robin and I will grab the item.” She shot Robin a look to gauge his agreement. She needed him completely in agreement on this. They were going to have to work in sync despite never having worked together before. He didn’t meet her eyes, having returned his gaze to their surroundings, but he gave a curt head bob. “Okay, Chat, Rena, you know what to do. Robin, you ready?”

It took only a few minutes for everyone to be in position and Rena’s flute to whistle, or at least Ladybug assumed it whistled, she couldn’t quite hear much above the bells. With a breath and a nod to Robin, Ladybug made her approach. She jumped toward the akuma. “To the left,” she announced loudly.

Robin reacted a step behind her jumping to the opposite side to balance her, still within the distance they’d been allowed by the akuma’s curse, but midjump he was suddenly yanked to the left and into the akuma’s shoulder. He moved quickly to avoid the akuma’s blind swing. At the same moment, Ladybug was yanked back toward him just enough to put her within the akuma’s reach. His wild movement caught her hard enough to send her flying several streets away. Robin prepared himself for the pull just in time as he arced through the air after her and landed incredibly elegantly considering the circumstances.

He rushed over to Ladybug, who had crashed into a wall significantly less elegantly, leaving a very distinct and deep impression in the bricks. “Are you okay?” he asked, though it came out closer to a scream in order to be heard over the bells. His eyes scanned her body, giving her head special attention.

“Yeah,” Ladybug grumbled. “Magic suit and all.” She took a breath and brushed the rubble off her body. She tried to ignore the shock of electricity that shot through her when Robin joined her, brushing his nimble fingers against her shoulders and hair. “What happened?”

He huffed before answering. His hands clenched as he pulled them from his work helping her. “When I work with a partner, usually, we go in opposite directions so we don’t give our opponent an easy target.”

“But we can’t get too far apart,” she answered back louder and perhaps harsher than she meant to, but it was frustrating not only to be in the situation but to be heard over the bells.

“I didn’t anticipate the curse shrinking the allowed distance. I will anticipate next time,” he groused, barely loud enough to be heard, but the hard set of his expression was impossible to miss.

“I need you to stay with me. We need to move as one,” she yelled.

“That is unrealistic,” he yelled back. “It takes years to be able to anticipate each other’s movements like that.”

Ladybug sighed and looked down, eyes squeezed shut in thought. He wasn’t exactly wrong. The kind of anticipation they would need to move as one, considering the erratically shrinking distance, took experience. She and Chat had learned to move in sync pretty quickly, but they were literally chosen because they were perfect compliments, and regardless it still took them a few battles to move together.

But if she and Robin couldn’t work in tandem, there was no way they could succeed. They would have to switch their task with someone else. The problem was everyone was already where they worked best, except them. So, the team was going to have to take less optimal roles to fill in the gaps. And at this point, the bells were ringing so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts, let alone what anyone was saying to her, so maybe it was best if they sat it out.

“If you… we,” she corrected quickly, “want to avoid the kiss…” she turned away from him pretending not to notice the way his head snapped toward her at her statement, “then we…”

“We should do it,” he barked.

She blinked at him. “The kiss?” she asked uncertainly.

He nodded, his eyes still searing into her like he was searching for something. “We don’t have to if you want to avoid it, but we cannot contribute ideally like this.”

She nodded. He was right. She just wished it wasn’t so thoroughly against his will. “Okay,�� she said quietly, definitely not loudly enough to be heard, but he clearly understood.

He stepped up to her carefully keeping his body from actually touching her. He searched her face for a moment before closing his eyes and slowly dipping down to brush his lips gently against hers. It was barely enough to feel, but it caused a flush that spread throughout her entire body.

It took a beat before she opened her eyes and instantly frowned realizing the bells were still ringing. Robin was already glaring at them when she lifted her eyes to analyze them, like there might be some instructions written on them somewhere. “Maybe we need to…” she started, but Robin was ahead of her.

He wound one hand in her hair and the other around her waist, pulling her against him. She rose up at the same time to crash her lips against his, this time more heated. His hand in her hair tightened and pulled just enough to angle her head differently allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She let out a quiet whimper that seemed to break something in him. He released her hair and instead wrapped it around her lower back to pull her closer as he turned them so he could press her against the brick wall. She wound her arms around his shoulders and arced into him to get as close as possible, seeking some kind of relief from the tingling rush throughout her body, or maybe seeking more.

After an entirely too short amount of time, Robin pulled away just enough to breathe, eyes still closed and breath still coming out in heavy pants. It took Ladybug a few seconds before she found the resolve to lift her eyes to his face and a few more for him to open his eyes. “We should…” she started, voice nothing more than a whisper.

He hummed in agreement but didn’t move, not to release her or look away, until a peel of maniacal laughter sounded throughout the city. A heavy, regretful sigh passed his lips and finally let his hands drop.

“I can stand guard while you get the mistletoe,” he said breathlessly. “Backup for you.”

Ladybug nodded mindlessly for a few seconds before her brain caught up with what he had said. “Yeah. That’s…” She cleared her throat and took a small step back, allowing the distance to help clear her head. “That sounds good. I’ll um…” she pulled out her yoyo and lifted it up for him to see, “I’ll let the team know.”

With their new freedom, the team was able to take down the akuma in a matter of seconds and after talking to the victim, returned to the roof to recoup, minus a still missing Superboy. “Great job, guys. Sorry for our mess up.” Ladybug smiled sheepishly at them.

“Nah, dudette,” Carapace shrugged. “That was a crazy challenge you had. Fun for us to watch, though.”

“I want the full story later,” Rena whispered into Ladybug’s ear with a devilish grin. Ladybug flushed as red as her suit but nodded before shoving her away. Rena winked at Robin then grabbed Carapace’s hand and bounced away.

“Right, well I need to finish getting ready for the party tonight. Going to go take down the mistletoe though. It doesn’t sound so appealing anymore,” Chat grumbled. “You’re welcome to come too,” he offered to Robin. “And Superboy too, if he wants.” He saluted to them and jumped in the opposite direction leaving Ladybug alone with Robin.

Ladybug watched him leave for a few seconds before allowing her eyes to dart toward Robin. “Why don’t we go back to my place, and we can change?”

He nodded and followed after her, silent for the entire trip, even dropping through the door in her ceiling without a word. She transformed back to Marinette, which seemed to take some of her bravado with it. She rocked on her heels waiting for him to break the silence. When he didn’t after a few seconds, she couldn’t take the silence any longer, which she acknowledged was pretty ironic considering how desperately she’d been hoping for silence just an hour earlier. “So… the kiss,” she prompted.

He huffed but didn’t respond verbally other than that, preferring to scowl at the ground and cross his arms over his chest like a shield. Ladybug let out a sad sigh. Her heart fractured at his sound. It was definitively the best kiss she’d ever had, but clearly, it hadn’t had the same effect on him. “I’m sorry,” she offered sincerely. “I know…”

“No, you don’t,” Robin stopped her. He took a breath and removed his mask so he could meet her eyes with nothing between them. “I didn’t want the… first,” the word came out a combination of tortured and hopeful. His eyes darted away but she recognized the tension in his frame. It was the same tension she often held, though he wore it a bit more elegantly than she did. It was an anxious tension rather than a disgusted tension. “…time we kissed to not be our choice.”

“First?” she uttered, eyes blown wide in shock.

“You said it was assault,” he continued. “I don’t want to make you feel like that. I didn’t want you to kiss me because you had to. I wanted it to be because you wanted to, but…”

“I did,” she burst out. His eyes whipped to hers, hope swimming in them. “I just wasn’t sure if you… wanted… to,” she finished anxiously.

His lips curled up into a soft smile. He crossed the room in two quick strides, hands already reaching to cup her face before he even took his first step. “And you still do?” he asked, voice searching.

She smiled brightly back up at him. “I do. Very much so. For a while now.”

He grinned back and kissed her again, just because they wanted to. His lips met hers, gentle but firm, confident in the presence of more in the future.

Marinette slid her hands up his arms and squeezed his. She broke the kiss unintentionally with her brimming smile. “Do you want to go with me to Chat’s party tonight?”

His eyes hardened just a little, just enough to signal a shift in mood. “Are you okay with me knowing his identity? And from the sounds of it, the rest of your team hang out together so they will likely be there as well.”

Marinette shrugged. “They seem okay with it, and I’ve already trusted you with mine. And I want you to meet my friends. But if you don’t…”

“I do,” he assured her. “I just want to make sure you are sure.” He settled a tender kiss on her lips to confirm his statement. He pulled away with a playful look. “Do you think we can convince Chat to leave some mistletoe out? Just for us? All night?”

She hummed in approval and nestled into his arms. “Probably. And if not, we can buy some for ourselves.”

#maribat #damianette #Christmas #fluff

46 notes · View notes