#discussion of all the mental health fun

[ghostmartyr]

“We’ve done everything we can. Now it’s up to Ruby. Whatever happens next, we have to welcome that.” “But what if she isn’t Ruby anymore when she comes back out?” “Maybe... that’s not for us to decide.”

I am trying to think how to put this.

Drawing a direct parallel between Ruby and the Afterans muddles things. The Paper Pleasers are not human. They exist for their purpose, and when that purpose expires, they readily accept that and are eager to move on to the next thing. They want to exist. They want to live. They want to continue.

Ruby drinking the tea is an act of violence against herself. Her loved ones letting go and respecting her choices -- traditionally, that’s a good thing. Jaune’s refusal to do that for the Paper Pleasers is very explicitly a bad thing.

...Except Ruby drinking the tea is an act of violence against herself.

In this particular scenario, motive is immaterial. The tea lands Ruby in the Tree, and as it does with everyone, it gives her a chance to really contemplate what she wants; it’s a safety net that catches her when she takes that leap. I’m not going to rail against her receiving that grace. She deserves a break.

However, right now, I think there’s a vital component of the conversation missing. There is a world of difference between change in the name of bettering yourself and change in the name of destroying yourself. I think the show understands that, but I think there’s also a disconnect between the narrative taking its time and being gentle with Ruby, and her loved ones’ understanding of what’s going on.

Which is not automatically a bad thing.

It’s not.

Really.

The characters can have different experiences and expectations than the audience. That’s fine and perfectly normal.

But uh.

“They came back from the Tree better.”

Hm.

Great?

Good for them?

Like, really fantastic. For them.

I’m having trouble phrasing this.

I guess I’ll be blunt:

I know it’s not a 1:1 thing, but it is awkward as heck to go from a character basically attempting suicide after an episode of being beaten down to that lowest point -- to all their loved ones standing around going, “They have the right to choose a path for themselves.”

Ruby does have that right, and agency as a person that should be respected. If she wants to change -- chooses change -- then who really has the right to disagree with that? Learning to contend with yourself should first and foremost be about yourself, not the other people in your life. Those people are important, yes, but when you’re thinking about you, at some point, it’s got to be about you. It is good to have people in your life see that and respect that.

Only Ruby is seventeen and thinks the world is better off without her, and that she’s failed everything she’s supposed to be, and she’s not enough.

It is jarring to have her loved ones look at a decision she makes in that state of mind and call it something they should accept. Whatever the show intends to do, the last episode is very specific in breaking Ruby down. This is not a choice she makes fully informed and of her own free will with no string attached -- this is a choice she makes because she can’t take it anymore and is looking for any way out.

And again, motive aside, it lands her in a place where she can actually make a more informed decision about her life and where she wants to go. She’s given that option, and it’s a kindness.

Her team is respecting that, but without any true comprehension of what’s going on with her. Which -- again, characters don’t have to be perfect paragons who get everything right and understand the intricacies of a situation they haven’t really been read in on.

But when the audience spends sixteen minutes watching a character being essentially coerced into making a choice, watching their loved ones go all in on respecting that choice is just really, really awkward. Ruby is literally beaten into it by someone who hates her.

I’ll keep saying that WBY+J don’t have to know that, and aren’t responsible for knowing that -- but the audience does know that. It’s fantastic that Ruby’s friends are willing to support her, but at the end of the day, we’re back in the same place.

“We’ve done everything we can. Now it’s up to Ruby.”

That’s the problem.

That is the entire problem.

Ascension and the right to choose it -- that’s not really my interest.

What concerns me is that once again, this is Ruby solving her problems in isolation. This is Ruby coming face to face with her demons alone, while all her loved ones stand back and say whatever she chooses, they’ll have her back.

Which is the same old story.

They trust Ruby.

They love Ruby.

Just leave it to Ruby.

This is her fight, she’s got this.

.

Mental health is hard. I’m just going to say that as a blanket statement, because it is. It’s hard for the person struggling, it’s hard for the people around them to know what they should be doing to help -- there are guidelines that you can sort of follow, but each person is unique, and what helps one person can easily hurt another. It is not easy, and the best thing you can really do is commit to trying.

Even then, no matter how solid your support network is... oftentimes, the major issues are you versus you. Your friends and family can love you all they want, and do it well, but you’re the linchpin. Nothing is going to move forward without you. You’re the responsible one. You hold the power.

It’s a heavy thing to hold. Depression and adjacent problems regularly ask you to do more than you feel like you can as part of treatment. It feels incredibly unfair, and it’s very easy to look at every failure as something deeply wrong with you. Because it’s on you, right? You’re the one who can fix this, so if it’s not getting fixed, that must mean you’re doing something wrong. You’re the problem. You’re always the problem. How the hell do you stop being the problem.

Sometimes you’re just done, and you can’t do anything more.

This is a personal preference, which I guess the show has no obligation to care about, but... You know, we get all of these stories about the power of friendship. We have a gazillion of them. But a lot of the time, it comes back to someone being a Hero. For all the emphasis on friendship, a lot of stories fall into the trap of building up a legend in isolation.

If you want to get meta, in-universe, that’s how Ruby approaches Summer. Summer isn’t just part of her team, or one of many Huntsmen, she’s The Hero. She’s SuperMom, she’s the best, she’s the greatest.

That’s what it means to be a hero, and if you’re not doing that, you’re not worth anything. That’s the trap Ruby’s fallen in.

Which is why, for my personal tastes, I really wish she weren’t going on this journey alone. She has four people who love her right outside, and they’re not participants in the journey. They’re putting their faith in her and trusting whatever choice she makes.

That leaves Ruby alone.

It’s great that the Blacksmith is giving her room to make a choice. It’s great that she’s given a moment to breathe where she can think about making choices.

But the problems that get Ruby to the Tree stem, in a large part, from feeling like everything that weighs her down is entirely dependent on her. She’s the Leader. She has to be better than this. She doesn’t lean on people or share her problems, because she has to be the positive one. She has to be the inspiration to keep them all going.

How Ruby relates to her support network is part of why she’s here.

They’re there for her, they love her, they’ll love her no matter what --

But if Ruby can’t accept that love, she can’t draw any strength from it, and she’s just as alone as she’s been feeling. Of course you’re stuck on your own if you don’t know how to reach out to anyone.

Ruby has a host of baggage, and it’s important for her to learn how to navigate that in a healthier way, in a way that she’s allowed to pick.

But a truly significant part of that baggage comes from not allowing anyone else to help her carry it. Putting her by herself, leaving her to figure out how to move forward in isolation --

One of the lessons Ruby needs to internalize is that it doesn’t always have to be on her. She’s halfway there. She knows enough that she’s starting to balk at the concept of it being all on her, as seen in her rant. She resents the weight, and wishes it weren’t there. The second part of that is realizing it doesn’t have to be. Realizing that she can share the burden, and that the fate of the world is not all about her and her choices. She has a team.

Leaving her to figure that out alone weakens the entire vibe. “You have people to lean on if it gets too hard -- but while it’s harder than it’s ever been, your only source of companionship is a kindhearted being who you might never see again. It still falls completely on you.” Even if the ultimate takeaway is that Ruby does have a support network, and she can treat them as one, the narrative has them shoved all slightly to the left because this is Ruby’s Problem to work out.

That can’t last forever. That’s why we’re here.

It’s -- not a simple road, to be fair. As I said above, sometimes in mental health, it really is just about you. There are things that you’re stuck learning and growing through alone. But everyone deserves a hand to hold while that’s happening, and it’s really disappointing to me that Ruby isn’t given one (the Blacksmith is kind, and gentle, but also a complete stranger). Instead of pushing her friends into the journey with her, the story seems more focused on letting Ruby make her own choices by herself.

And heck, just saying that, it’s like “well yes, people should be allowed to do that??? respect their agency regarding their own life??”

But no one should have to be alone while they grapple with their demons, and it just hits me wrong that the story has written WBY+J’s version of being there for Ruby as a distant promise -- of waiting for her to sort things out -- more than being in the trenches with her.

Luckily, Jaune just added to Weiss’ long history of fire crimes, so --

I don’t know. I am hoping that Jaune can pass on some of the compassion that he received this episode to Ruby, because that would help settle my dissatisfaction a lot, but for right now, I don’t love the approach.

[feldsparred-mo-reblogs]

No nuance november: If your main headcanon for Gabbro is that they are "a stoner" because "they are so chill" I actually don't want to hear anything else you are saying because I am already bored

[aro-culture-is]

quick note - this blog is gonna be sparse again for at least this week. trying new medications and tbh initial side effects are not super pleasant + actual effects build up. as a result: currently as if unmedicated for mental health, with anxiety+ side effect, extra fatigue, dizziness, and fatigue. it's uh, sure something.

totally recognize that most of y'all know we're absent at times due to health things, just wanted to give a heads up that this one is at least anticipated.

[kimtaegis]

👋 2022

[akkivee]

today is catching up with stage day and i binged on mtr’s and bat’s rep lives back to back and i’m still driven to peak insanity by stage jakurai, stage hifumi’s antics were kinda crazy esp with doppo lol speaking of, i might also be not normal about stage doppo, stage hitoya got to be a menace, stage jyushi only gets cuter and cuter and hooooooooooly shiiiiiiiiiit the power of just letting stage kuukou rock out for an hour plus i am dead!!!!!!! deceased!!!!! perished!!!!!! evaporated!!!!!!!! eviserated!!!!!! destroyed!!!!! decimated—

[hopalongfairywren]

I think it started on reddit but there's a growing group of obnoxious people who would rather jump to suck the education system's dick just to have an ability to sneer at people they feel are dumber than them

[trans-leek-cookie]

anyways shaming ppl about gachas or making fun of em doesn't work bc. You know ppl being scammed will sometimes defend the scams they fell for bc they don't want to be ashamed right. You guys know that right. It doesn't make the scam any less dangerous to add external shame right. Please tell me you recognize this. That shaming ppl who are into gachas tends to just make them justify harder right. If your gonna critique addictive behaviors you at least understand how they work, right.

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

IMPORTANT POST PLEASE READ

Im gonna be honest and open for a sec, and please do not take this as "oh I HATE my community or I dont like the people who watch me" but honestly as of late (and I did highlight this during the mcc bit), ive felt like I havent been able to really be in my own community simply because of the constant way that "discourse" is handled. Making vague posts and not really tackling issues in a good way, all that is going to do is just show people a big "THIS COMMUNITY BAD" sign and not actually help anything within the community, all its going to do is have the good and potentially good people leave or not join in the first place. The way that discourse is treated that ive seen has been the main reason why I have started to try to distance myself, which has been the most heartbreaking thing I have had to do. I want problems to be solved in a mature, civil way, with either a dm or a reply, not an entire vague thing that only says "bad things are happening" and doesnt elaborate on anything or barely elaboratesa and only gives people on both the inside and outside a bad sign of what the community is. Making posts whenever something happens being like "here we go again" is only going to highlight the wrong things, and actually DOESNT help the issue at all! The problems should be discussed directly with the people who are doing said problems FIRST! Bring attention to behaviors and things that arent good DIRECTLY! And also, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO!!! It is not your duty as a viewer or fan of me to be involved in any of this if you do not want to! Just enjoy the content and make silly posts! As someone who constantly tried to fix and get into every problem as it was happening, it took a huge toll on my mental health, and I want you guys to just be able to enjoy the content without having to worry about what you say about it! Be constructive! Dont make posts again just being like "wow this community is so bad" because that doesnt solve literally anything! If you have enough passion to make the posts saying "wow this community is bad" then only post about that, you are only spreading that negative message, and not uplifting anything of actual value! And if the person you are trying to help is not willing or not listening, BLOCK! MUTE! DONT BRING MORE ATTENTION TO THE PERSON IF THEY ARE NOT BEING A GOOD PART OF THE COMMUNITY!!!! I know I say that if I see problems I will call them out, but I shouldnt have to babysit every single time a thing happens within the community as that just isnt a healthy way for a creator or a community to be handled. This does not mean that I do not care about the issues or dont want them fixed, rather it shouldnt take me having to make some grand statement every single time something happens it should take only your own self reflection and self awareness. And to add onto this, make sure that every once in a while no matter who you are you think and have that self reflection, you should be open to being willing to learn and grow as a person! And again, I do NOT want anyone taking this as "Wow this community is terrible" but rather that we just have things that need to be fixed and changed and THAT IS OKAY! I do not hate the community, I care so much about it that I want it to be a silly place for my content again! I want it to be the reason why people get into what I do because of it again! And I want to be able to just have fun and relax without having to worry about how every single thing that I may say could have someone stirring things up that simply dont help or solve anything! Take care of yourselves. And this isnt coming from a place of "I hate the community as a whole" but rather again I want to be able to exist and make content that we can all enjoy without having to worry about walking on eggshells around me or around eachother! At the end of the day im just a fella that wants to make silly videos for you all, and you are people who enjoy said videos. Nothing more. Nothing less.

[the-fire-within0]

Dionysus represents much more than the God of Madness and Frenzy; he embodies the essence of mental health. Dedicating time and effort to healing your mind can be seen as an act of devotion to Dionysus. This is why advocating for, discussing, and learning about mental illness and your experiences can be so beneficial.

He is more than just the God of Wine; he also embodies sobriety and restraint. He teaches us moderation, guiding us not to overindulge in what our bodies cannot handle. Choosing to abstain from alcohol or maintaining sobriety can be a profound act of devotion as well.

Excessive consumption, whether it's alcohol, negative thoughts, or anything else, can be harmful. Dionysus serves as a reminder that healing from such excesses is possible.

While he embodies the spirit of fun, enjoyment, and hedonism, I don't believe he would want you to indulge for the wrong reasons. Whenever I felt too serious or caught in a downward spiral, he would remind me that it's okay to let loose, but also to stay attuned to my feelings. I don't think he would shun you if you're not having too much fun. If you're not feeling okay, then you're not feeling okay. There's nothing wrong with that.

If anything, Dionysus seems like the ultimate god of self-care. Taking your medication, staying hydrated or drinking other beverages (I personally find that hot chocolate boosts my mood), spending time with friends, or even enjoying a solitary walk in nature—all these activities can feel like acts of devotion. He is love and full of love. A god of duality and balance.

He can embody the warmth of summer and the freshness of spring, just as he can evoke the chill of winter. He's complex and multifaceted. He is a god of rebirth, death and immortality. He to me, resembles a phoenix. He means so much to me and my practice. My heart has so much room for him. He has shown me that regardless what I've experience, it is possible to change and heal. His own love feels poetic.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 1: Linked Here | Part 2: Linked Here | Part 3: Linked Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

“Sir, UA has such a strict and well-planned curriculum. What could possibly have been “neglected” by the faculty and staff?”

Aizawa smirks at Ida as if the young Engine hero has made a particularly funny joke. He looks out at the class and takes a deep breath before his next statement:

“This afternoon Recovery Girl and Midnight will be joining us as we discuss a crucial topic. We are going to walk you through an Intro to our Sex Ed curriculum.”

The class is silent. Then, a hiss rises from the back right of the classroom.

“Yesssss. Yesss! Finally! You’re finally granting permission for us to appreciate all of the gorgeous ladies in our class! It’s my time to shine - ”  Mineta’s unhinged chattering is silenced when Mr. Aizawa easily wraps him in his capture gear.

“Does anyone else have an inappropriate comment to share?” The teacher asks lazily. The class says nothing. Mineta whimpers pathetically beneath the layers of binding cloth and Erase rHead ignores him.

There’s a bright knock at the classroom entrance. Before anyone can answer, the large door flies open to reveal UA staff members Midnight and Recovery Girl. As usual, Midnight is sparkling with energy, smiling devilishly at the class as she glides into the room. Recovery Girl has less flare as she steps into the classroom – her movements are quiet and stiff. The wrinkles on her face tell stories of a lifetime of hero work.

“Hello, Class.” The school nurse says as she stands before them all. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get to this conversation at the beginning of the year. There’s just been so much chaos and injury lately surrounding UA, we weren’t able to prioritize the Sex Ed curriculum the way we normally do.” She beams at them, looking pleased to be out of the infirmary for once.

Midnight sweeps her arms out dramatically. “Your changing hormones are no doubt running rampant! We’re here to tame you little demons. Let me dominate this conversation and teach you the true meaning of pleasure.”

Mineta groans audibly from within his binding cocoon, and a look of disgust flashes across Mr. Aizawa’s face.

“Settle down, Midnight.” He turns to address the class at large. “As part of the curriculum we will have monthly Sex Ed & Health seminars run by Midnight, Recover Girl and me. During these sessions we will discuss the basics surrounding reproduction, consent, and safety. We will also split into small groups where you can feel more comfortable to ask potentially embarrassing questions.”

“To kick things off for today, we’re not going to give you the classic “your bodies are changing” lecture you get in middle school. Instead, we’re going to set some ground rules for living in a shared dorm space with classmates your age.” Mr. Aizawa shifts on his feet and looks over at Recover Girl, prompting her to take over.

The elderly hero shuffles up to the front of the class and grins up at them through thick coke bottle glasses. “Here’s the deal, kids. We realize that you all live on the campus and that your scholarly lives overlap with your home lives in a new and unique way. This is a unique situation, and we ask that you do your best to prioritize your studies and your health at all times. If you find yourselves struggling with your mental or physical health, we ask that you speak to one of us and we can create a plan together to help you get on track.”

“Additionally, we’re expecting you to be respectful of each other’s personal space. You all share a dorm, so between class and dorm life you will be together 24/7. This can be fun since you’re fairly friendly with each other, but eventually there will likely be conflict and disputes. Please come to us for help mediating any tough living situations, we are more than happy to step in and help you sort through challenging relationships.”

“And speaking of challenging relationships…” Midnight cuts in, tossing her thick purple hair over her shoulder as she squares up to the class. “Let’s talk about dating.”

At this point, most of the class’s faces are bright red. The room’s vibe has shifted from curious to uncomfortable and awkward.

“Most of you are 16 now, and understandably you may start to take notice of your classmates in new ways. You may want to explore relationships beyond friendship.” Midnight winks at your class meaningfully. “You are all independent young adults and we can’t control how you feel about one another. But unfortunately, we will be enforcing a strict no dating policy this year.”

“What!?” Mina and Toru cry out in unison. Midnight’s mouth quirks into a sad smile and she looks over at the girls. “Sorry, ladies. We have never had a dorm program before, so there is still much to figure out. Obviously we aren’t going to monitor you all 24/7. But we are going to trust that you are all being appropriate in the dorms and respectful of each other. And that means no dating and no physical relationships between students.” You feel your ears burning at those words, you wish you could look over to see Shoto’s reaction. Thankfully, you’re sure that he’s got his typical stoic look plastered on his face.

“Rest assured, there will be plenty of time in your life for dating and exploring your sexuality with consenting partners. But for now – you are all students first. Focus on making this year at UA count. Learn all you can and grow into strong, supple young heroes.”

Recovery Girl chimes in, a sweet smile on her face. “Despite our zero tolerance policy surrounding dating and physical relationships between students, we will be educating you on the finer points of consent, protection and building healthy relationships in our monthly seminars.”

Mr. Aizawa releases his hold on Mineta and drags himself back to the front of the classroom alongside his fellow educators. “Please remember – you are all minors. We want to reinforce that relationships with adults are strictly forbidden. If any adult approaches you inappropriately at an internship, at an agency or in public we implore you to report it to us so we can deal with it and keep you safe. Many people around Japan know who you are due to the televised broadcast of the sport’s festival. I’m not saying this to scare you – but I want you to be aware that your faces are fairly well known and not every fan that approaches you has good intentions.” He rearranges his binding scarf around his shoulders before looking back out at his class.

“Are there any questions?” Mr. Aizawa scans the room with interest. You turn your head to see if anyone is raising their hand. To your surprise, Shoto’s arm is in the air.

“Yes, Todoroki.” Midnight calls on him, pointing at him with her wildly inappropriate tiny leather whip. “What’s your question?”

“I don’t understand.” Shoto says in his typical flat tone. “You’re going to teach us about sex but you don’t want us to have it?”

And just like that, the tension in the room breaks. The entire class is laughing out loud.

“I’m serious.” Shoto says blankly, not understanding the giggles surrounding him. “Shouldn’t we be executing practical examples of the knowledge we’re learning? Isn’t that how our training works?” Shoto’s brow is creased a bit in obvious frustration, but this just makes everyone laugh even harder. Even Bakugo is joining in at this point.

“Why Icy Hot – you tryin’ to get laid!?” Katsuki cackles out, adding to the chaos.

“Quiet.” Mr. Aizawa’s quirk activates, his hair rising up into the air intimidatingly. The laughter fades quickly. The teacher decides to take mercy on Shoto. “We’re going to give you knowledge and background on these subjects so that if you do eventually want to have a physical relationship after graduation, you’ll be able to do it safely.”

“Think of it this way.” Midnight says, putting a finger to her chin as she talks it through. “We’ll be teaching you Sex Ed theory. Later on in life you can use what you’ve learned and practically apply that theory.”

Shoto still seems a little miffed, but finds this answer acceptable.

“Any other questions?” Recovery Girl prompts.

Mina raises her bright pink hand. “Are the other years allowed to date? Or is it just our year?”

“That’s a good question.” Recovery Girl says encouragingly. “As of right now, dating and relationships are off limits for all course levels. However, we have made a few exceptions for members of the senior class who have recently turned 18 and are in good standing with their grades and internships.”

“Isn’t the age of consent in Japan 16?” Kaminari raises his hand but doesn’t wait to be called on. “Most of us here are 16 – why can’t we date?”

“This is what we have decided on as a faculty. You will abide by these rules.” Mr. Aizawa says firmly, causing Kaminari to shrink back into his chair. “Any other questions?”

No one else raises their hand. “Thanks for the time everyone. You all know where to find me!” Recovery Girl waves kindly at everyone as she makes her exit.

Midnight cocks her hip and waves her leather whip around one final time, signaling an end to their awkward discussion. “Thanks for listening, class! I’m excited to take this journey of physical maturation with you all.” And with that, she leaves as well.

Mr. Aizawa looks out at them all, clearly exhausted. He lifts his arm and reveals a small clicker in his hand. He hits the combination of buttons that open up their hero costume closet. “Alright, everyone – get changed and meet at the gym for combat training. It’s going to be a long afternoon.”

-----------------------------------------

Combat training is exhausting as per usual. It’s so intense that you don’t have the headspace to really mull over all that Aizawa, Midnight and Recover Girl have told you. One big question does eat away at your nerves, though – given the class wide dating ban, will Shoto want things between the two of you to end?

During the training class, Shoto doesn’t even glance your way. You ignore him in kind, focusing all your energy on your sparring matches with Tsu and Ochaco. The whole afternoon is intense, your body quickly becoming sore from all the movement. When the bell rings to signal the end of classes, you’re immensely grateful. You troop to the locker room with the other girls and indulge in a long, hot shower.

You have a quick dinner in Class A’s dorm with the rest of your class, scarfing down some leftovers as you complete some homework at one of the many kitchen tables. Shoto sits down next to you with his own meal and textbooks.

He makes a show of setting up his homework – opening his textbooks slowly and laying out all of his pens on the table between the two of you. As he sets out a pencil, he purposefully flicks it so that it rolls into your bowl of soup. You look up at him in surprise and he flashes you a gentle smile, moving his hand to grab the rogue writing implement. He touches his pinkie to yours for a few seconds as he scoops up the pencil. The light touch sends electricity up your arm and you quickly pull it away.

You know that Shoto did it purposefully by the way he smirks at your reaction. You work quietly next to each other for the next hour, studying in parallel. It feels strangely intimate and strange – it’s almost like in studying next to each other, you’re flaunting your secret for all to see. Part of you keeps waiting for Shoto to turn to you and ask to review the day’s earlier Sex Ed discussion, but he keeps his head down in his work.

After an hour or so he packs up his books and gets ready to leave. Before he does so, he glances around to ensure that everyone else is occupied before he reaches towards you and draws a small star in the corner of your notebook page. A moment later, he’s gone – marching back to his dorm room with his stack of books and writing instruments.

You stare down at the tiny star, a smile pulling at your lips. You’re not sure exactly what Shoto intended the star to mean. But you’re sure as hell that if Shoto was breaking off your little hookup arrangement, he wouldn’t take the time to scribble a sweet doodle in the margins of your notebook. Maybe you should just text him and ask what he wants to do – what he thinks? You shake your head to clear it before diving back into your English homework.

-----------------------------------------

A few hours later, you end your evening in Mina’s room.

You and Mina are huddled on the floor around Toru, who is drawing out a battle plan on a small white board.

“Alright.” Toru says, concentrating. “Here’s a list of all the supplies we would need to throw a totally-rad-top-secret-awesome party. And here are all of the variables we will need to figure out in order to pull it off in secret – distracting Mr. Vlad King is going to be our biggest challenge. Ugh, and then there’s Monoma. We’re gonna need to keep him from blowing up our spot again this time.”

Mina grabs the dry erase marker from Toru’s hand and quickly crosses Monoma off of the list. “He won’t be a problem this time around.”

You give Mina a questioning look. She waves you off. “We’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s focus on party supplies first. We will need to pick up soft drinks, chips and snacks. We can ask someone to grab paper goods like cups, plates, napkins, etcetera…ooo we should ask Sato to make some sweets!”

“Do you really think the whole class is going to be up for this? They’re all still way pissed about the curfew rule.” You ask skeptically.

“I’ve started asking around on the down low.” Toru chimes in, drawing some hearts stars in the corners of the white board. “So far everyone is pretty interested. I think the class needs a break to blow off some steam. Our course load has been so crazy lately, it’s been a while since we were last able to have some fun as a group.”

“Who did you ask?” You’re curious.

“Despite some initial hesitance, Ochaco and Tsu are in. They convinced YaMomo to come as well. I think she even said she’d bring some tea or something. Midoriya is all in, too – he’s going to work on getting the class rep to be cool with everything. Shoto and Tokoyami said they’d show up if it happened, but they weren’t too keen on helping with the planning process. Sero and Kirishima said they can help us with any heavy lifting. That’s it so far – I’m going to keep spreading the word tomorrow.” She notes all of the people who have expressed interest down on her white board.

“What about Minetta?” Mina asks, making a clear yuck face. “Like, I know he’s a member of our class. But lately he’s been extra gross.”

“Ugh…yeah we kinda have to invite him, don’t we?” You say, thinking back to a time earlier in the month when Minetta tried to smack your ass in the cafeteria. “He’s the worst.”

You’re distracted when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. It’s Shoto. You turn to read your phone so that the others can’t easily see the screen.

Shoto: Hey Y/N. I have been thinking a lot about the Sex Ed class today. I’m concerned that by continuing together we’re breaking the rules.

Y/N: Yeah, I was thinking the same.

Shoto: To be honest, I don’t really care about the rules. I think we should do it anyway.

You smile and warmth bubbles up your chest.

Y/N: I’m in if you’re in.

Shoto: I'm in 💯.

You set the phone down, trying to ensure you’re not smiling an unnatural amount.

It buzzes a second time. You flip it over, expecting another text from Shoto. Instead, you’re surprised to find a message from Honenuki.

Honenuki: Hey Y/N! Check out this song, it’s been a favorite of mine lately.

 You click on the link and it immediately takes you to a YouTube video for an old 1960s song. “Some Kind of Wonderful” by the Drifters. You hastily click pause before the song can buffer and start playing.

Y/N: Can’t wait to check it out!! Here’s one I’ve been listening to.

You shoot back a Spotify link to the latest Sabrina Carpenter song and put your phone back on the ground.

Honenuki: Sweet, I’ll take a listen!

��Oooo who’s texting you, Y/N!?” Toru puts down the white board so you can all get a clear view of it. She reaches for your phone but you snatch it away before she can grab it.

“No one crazy. Just Honenuki from earlier.”

You now have Toru and Mina’s full attention. “Whaaaaat!?” They both cry out, scrambling over each other to get closer to you.

“What did he say!?”

“Did he ask you out?”

“Is he confessing?”

“OMG does he want you to sneak out of our dorm and over to Class B’s so he can make sweet love to you!?”

This last comment from Mina brings you all to silence. And then you break into a fit of giggles.

“No, guys, its not like that! He’s just nice!”

“Ok, ok. We believe you.” Toru waves Mina’s comment off with invisible hands. “And its not like any of us can pursue a fated romance anyway. Not with the new “rules” that have been announced by Mr. Aizawa, Recovery Girl and Miss Midnight earlier today.

Mina rolls her eyes. “Yeah what the hell was that about? It really feels like these extra Sex Ed classes came out of nowhere.”

“Hmmm.” Toru caps her dry erase marker and presses it to her unseen lips. “I wonder if something happened to trigger this response from the teachers. Do you think people in one of the first year classes are actually dating?”

Your stomach drops.

Mina gasps. “Oh my GOD! Do you think someone we know has been having sex!?” She shrieks out, and you and Toru shush her.

“Absolutely not!” Toru flails her arms around for good measure.

“There’s no way.” You say with a shaky laugh. You try to keep your face from flushing. A thought hits you. “And even if people were…doing sexual stuff…how would the teachers know?”

“Maybe someone got caught!” Mina declares, her antennae twitching thoughtfully. “Think about it…maybe a couple was sneaking around in the dorms and one of the teachers caught them banging on campus during a faculty patrol.”

“That would be so scandalous!” Toru yelps.

Your mind is whirring at 100 miles per hour. Did your teachers find out about your little rendezvous with Shoto Todoroki!? The timing seems so suspicious. You try to think back to the past 24 hours – had you left any clues? Had you been too loud? Your mind is in free-fall as you recall the way that Mr. Aizawa had knocked on Shoto’s dorm room door while the two of you were wrapped up in a compromising embrace.

You take a few calming breaths and try to snap yourself out of it. Really…even through Mr. Aizawa had knocked on Shoto’s locked door, how could he have possibly known what you and Shoto were up to on the other side of it? These new school policies had to be totally unrelated and a coincidence. Besides – it wasn’t a crime to be in another classmate’s room. Even if Mr. Aizawa had heard your voice from within Shoto’s dorm, there wasn’t any evidence that you and the youngest Todoroki were up to anything nefarious.

“Ok we are definitely going to investigate this whole situation further.” Mina grabs a hot pink post-it note and sharpie off her desk and returns to the floor. She peels off the top note and writes on it with big block letters: “Who’s Hooking Up At UA?” she sticks the post-it to the wall beside her desk alongside a few other notes listing out projects like “Master Ultimate Move” and “Ace Next Math Test.”

“This has become a mission of utmost importance. The UA tea must be spilled.” She says wisely.

You feign interest and nod in agreement as Toru lets out an affirmative “mhmm!”

At this exact moment, you wonder if you should tell your friends everything about you and Shoto and your steamy hookups. If you tell them now, you’re sure that they will help you figure out if Mr. Aizawa and the staff know that you’ve been intimately engaging with Todoroki. Mina and Toru are absolute masters of gossip and know exactly which strings to pull to get intel. They’re going to make amazing heroes one day, especially Toru with her insane stealth skills.

But no. It feels safer to keep it to yourself. Everything that’s happened – specifically Mr. Aizawa and Endeavor knocking on the door while you’re half naked and moaning in Shoto’s arms – is so totally embarrassing. You can’t bare the thought of explaining the whole situation to your two friends. Would they laugh? What if someone were to overhear? You think to all of the heroes in training with hearing and stealth-based quirks running around the school. Privacy was so hard to come by, it was so easy for it to be compromised. Now the boundaries that Mr. Aizawa had spoken about earlier this morning are stating to make sense to you. You’re all living in such close quarters and respecting each other’s privacy and personal space really should be paramount.

The real question on your mind is this – if you and Shoto continue to smooch in secret, how will you avoid getting caught? The entire student body is likely on high alert, looking for any potential transgressions surrounding the no dating rule.

“I wonder how the other classes are feeling about all these new rules?” You muse.

“We’ll know soon enough.” Mina says, checking her phone. “Actually, we’ll know in 2 minutes.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, nervous at her tone. Toru uncaps her dry erase marker and scribbles down a few more notes on the white board.

There’s an unexpected knock on the door that causes you and Toru to jump.

“The key to all of our plans has arrived.” Mina hops to her feet and scampers across the small dorm room. “Ladies, I present to you our secret weapon.”

She opens the door and reveals the last person you’d expect to be in the Class A dorm – Nieto Monoma.

Monoma stands in the doorway, tall and annoyingly handsome. He’s smiling genuinely and you’re surprised to see him looking so…normal. Typically when he’s within speaking distance of any Class A students he’s a loose cannon.

He smiles down at you and Toru, eyes flickering over to the white board. Toru reflexively moves to cover the plans with her arms, but being invisible it doesn’t do much to deter Monoma’s gaze.

“Hello ladies.” He says in that slippery tone of his. You’ve never seen Nieto in casual wear before. Tonight he’s wearing soft black sweatpants along with a grey band logo crewneck. When he’s acting like a normal human being, his face is actually quite attractive. His long blonde bangs fall gracefully across wide grey eyes in a graceful aristocratic way that reminds you a bit of Shoto. “I heard we’re going to get into some trouble together tonight.”

“Nope. Absolutely not.” You turn and glare at Mina, shooting her your best “WTF” expression.

“Mina! We can’t trust him – he ratted us out last time!” Toru says angrily, still unsuccessfully attempting to keep the whiteboard of plans out of site.

Monoma’s face creases into a frown. “Yeah…about that…”

Mina shushes him and beckons him into the small dorm room. She checks to make sure no one is out in the hall before closing the door soundly and turning the lock. She means business.

Monoma joins the three of you on the floor around the white board. In his dark attire, he looks very out of place among Mina’s hot pink room decor. Mina waits for everyone to get situated before speaking.

“Monoma is sorry. He reached out to me last week to formally apologize to us for tattling on our last party.” Mina says, straightforward and to the point. “He wants in on our next big bash.”

“What’s with this sudden change of heart?” You ask skeptically, crossing your arms as you survey Monoma’s face. He looks embarrassed, maybe even guilty as he meets your eyes.

“Well, you see - ” Monoma starts to speak, but Mina cuts him off with a quick wave of her hand.

“Let me do the talking, blondie.” She shuts him up. “Girls, this time around Monoma can’t rat us out – not now that we have leverage.”  She grins at you and Toru. “There’s something that Nieto here desperately wants. Something that only the three of us can provide at this time. And in exchange for that thing, Monoma is going to keep Mr. Vlad King out of our hair.”

“He can do that?” Toru says doubtfully.

“He can.” Mina says confidently, turning to the blonde intruder with a grin. “Okay, now you can apologize to them, Monoma.”

The Class B menace shifts uncomfortably on the floor, eyes slightly downcast. “Look, I know it was shitty of me to report you guys last time. I shouldn’t have - ”

“Yes it was shitty! We have a stupid curfew now because of you!” Toru bursts out, clearly pissed that her time is being wasted listening to Monoma.

“I know and I’m sorry!” He actually looks sincere. You wonder what the “leverage” Mina mentioned could be to make him act like a regular human being capable of remorse. “I was jealous of your class and the party and I didn’t think things through before I went to Mr. King. After I told him I…well, I regretted it immediately.” He hangs his head in shame and his regret actually feels sincere. His long blonde bangs cover his eyes and he stares at the ground, waiting for you all to speak.

“We would have invited Class B had we known you were interested. But we were under the, ugh, impression that some of you hated us so we didn’t even think to reach out about the party.” You say, feeling a tiny bit sympathetic at the way Monoma’s head is miserably flopped over. “Honestly we didn’t think our whole plan through last time, which is why it was so easy for the whole thing to fall apart.”

There’s a pause. Toru chimes in “Yeah, we definitely could have thought our plans through more. But your hatred for our class contributed to the disaster.”

“I don’t hate your class.” Monoma says slowly, feeling out his words. “I’m just…jealous of all the attention you guys get from the media and from the teachers. I thought that was pretty obvious. We’ve all worked so hard to get here; I thought that once I got to UA it would be an even playing field. But so often it feels like Class A gets preferential treatment.”

“I can see how you would feel that way.” Toru says stiffly, still unwilling to trust Monoma. “That’s a reasonable feeling. But you could have just tried to get to know us instead of acting like such an asshole all the time! We don’t want Class A to always be in the spotlight the way it is. Surely you see that.”

Monoma sighs. “For the past year I’ve really let my insecurities rule the way I act towards other people. And it’s made me an absolute dick. Look, guys, I’m legitimately sorry and I really want to help you make this party thing work. I’d understand if you don’t trust me and if you don’t want me involved. But please give me a second chance.”

You look at him distrustfully. “You’re saying all the right things, pretty boy. But what I really want to know – what’s this supposed “leverage” that we have over you here? How can we guarantee you’re not trying to lull us into a false sense of security so that you can eventually betray us?”

Mina grins. “Do you want to tell them, Monoma? Or should I?”

Nieto blushes, patches of scarlet bloom on his pale cheeks. “W-well…Mina said she could do something for me. Something I haven’t had the courage to try to do on my own - ”

“Spit it out.” Toru says, clearly reveling in his discomfort. “We don’t have all day.”

“R-right.” Monoma takes a deep breath, trying to regain his usual swagger. “There are two things that I want. The last time I reported your little scheme was because I was jealous I wasn’t invited. So obviously this time around I’d like Class B to be part of the party. And the second thing I’d like – a chance at a kiss.”

“You sound crazy.” You smirk at him. But you glance over at Mina and she nods at him, encouraging him to continue.

“So I figured as a more formal apology I could help you all pull off this party. I can distract Mr. Vlad King and make sure you don’t get caught. And in exchange, you could invite my class and give me a turn at Spin the Bottle.”

This is a lot to digest. You’ve never heard Monoma speak so rationally before, and you still fear it’s some kind of elaborate ruse. Also…he’s interested in your game of Spin the Bottle!? Weird.

“So who do you want to kiss?” Toru asks, a giggle bubbling up. “…Kendo!?”

Monoma looks away, embarrassed.

“Nope, that’s not it.” You say, grinning at Monoma’s obvious embarrassment. “If you don’t tell us, we have no shot at making it happen for you.”

“It’s Hitoshi Shinso.” Mina says knowingly, crossing her arms. “You want us to rig spin the bottle so that you’ll be able to kiss Shinso.”

You and Toru gasp and Monoma’s cheeks get red again. He covers his face with his hands, hiding himself from sight.

“Shinso!?” You and Toru cry out in shock. Monoma looks up at you all, his eyes wide. He’s got that unhinged look that you’ve come to expect from him during training exercises.

“Of course it’s Shinso!” Monoma bursts out – he’s back to his usual self. “He’s a goddamn wonder! He’s the only member of your class that truly deserves the prestige that Class A seems to exude!”

“Dial it back, dude.” Mina admonishes, and Monoma comes back to himself.

 “Listen. At this point, you guys have been around me in our joint training sessions enough times to know that I can be…challenging as a classmate and as a friend. Shinso doesn’t treat me like I’m some kind of burden or freak. Over the past semester, he’s become one of my closest friends. He’s kind and thoughtful and brave. Jeez, I have such a massive crush on him, I’m not even sure what to do at this point.”

He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment but continues on. “I overheard you all talking about your crazy ‘spin the bottle’ plan last month and its been stuck in my brain ever since. It would be the perfect way for me to organically be affectionate with Shinso. I don’t have the courage to confess my feelings to him on my own, and I thought that maybe… well maybe if the two of us kissed, then I could finally know how he feels about me. I could see if we’re more than friends.”

“Anyway I really shouldn’t have ratted you out to the teachers, that wasn’t cool. You have my sincere apologies.”

“What’s in it for us, Phantom Thief?” You cross your arms.

“Monoma is going to help keep Mr. Vlad King off of our trail. He and Class B are going to cause a diversion that will keep any teachers away from our party for a few golden hours. And a few members of Class B want to come to the party, of course.”

“How long have you been working through this Mina?” Toru asks in awe.

“Monoma and I started chatting about it after he ruined out last party. I went to confront him about being such an asshole, and he actually apologized immediately.”

“Now how are we going to guarantee a kiss between Shinso and Monoma?” You wonder aloud to your friends.

Mina gives her trademark toothy grin. “Leave that to me.”

You survey him, still untrusting. “We’ll think about it. But first, I want some intel.” He looks up at you curiously – he clearly wasn’t expecting this.

“So what does Class B think about the whole Sex Ed thing and these new rules? Where do you think this is all stemming from? Tell us what you know.”

“Hm.” He smirks at the three of you. “Alright.” Monoma launches into a detailed description of his day. It sounds extremely similar to your own experience - Midnight and Recovery Girl had joined Class B for a similar talk during their morning courses. Class B was just as shocked by the Sex Ed discussions and the new dating rules as Class A. According to Monoma, there are a handful of couples within the class that have been dating for a while. He wonders aloud if maybe the new dating rules are specifically targeted at them.

“People in Class B are hooking up!?” Toru gasps at the tea. “Who!?”

Apparently Shihai Kuroiro and Kinoko Komori have been dating for quite a few months, and Kosei Tsuburaba and Sen Kalibara have some kind of sexual tension situation going on where they might be dating in secret but no one is truly sure.  Oh and Setsuna dated Rin for a while, but they broke up and it was a whole dramatic thing. I think she’s started going out with Reiko now.”

You are shocked at the amount of dating drama Monoma is describing amongst Class B’s members. You instantly feel relieved, realizing that the dating ban can’t possible be about you and Shoto. It’s clearly a response to Class B’s previously uninhibited horniness.

“So are they all stopping now that the dating ban has been put into place?” Mina asks, clearly loving all of the intel.

“I think for the most part everyone is just going to continue on with whatever they’re doing. Everyone will just be a little more careful in front of the teachers and staff.” Monoma says thoughtfully. “I’m sure these rules are more about Class B than Class A – I don’t think I’ve heard anything about dating in your class?”

“Nope.” Mina provides helpfully. “No relationships that we know of at least. There’s definitely tension between certain members of our class. And we’re absolutely going to see if we can play on that tension with our Spin the Bottle pairings.”

“Mina, we can’t control who kisses who in Spin the Bottle. That’s the whole point of the game – the unpredictability of it all!” Toru says in shock.

“Oh so you’re saying you don’t want to kiss Ojiro?” Mina smirks at your friend.

“I’m not saying that.” Toru amends. “But there’s no way for us to pull the strings with this game. We’re at the mercy of the bottle!”

“Like I said earlier…leave that to me.” Mina winks.

When he’s acting like a normal person, Monoma isn’t actually all that bad. He’s actually pretty genius when it comes to strategy. Toru passes her white board over to him and he assesses your plan so far.

“What do you think?” Toru asks. Your current plan to distract Mr. Vlad King relies on a series of continuously unhinged prank calls that will divert him to different parts of the campus over the course of two hours. It’s not a great plan, but it’s the best you all have come up with in the past half hour.

“It’s a start, but I have a much better plan.” He reaches out his hand for the dry erase marker. Toru hands it over easily. He uses the palm of his hand to erase out a corner of free space. He draws two squares and marks the “Class A” and “Class B.”  He then sketches out another rectangular shape to represent the faculty and staff living quarters. “We’ll need to intercept Mr. King in between the faculty building and the student dorm buildings. I can run up to Mr. King and tell him that I have an urgent issue that I need his help with. I’ll lead him away from the dorm buildings and towards the combat training facilities.”

“What will you tell him?” Mina asks, leaning forward on her elbows.

“I’m going to say that a student from Class A went to do some solo training at night and ended up getting himself into trouble. Then I’ll point him in that direction before returning to the Class B dorms.”

“What student from Class A will be the diversion?” You wonder aloud.

Monoma’s smile sparkles in the light of Mina’s fairy lights. “Minoru Mineta.”

-----------------------------------------

The week goes by faster than you anticipated. You get pulled back into the whirlwind of UA life – classes, tests, training, studying. It’s all so much and sometimes you feel like you can barely breathe. You’re so busy you barely have time to grab a private moment with Shoto.

Late on Wednesday night, you’re lounging in the common area with Mina, Ochaco and Tsu studying for an upcoming English exam. You’re starting to get sleepy when you receive a text:

Shoto: Hey Y/N. Up for a quick study session?

You smile, knowing that he probably means he wants to hookup. You feel pretty prepared for the upcoming test and are caught up on all of your homework…so why not?

Y/N: Absolutely. Meet in my room in 10?

Shoto: See you then.

You make some lame excuse to your friends about needing beauty rest and hustle your way to your bedroom, tossing your book bag on the floor as you make sure everything is clean and tidy. Everything is in its place and your bed is made for once. You breathe a sigh of relief – Shoto is just so put together. It would be a little embarrassing for him to see your room in a messy state.

It’s been a few days since your last tryst with Shoto and between classwork and training those days feel like they’ve passed as months. Your body is exhausted from training but you feel jittery and horny at the thought of all the things Shoto will do to you when he arrives.

A moment later, there’s a knock. You wrench open your door with nervous, bubbling energy. You pull Shoto into your room and lock the door behind him soundly.

“You weren’t followed, right?” You whisper breathlessly as you loop your arms around his neck and move to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“This isn’t a spy movie, Y/N.” He winces as you kiss him, and you grimace as you notice a delicate bruise blooming on the side of his face from a rough training class. You step away to take him in – aside from the slight bruise on his face, he looks relatively unharmed. He’s wearing a pair of navy blue sweatpants paired with a plain grey t-shirt. The short sleeves of the shirt really show off his toned hero-in-training arms. His muscles bulge gently around the stack of books he’s cradling in his arms.

“What are the books for?” You ask curiously.

He looks at you, confused. “I thought we were studying.”

Oh. You face palm. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Shoto is so goddamn literal. You do like that about him – he tends to be mercifully straightforward and his motivations are easy to understand. He’s not cryptic like the other boys in your class - Kaminari who hides his nervousness behind flirtation or Bakugo whose true feelings are constantly masked behind aggression and death threats. No, Shoto is all softness and direct communication. You need to remember that.

“Shoto, I thought you wanted to do another kind of studying.” You waggle your eyebrows and wonder if he’ll catch on to your innuendo. He doesn’t.

“So you don’t want to prepare for the English test on Monday?” He asks, confusion coloring his voice. “I thought I was pretty clear that I wanted to study from the way I texted you.”

You facepalm.

“No, Shoto, I want to make out.” You state plainly.

“Oh. Oh!” Shoto tosses his books to the ground and grabs you by the waist, wrapping his arms around you as he dips to briefly connect your lips. He breaks the kiss and looks down at you, smiling softly. “We can make out.”

You roll your eyes playfully and reach up to cup his lovely face. “We can definitely study together later though.” You lean in and touch his lips with your own. He groans into your mouth, eager.

“I was looking for an excuse to hangout with you.” He admits in between kisses. “This is really nice, but I like spending time with you outside of physical intimacy. You know that, right?”

You smile into his lips. “I like that you’re so straightforward Shoto. But now I feel bad – do you want to actually study? I don’t want you to get a bad grade because of me.”

“No, I don’t really care about studying anymore.” He tightens his grip on your hips and turns you so that your back is against the door. He moves to kiss across your jawline, down your neck. His hands drift up to the hem of your shirt and he moves to pull it easily over your head.

“Holy fuck.” You breathe out as he presses you back into the solid wood door. His movements are gentle, but firm as he keeps you in place. He kisses down the expanse of your clavicle, letting his tongue roam smoothly across the tops of your breasts. He shifts to get down on his knees so that he can move his mouth across your stomach, kissing and licking the exposed skin there. He stops for a moment to take his phone out of his pocket and lay it on your desk before diving back into spreading kisses across your skin. Wherever his lips touch, he leaves a trail of goose bumps in his wake. He reaches up, up, up with his fingers so that he can wander the stretch of your bra–clad tits. He takes his time, smoothing fingertips over the cotton cups of your bra until he finds the places where your nipples lay underneath. He pinches lightly on the fabric and it’s enough to make you moan.

“Shh.” He whispers against your stomach, quieting you. It feels incredible, to have your body worshiped this way by Shoto. Each of his movements is so purposeful, so tender. You never want it to end.

“You promise you’re not going to fail English class due to my seductiony ways?” You ask weakly as he continues to kiss towards your belly button. Shoto laughs softly, a happy sound.

“I swear that pleasuring you isn’t going to ruin my grades. At least not yet. Can I take off your bra?” He asks quietly, bright eyes gazing up at you questioningly.

“Um, duh. Yeah you can take it off.” You say, wanting him to keep going. This pulls a grin out of Shoto’s typically serious face. The small bruise on his cheek crinkles along his smile lines. His hands slide up your body and around to your back. He fiddles with the clip to your bra for a few moments before managing to undo the clasp. He slides the straps down your shoulders, and slowly pulls the cotton fabric away from your body to reveal your perky breasts. The room is chillier than you thought, and your nipples harden as they are exposed to the crisp air conditioning. Shoto looks up at you with a look of awe.

“Incredible.” He breathes, before leaning up to take a nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your pert bud, eliciting another moan from your sweet mouth. He doesn’t bother to shush you this time, instead moving to knead at your other breast with his sure fingers while he uses his lips to suck on your nipple. He continues this for a while – using his mouth on both of your breasts and ensuring each gets equal attention. You bite your lip and try to keep quiet, running your fingers through his two toned hair and nodding encouragingly when he does something you like.

By the time he gets to his feet so he can kiss you on the mouth once more, you’re absolutely soaking wet. There’s a spark between your legs that you’re having a hard time ignoring. You need him in the absolute worst way.

“Sit in my desk chair.” You whine, pushing lightly at his chest so you can get away from the door.

“Hmm?” He says, clearly not listening. His eyes are hazy with desire as he looks at you.

“The chair.” You point. “Sit down.” He doesn’t ask any questions or argue, he walks over to the chair and takes a seat.

“Thank God.” You say as you walk over to him, tossing a leg over his lap so you can straddle him. You brace your hands on either side of Shoto, gripping the back of the chair as you make yourself comfortable. You lean down and capture his lips in a scorching kiss as you sit down, cowgirl style, on his lap. He’s so deliciously hard beneath you, and you’re thankfully both wearing sweatpants so the friction between you is buttery and smooth as you find the perfect angle to grind your pussy against him.

“Y’N.” Shoto groans out in surprise, there’s no way he could have anticipated this. He literally thought you two were going to study tonight. You grin and move your hips fluidly, grinding against his fat cock again. You’d do anything to satisfy the need that’s building up in your core.

“Shoto…Shoto put your hands on my - ” You don’t even need to finish your sentence, Shoto hears you loud and clear. He reaches for your breasts and plays with your nipples as you dry hump him on your desk chair.

“Ah! Yes!” You manage to say between gritted teeth. “Shoto, I think I’m gonna…”

He presses his lips to your own, essentially shutting you up as you bounce on his lap, grinding your way to an orgasm. He slides his hands down to your hips and helps guide your movements, shifting a bit beneath you. The new position presses the tip of his hard cock against your clit the next time your hips roll. Its wonderful and delightful and just the thing that pushes you over the edge. The orgasm hits you in a wave and you break away from Shoto’s lips so you can gasp in pleasure as you ride it out. Shoto is smiling at you, so open and genuine. He’s enjoying watching you get off – it shows on his face and in the way his cock twitches against you beneath a few layers of clothing.

When you finally come down from your high, you pull him into a hug and slump against his shoulder.

“Fuuuuck, Shoto.” You whisper, your breath slowing down. “That felt so good.” He brings his hand up slowly and traces an icy finger down your sweaty back. You feel your muscles relax beneath his touch.

“You’re incredible, Y/N. Thank you for that.” He says, voice tinged with something akin to awe.

You stifle a laugh. “You’re thanking me for cumming?”

“Thank you for being comfortable enough with me to do that. It means a lot.”

“Shoto, you are literally the sweetest.” You press a kiss to his soft cheek before slowly removing yourself from his lap. “Dang, between this morning’s practice and what we did just now…I am sore.” You find your shirt on the floor and throw it back on over your bare chest. You scoop up your bra from the floor and toss it in the hamper.

“Maybe I can help.” Shoto stands up from the chair and strolls over to your bed, hoisting himself up onto the tall mattress before beckoning you to join him.

“You’ve already helped me so much tonight.” You say, fluttering your lashes up at him until he blushes.

“Just get up here.” He pulls you up onto the mattress and into his lap so that your back is against his chest. You can feel he’s still a bit hard beneath your butt, but he seems to be ignoring his boner in favor of taking care of you. A true gentleman – Kirishima would be impressed.

“Where are you sore?” He asks, resting a hand on your waist.

“My lower back.” You point to the spot. Shoto lifts up your shirt and covers the sore muscles with his strong left hand. He spreads his fingers wide, covering as much surface area as possible before activating his quirk. His left hand slowly warms up like a hot compress. You feel his palm grow steadily warmer and you feel instant relief flood through your back, making you sleepy and comfortable.

“Shoto, this is heaven.” You praise, leaning your head back against his chest and letting your eyelids drop. He kisses the top of your head.

“Good. I just want to make you feel good Y/N.” He lets you relax into his hand and doze for a bit. You’re comfortable and happy and feeling very cared for. The silence is comfortable, but after a few minutes Shoto starts to hum an old 90s song and the rhythm of it lulls you into a true sleep.

An annoying buzzing sound wakes you. Over on your desk, your phone is buzzing and blinking incessantly – someone is trying really hard to get ahold of you. You ignore it, trying to focus all of your attention on the way that Shoto’s right hand is carding through your hair.

“Mmm.” You hum with pleasure as he drags delicate fingertips through your scalp. Your phone continues to buzz. You’re annoyed and can’t enjoy yourself properly. You reach out and stop Shoto’s hand before it can go any further. “I should really check that.”

You get to your feet and adjust your sweatpants, secretly cursing whoever is trying to get ahold of you. You open up your phone and the screen reads “Mina Ashido: 4 missed calls.” Huh? You quickly hit redial. The phone barely rings once before Mina is squealing into the phone.

“Mr. Aizawa is doing a curfew checks! Make sure you’re in your room!” She all but shouts into the phone.

“What!?”

“It’s only 10:05 and he gave Toru and I detention for being out in the common area past curfew! He said he’s doing bed checks and knocking on doors next. Are you in your room!?”

“OMG!” You hang up on Mina and frantically wave your arms at Shoto.

“Aizawa is doing bed checks! You need to get to your room now!”

Shoto’s eyes widen and he quickly scoops up his English books from the floor. You push him towards the exit in a panic. You wrench the door open and quickly look up and down the hallway – it’s mercifully empty. Mr. Aizawa clearly hasn’t gotten to this floor yet.

“Okay, it’s all clear – go, go, go!” You push Shoto from the room bodily, his eyes still large and overwhelmed as he goes.

“But wait, I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye - ”

“This is life or death Shoto! Get out of here!” You push him in the direction of the staircase and quickly shut your door behind him. You hear his footsteps recede down the hallway and breathe a sigh of relief.

You call Mina back in a hurry. “Hey, sorry I hung up! I was out in the hall and had to make a beeline to my room before Aizawa made an appearance. He hasn’t been up to my dorm yet.”

“Thank goodness I got ahold of you before you got caught after hours! Lucky timing.” Mina sighs. “Now Toru and I need to spend tomorrow evening cleaning the classroom since we ‘broke curfew.’ This is bogus!”

“Wait that sucks.” You look in your mirror and fix your static hair as you chat. Suddenly, you have an idea. “I can come and help you, though. We can discuss our master plan while we clean!”

Mina laughs. “That would make it more fun! You’re such a good friend Y/N. I can always trust you to make things a little brighter.” You feel a knot form in your stomach at these words – Mina still has no idea about you and Todoroki. The magnitude of this secret weighs heavily in your heart. You bite your lip with anxiety. Should you tell her? She majorly saved your butt with that warning call…

“You too, Mina. You’re the best.” You say. You can’t seem to find the words to explain your Shoto situation to her, so you opt not to tell her. Your stomach continues to turn over in guilty knots. You hear hard footsteps coming up the hall, followed by the sound of distant knocking. “Oh my goodness I think Mr. Aizawa just made it to this floor. I’d better go.”

“Bye, girl! Text me!” Mina hangs up, leaving you to finish adjusting your appearance in the mirror. You make yourself presentable, pulling your hair up into a clean ponytail and adjusting your clothes to look less rumpled. A moment later, there’s a hard knock on the door.

You take a deep breath to center yourself and try not to look super ultra guilty when you open the door. Your teacher stands looming in the doorway, his hero costume looking a bit worse for wear. He must have just come back from patrol. He looks world weary and exhausted, the deep shadows under his eyes look worse than usual. His eyes are bloodshot – a typical side effect of his quirk.

“Oh, hi Mr. Aizawa. Is everything alright?” You ask brightly.

He glares down at you, but not unkindly. With his reddened eyes, he just tends to glare.

“Just doing a random check to make sure everyone’s sticking to curfew.” He says, voice gravely. “I’m surprised you weren’t in the common room with Ashido and Hagakure, you’re usually inseparable.”

You blink nervously at this – is he onto you or are you just being paranoid?

“Yeah I wanted to get some quiet reading done tonight. And you know how they are…definitely not quiet.” That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said all day, but for some reason Aizawa buys it.

“Yeah you kids are definitely one of the rowdier classes I’ve had over the years.” His sour look softens into an almost-smile. “Please go to bed at a reasonable time – we have a lot of training this week.”

“Will do!” You chirp out – you can’t believe you’re actually getting away from this situation unscathed.

He moves on to the next room and mutters quietly, almost to himself - “I caught Todoroki out of his dorm, too. We’re going to need to review the definition of “curfew” in homeroom class tomorrow.” He gives you a vague wave and you shut the door quickly, breathless. So Shoto didn’t make it to his room – from the sound of it, he ran right into Aizawa on the stairs.

You reach for your phone to text Shoto about the situation, typing out a quick “You got caught!?” accompanied by some shocked emoji faces. You hit send, and are surprised when you hear a buzzing noise coming from the direction of your bed – in his haste to escape your room, Shoto left his phone on your pillow.

“Aw, crap.” You scoop up the phone in its plain grey case and see your own text flash against the screen. You place it on your nightstand and resolve to discreetly give it to Shoto before class the next morning. Poor Shoto – caught for breaking curfew. You feel bad knowing that you’re the reason he likely has detention with Toru and Mina.

You get ready for bed - pulling on your comfiest pajamas and smoothing moisturizer across the planes of your face. You’re exhausted and still basking in the afterglow of your little hookup with Shoto. It would be so nice if he were here with you right now to cuddle. You wish you could run your fingers through his soft hair and watch him fall asleep in your arms again. Despite his absolute insane skills in combat training, Shoto is such a sweet quiet soul. You want to praise him for his sweetness, and help him realize that there are so many wonderful pieces of him aside from his powerful quirk.

You settle into bed and get comfy amongst your plushies, settling in for a good night’s rest. Your alarm is already scheduled for the next morning, but you double check that it’s set anyway. You take a moment to scroll through Instagram and are startled when Shoto’s phone starts to buzz on your night table. You scoop it up out of habit and read the screen. It’s a text from YaMomo.

Momo: “Hey Shoto, you left your sweatshirt in my dorm room yesterday evening. Come pick it up tomorrow? Good night.”

Um…WTF!?

End of Chapter.

---------------------------------

OMG wowwww I have been working on this update for a while! I have been writing Part 4 + 5 simultaneously, so you won't need to wait that long for the next update to drop! Part 5 is going to be *even more steamy.* In the next part, our character and her friends throw a big party and the class participates in a high stakes game of ~spin the bottle.~ I think you're all going to really enjoy it (and all of the ensuing drama, ofc!).

Thanks so much for reading and for your continued support on this + other stories! I hope that this was worth the wait. ☺️ Feel free to check out my other spicy works on The Master List pinned to the top of my blog!

❄️🔥THE EXCLUSIVE ICYTHOT TAG LIST🔥❄️

Oh and YEAH!! I started a tag list - if you’re interested in being on my tag list for Shoto's First Kiss chapters, please let me know! This tag list will hence forth be known as the "IcyThots" (get it...like IcyHot but instead we are all Thots for Shoto!? Heehehehe). If you commented enthusiastically on the past chapters I added you to the tag list - let me know if you want to be removed and I will absolutely take you off! I'm still new to this whole thing, so appreciate your patience!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

supersecretsamm luvsymai s0uldarling quackledoodleduck

bakugosgirl01 jeanbabygirl ninayourdad dumbdysstuff

duffyinwonderland purplesuunset brundark100 sh3752 erinalysa

luna100v0 justagirlfr mayurin17 kiromiix ellalcves pokeureyesoutmf

kimsrie inlovewithluffy wtvbabes s0uldarling jeanbabygirl ava-cjkk

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ankle-biter69 s0uldarling tridentgumfreshy kimsrie

brie-is-cheesy jeanbabygirl kinichmyma ellielover69 ilyless

slut-4-gojo kiromiix celesteeeluv zanzie y0urlittlebaby

saucypeanuttt gojosukuna2268 purplesuunset wifeofleviackerman

kunikissr hicallmeveronica 18wqs lviaaaa shoutolust

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winters-midnightquiet jennapancake himitsu-hikari

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elizarikaallen stanseventeen signmyheart

[beta-therapy]

How to Deal with Sadness/Frustration from Rejection

We’ve all been there. We’ve all had a crush on a beautiful woman and wanted to give her the world, only to find out she has no sexual interest in us. Maybe she puts you in the friendzone; or maybe she makes it clear she wants nothing to do with you at all. It’s normal to feel frustrated in these situations, knowing that she probably has a vibrant sex life with other men, yet doesn’t have any sexual interest toward you.

When this happens over and over again, it can make us question our own self-worth: how come so many women have decided that sex is an activity which is off-limits to me? Do my sexual needs not matter? How come a woman can be salivating with excitement as she begs certain men to engage her in the most personal of ways—whereas with me, so much as asking if she’s single gets me permanently labelled as a creep?

As society becomes more and more accepting of personal freedoms, (especially regarding women) like allowing people to dress how they want, freely express themselves, do what they want in their own bedroom, etc., there indeed looms an increasing mental health crisis among those men who don’t get included in all the sexual fun. They can feel inferior and isolated. In this blog, I’ll discuss how to handle these emotions.

Although it might bring you feelings of shame, insecurity, and jealousy to find out that women consider you unsuitable for sex, it is important to understand that these feelings are rooted in misogyny. It is an outdated, oppressive idea that the goal of a man’s life is to acquire dominance, status, power, and wealth; and use this prestige to seduce beautiful women. This idea is so evil because it views women as beauty objects rather than equal human beings. Women are not trophies.

Women are full human beings with no less intelligence, leadership abilities, creativity, and dignity than the men who forced them to be quiet and submissive for all human history. A lot of men still refuse to acknowledge this today. They want to keep seeing women as less intelligent, less capable, submissive homemakers whose value comes from their sexual beauty.

That sexy woman you know probably does have a passionate sex life, but you should strive to admire her as a person: smart, strong, kind, witty, dignified. She can still have all these great qualities to her even if she has zero sexual interest in you. Considering her a “sexy woman” is—in and of itself—toxic masculinity at work. Why is “sexy” the first trait that comes to your mind when it’s clear that her sex life is off-limits to you? Maybe she is sexually submissive in her bedroom, but why should that concern you? She’s allowed to explore the “feminine” part of her existence in her private life without it subtracting from her value as an interesting, fascinating person in her public life.

You can still be a happy, nice, and fulfilled person even if all the women around you would prefer not to have sex with you. Just because the female community around you doesn’t want you as a sexual/romantic person, doesn’t mean you have been rejected as a person entirely. Sexuality is just one component of the human experience, and it’s very common throughout history for people to be deprived of it.

We have evolved for survival and reproduction, not necessarily to have good morals and be happy. For example, racism is part of our DNA. In prehistoric times, racism helped us stay away from warring tribes, so it was positively selected-for with respect to evolution. But in modern times, we can recognize that racism is a huge problem if we want an inclusive, happy society, and so we must actively denounce this artifact of our DNA.

Our sexuality is much the same way. Throughout history, the evil, abusive, tyrant was always better able to protect his children due to his status and wealth, in comparison to the poor, harmless, gentle, and caring man. That doesn’t mean the evil tyrant was a better person, but it does unfortunately mean that women would evolve a sexual attraction toward higher status, dominant men even if it meant overlooking their moral evil.

As a result, the things women are sexually attracted to are not necessarily the things that are good. You can take solace in this fact. Being sexually undesired by women does not mean there’s something wrong with you, it just means they see you as more harmless and submissive rather than powerful and dangerous.

[punkshort]

Roommates | 9. hold onto each other

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You build up enough courage to finally talk things out with Joel and tell him how you feel before the wedding is over.

Chapter Warnings: language, food and alcohol consumption, lots of smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral (f!receiving), pussy pronouns, fluff, discussions of mental health, shower sex, mirror sex, having sex while on the phone (don't know what else to call it, also don't know if that requires a warning), thigh fucking?, dirty talk, idiots in love

WC: 7.6K

A/N: I will not apologize for what you're about to read. (It's filth. Pure, unadulterated filthy smut).

Series Masterlist

"That is the man you were roommates with?" your mother asked enviously as she gazed at Joel across the dance floor, who was standing with another groomsman while he held up his mom's pink sparkly phone to record her dancing with Tommy.

"Yep," you said longingly, tearing your eyes away from him to look back at your mom. She tilted her head to the side and her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

"He looks familiar."

Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to scream into the palms of your hands as images of your own mother stumbling across Joel's porn filled your head.

She snapped her fingers with a smile. "Mitch and I saw him at the bar the other night! He must have been helping Tommy, he was carrying boxes of alcohol."

You shook your head. "No, Mom, that couldn't have been him."

"No, I'm certain it was. I remember even telling Mitch at the time they looked alike. And I would never forget those arms. The way they practically burst out of his T-shirt-"

"Mom!" you whined, begging her to stop.

She chuckled and took a sip of her wine. "Oh, please, let me have my fun."

You groaned and drank the rest of your champagne. Well, at least she didn't recognize him from porn.

The song changed to another ballad and you watched as Mrs. Miller kissed Tommy on the cheek before breaking away and motioning towards Joel. A small smile tugged at your lips as he pocketed her phone and took her hand before leading her around the dance floor. His face was filled with such love and adoration that it made your heart melt.

As you continued to watch Joel and his mother move around the dance floor, you felt yourself growing nervous again. Now that the cake was cut and the first dances were done, most of the significant parts of the wedding were over. Which meant soon you would need to muster the courage to talk to Joel.

Fuck, maybe you should have one more drink.

No, you didn't want to be drunk when you told him. He needed to know you meant what you said. You've done enough to him in the past year, jerking him around and unintentionally hurting his feelings. If you had any shot in hell, you had to make sure you were somewhat clearheaded.

Your mother was just finishing up her cake when she looked over your shoulder. Her eyes lit up excitedly and she straightened up in her seat, smoothing down her dress. With a frown, you turned to see what she was looking at then felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Joel approaching.

"Evenin'," he said to your mother, his voice deep and syrupy. "I'm Joel, brother of the groom." He stuck out his hand and your mother giddily handed hers over while giving her name. He brought her knuckles to his lips and she giggled, making you roll your eyes.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she gushed, her cheeks tinting pink already.

"Pleasure's all mine, ma'am," he answered, dropping her hand with a smirk. She gave you a look and raised her eyebrows.

"Ma'am, did you hear that?" she loudly whispered to you.

"Yes, I am sitting right here," you said flatly.

Joel cleared his throat and you looked back up at him.

"Was wonderin' if I could have this dance," he said to you, then glanced at your mother. "If you could spare her, that is."

Your mother giggled again and waved him off. "Of course! You two have fun, I was getting ready to go home soon anyway."

You quickly said your goodbyes to your mom before allowing Joel to lead you out onto the dance floor. He took one of your hands and held it out to your side, the other sliding around your waist while you rested your hand on his shoulder with a smile.

"I'm so honored," you told him with a teasing lilt to your voice as he slowly lead you around the dance floor.

"Why?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"I haven't seen you dancing with anyone else except your mom."

He smirked and tilted his chin up to look somewhere over the top of your head. "You been watchin' me?"

Your cheeks warmed from embarrassment but you didn't really care. "Maybe."

He hummed, smirk still stretched across his lips as he looked around the banquet room, but he wasn't really looking at anyone or anything in particular.

"You look handsome."

His eyebrows shot up and he looked down at you once again. "Thank you?"

You giggled and felt his fingers grip your waist a little tighter. "Is that a question?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Tryin' to flatter me, what're you up to?"

The butterflies began to stir in your belly once again so you dropped your gaze. "Well, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

The smile slowly slid from his face when he heard the serious tone to your voice. "Everythin' okay?"

"Y-yeah, everything's fine," you quickly assured him. Just then, Michael Bublé's voice faded out and the DJ picked a Black Eyed Peas song that instantly caused the dance floor to break out into cheers, completely ruining the atmosphere from a moment ago. "Nevermind," you said as you attempted to step away, but he tightened his grip. "I'll tell you some other time."

"Tell me now."

You winced when a handful of girls nearby began to drunkenly scream along to the lyrics. Joel looked frustrated when he finally dropped his hand from your waist but kept his other hand firmly wrapped around yours. "Follow me."

He lead you through the crowd and as you passed by your abandoned table, you grabbed your clutch. Shit. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to pour your heart out to him in the middle of his brother's wedding? What if he shot you down? What if he got mad at you for trying to drag him into your messy life once again? What if you were about to ruin the fragile relationship you just rebuilt?

He pulled you into the lobby, which was relatively empty given the time of night, and found a small area with a few couches and chairs and a television airing the local news on mute with the closed captioning on.

"Alright," he urged when you sat down next to him on one of the couches. You could hear the bass thumping from the closed banquet room and people's laughter echoing over the music, but otherwise it was quiet. You fiddled with the hem of your dress, trying to give your nerves a chance to settle, but it was no use.

"So, I told you I've been in therapy," you began, staring down at your lap, pretending to find a loose thread in your dress.

"Mhm."

"Lately, I've been working on my insecurities and self destructive tendencies. Specifically, related to you."

His fingers that were once casually tapping on the back of the sofa suddenly stopped.

"Okay..." he said slowly.

You cleared your throat and kept your eyes pinned to your lap.

"... and your job," you added, biting the inside of your cheek. "I've been working on... learning to be okay with it. Focusing on the source of my insecurities and why I feel the way I feel about it and I think I've made some progress."

"That's... good," he told you, clearly confused. "But why are you tellin' me this?"

You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to look at him. He was staring at you softly with his perfect lips pouting so enticingly, giving you the final bit of courage you needed to say what you wanted to say.

"I'm telling you this because... because I want to be with you, Joel. If you'll give me another chance, I want to do this right." His expression remained unchanged so you barreled ahead. "I don't care about your job. Not anymore. I just want to be with you. You make me happy, you make me laugh, I think about you all the time." You were growing more nervous with every passing second where he didn't say anything, so you continued to fill the silence with your own rambling thoughts. "Any time something good happens, I want to call you. Any time something bad happens, I want to call you. It's always you. It's always been you. And I'm sorry for everything I put you through and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to fix myself, but I couldn't -"

"Stop."

Your words died in your throat at his harsh tone. Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and tried not to cry as you waited for the sting of his rejection, but to your surprise, it never came. Instead, you felt his fingers gently pinch your chin. You opened your eyes to find him leaning forward, his gaze seeming angry despite his soft touch.

"You don't need to fix yourself," he said bitterly. "You're fuckin' perfect."

You exhaled loudly, a dry chuckle slipping past your lips as you wiped away a tear or two. "I'm not."

"You are," he told you firmly before finally closing the distance between you and brushing his lips softly against yours. "You are," he whispered again and again, each sweet kiss becoming more urgent than the last. You grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and held him close, pressing your mouth against his tightly before leaning back and pushing your foreheads together with a smile.

"Is that a yes?" you laughed.

"'Course it is, you kiddin' me?" he said quietly before sliding his hand up to grip the back of your neck, his nose gently nudging yours, the both of you taking a few tender moments to soak everything in with matching smiles. "I should probably tell you somethin', though."

One hand dropped from his collar and you tipped your head back a fraction so you could look him in the eye. "What?"

He grinned and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I quit my job."

Your eyes widened and you leaned all the way back in surprise. "What?!"

"Months ago, actually," he said with a laugh. You smacked him on the shoulder but you weren't mad. In fact, you were smiling so much it almost hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I didn't wanna pressure you. You said you were workin' on yourself and all that."

Your lower lip trembled and you smacked his shoulder again, but with less force. "I can't believe you," you whispered before tugging him forward and sliding your tongue past his lips with a moan. There was something so beautiful to be had in that moment. Each of you had done something monumental to try to make it work between you and it was so moving, so powerful that you found yourself getting carried away, completely forgetting where you were as you climbed into his lap, his hands immediately dropping to squeeze your ass. But who could blame you, when you've waited so long for that moment?

Joel pulled his head back with a sharp inhale, breaking the kiss when he heard a door across the lobby open and close. "Do you... we oughta... they're probably wonderin' where we are." He lifted one arm so he could check the time on his watch, then glanced back up at you. You were staring down at him, breathless and needy, your eyes already drifting back down to his mouth.

You didn't need to say anything.

"Fuck it, c'mon," he said, quickly lifting you off his lap so you could both stand. In your eagerness to race to the elevator, you almost forgot your purse. Doubling back as fast as your heels would carry you, you grabbed it from the couch and hurried back just as the elevator doors opened.

He jabbed the L4 button numerous times until the damn doors slid shut.

"Christ, wanted this for so long," he whispered, eyes squeezing shut when you pushed him up against the side of the elevator. "Wanted you for so long," he corrected himself after a moment. Your mouth found the exposed patch of chest at the top of his shirt and your tongue slipped out between your lips, flicking against his skin as you continued to leave wet kisses everywhere you could find. You made it to the hollow of his throat when the elevator dinged and you tore yourself away to drag him down the hall.

"Which room?"

"Don't care."

You picked yours. Your fingers were shaking as you raked through your small clutch, then tapped the hard plastic against the sensor, getting frustrated when you were going too quick and the door wouldn't open. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his hips against your ass so you could feel his arousal through your clothes.

"Not helping," you muttered before forcing yourself to slow down and finally the door gave way and you stumbled inside.

His mouth was on you in an instant. Eager lips pressed against your own, champagne soaked tongues reunited, tangling together while you recklessly shoved his tuxedo coat over his shoulders, leaving it crumpled on the floor near the bathroom as you made your way to the bed.

Joel's hands slid up and down the back of your dress, fingers plucking at the fabric, trying to locate the zipper without having to pull away. You tugged one of his hands to your side without looking, blindly leading him to his target. He smiled against your lips and yanked the zipper down so fast, he nearly tore the fabric.

Leaving your dress in a pile at the foot of your bed, you pulled away from the kiss so you could fall back onto the mattress. Your chests were heaving in unison as you both fought for air, staring at one another, anticipation growing thick.

His eyes drifted down your almost naked body while his fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt, lips parted to suck in more air as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Is this real?" he asked, eyes catching yours once again after he shrugged off his shirt.

"I think so," you replied quietly, sounding just as incredulous. "I hope so."

He loudly unbuckled his belt, then the fly of his pants as you laid before him, sprawled out over the plush comforter like an offering.

"Ain't ever lettin' you go after this," he warned as he stepped out of his pants. "Never again, hear me?"

You nodded. "Please don't."

He cupped his palms around the backs of your knees and tugged, pulling you to the edge of the bed with one rough motion.

"As pretty as these are, they gotta go," he murmured, hooking his fingers around the lace edge of your panties and sliding them down your legs. A little pained sound rumbled in the back of his throat when he spread your knees and saw the evidence of your arousal between your legs. He fell to his knees and rested the side of his face against your thigh as he gazed down at your aching center.

"Missed you," he whispered lovingly into your folds before dragging his tongue, slow and broad, through the entire length of your slit.

"Oh, my god," you whined when his lips puckered around your clit and gently sucked. "Were you talking to me or her?"

You felt his lips twitch against your sensitive skin and released your bundle of nerves with a little moan. "Was talkin' to her but I missed you, too."

Some sharp, sarcastic comment was on the verge of slipping past your lips but quickly got swallowed down and forgotten when he began to lick, his tongue probing into your cunt while his upper lip pressed against your clit. The friction from his beard on the most sensitive part of your body made you see stars. Your back arched and you cried out his name, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he continued to lick and suck with a deep groan.

"Joel," you whimpered, legs weakly stretching and kicking under his ministrations. He quickly put a stop to that by grabbing both and tossing them over his shoulders then using his hands to grip your thighs, but still you writhed in his hold.

"Y'got know idea what you do to me," he whispered under his breath before diving back in.

"Fuck... I-I can't..." you panted, fists grabbing the comforter, pulling and tugging, desperate to grab onto anything. His fingers dug into the crease of your thighs, holding your hips against his face, fucking you relentlessly with his tongue as if he were afraid he would never get a chance to do it again.

He slid one hand flat over your mound and pressed down on your clit with his thumb. You bucked off the bed, everything feeling too sensitive, too sharp. But still, he pinned you down, his tongue that was once lapping at your pussy suddenly more focused and calculated when his lips puckered together in favor of loudly kissing your sex with a deep groan.

With two quick and firm circles over your clit, you fell apart. He was saying something, you could feel the vibrations of his voice, but you had no idea what he said. Your throat had grown hoarse, fingers grabbing for his hair while your heart pounded in your ears.

"It ain't ever been like this," he said, and finally you were able to understand him. You slowly opened your eyes to find him hovering over you, his beard and mouth shiny with your slick and his eyes so wide and soft it made your chest ache.

"I know," you whispered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed when you pulled him close and pressed your mouth against his. He pushed you up the bed so your head rested on the pillows, never once breaking the deep kiss. It was slower, now. There was no rush, no need to hurry to keep what you had a secret.

"Shit, my condoms are 'cross the hall," he mumbled against your lips. The very last thing he wanted to do was leave you. Not now. Not ever.

"Just make sure you pull out," you told him, apparently also unwilling to let him leave, and reached down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

"Y-yeah, okay... okay," he breathed when he felt you line him up with your entrance.

His brain went numb and his features went slack as he slowly eased inside you. He couldn't take his eyes off your face; the way your eyebrows pinched together and the sound you made when you gasped softly, your body being forced to adjust to his size after months without him.

"Fuck," you whispered, eyes welling with tears as you gazed up at him.

"I know, I know," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over your nose.

"Joel, I love you," you whimpered in his ear when he finally buried himself fully inside you.

"What?" he asked breathlessly, certain he misunderstood.

"I love you," you repeated, your teeth nipping at his chin as you writhed underneath him, willing him to move. His eyes squeezed shut and he wrapped his arms around your middle, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I love you, too," he choked out, voice thick with emotion that he tried to stifle with kisses to your throat and jaw. "Love you so fuckin' much. Always did, I think."

He clenched his jaw and flexed his hips, pulling a sweet moan from your lips as you tipped your head back and closed your eyes. He was so slow with it, making sure you felt every inch when he dragged his cock in and out, your arousal painting his inner thighs every time his hips made contact with your skin. You might have felt embarrassed if you both weren't so preoccupied with trading love bites and occasionally whispering you feel so good, I missed you, I love you, I love you, I love you, chests pressed together, desperate to get as close as possible.

You unhooked your ankles from his lower back and slid your legs up his sides so your knees were resting near his ribs. With his tongue still tangled with yours, he blindly reached down to grab one of your thighs and gently pressed forward, pushing your knee towards your chest. Your eyes flew open and you gasped at the intense angle, but still he kept up the same pace. Every thrust was slow and deep, every groan was low and soft, and every whisper sounded like a prayer.

"Just wanna feel you," he murmured against your neck, his beard scraping your skin, making it feel warmer than it already was. "Wanna fuck you like this always. Shit, baby," he moaned when he felt you clench around him. "Shit, that feels good. Such a soft pussy..." he trailed off and latched onto your lips for a fast and messy kiss. "Oh, fuck... best fuckin' pussy I've ever had."

And oh, did you love hearing that. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp with a deep sigh.

"Yeah? You love her, too?"

He grinned. "Y'know I do."

He hitched your other leg over his arm, practically bending you in half while grinding into you, watching as your breath quickened and your tongue shot out to wet your lips. "Joel," you whined, the pressure mounting low in your belly, "I'm close, I'm... fuck, I'm gonna come. Please," you begged, not really sure what you were begging for in the first place. Maybe for him to keep going. Maybe for him to kiss you again. Maybe for him to fill the hole in your heart that's been destroying you for months.

When you came, you squeezed around his cock, his name getting caught in your throat when his mouth crashed over yours.

"So pretty," he mumbled, voice a little strained as he tried to keep it together long enough for you to come down. "Love watchin' you come. Who makes you feel good, baby?"

"You do," you whimpered, weak fingers grabbing at his shoulders.

"'S'right," he said, his breath growing ragged. He could feel his stomach tensing and he knew he only had a few more moments. "Only me. Tell me you're mine," he pleaded, his sweaty forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"I'm yours, Joel," you told him, voice a little clearer but still shaky. "And you're mine," you added softly, corner of your mouth lifting when you heard him groan.

He pulled out and grabbed his cock, giving it only a few quick strokes before he painted your stomach with his release, the both of you watching in a daze until he stopped with a shudder and collapsed onto the bed next to you, chest heaving with an arm draped tiredly over his eyes.

"I'll get somethin'," he told you, gesturing vaguely towards your stomach with his eyes still hidden. "Just... gimme a second."

"Mhmm," you mumbled, catching your breath with your arms stretched above your head. "I need a shower, anyway," you told him, all the hair products and makeup from the past twelve hours beginning to feel like paint.

"Oh?" he questioned, sounding disappointed when he turned his face to you. "Okay, sure."

"Will you stay?" you asked, hating how pathetic you sounded. But he smiled warmly and pinched your chin before planting a soft kiss against your lips.

"'Course I'll stay," he whispered, kissing you slowly once more before releasing you.

Joel watched with a lazy smirk as you stood with a quiet ow under your breath, your body no doubt already sore.

"Gonna have to get that pretty pussy used to me again," he teased, laughing and dodging the pillow you grabbed from the other bed that you chucked in his direction before entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

He laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the water turn on and the shower door close. He kept waiting to wake up, kept thinking the past hour was some crazy dream or fantasy, but it was real.

You loved him.

For years, he tried to find someone like you. Someone who would love him for him and not just use him. Sure, in the beginning he didn't mind being used. But the past few years he found to be painfully lonely. Especially once Tommy met Maria, that ache in his chest grew every time he saw them together, or every time he heard Tommy on the phone or talk about her with such fondness in his eyes. Selfishly, he always wondered why not me?

Now he had his answer. He was just waiting for you.

He heard you humming in the shower, your voice echoing off the glass walls and he smiled. He imagined you in there cleaning yourself up, your perfect body all soapy and wet and he felt his cock twitch.

"Shit," he muttered, lifting the thin sheet to see himself begin to swell once again. Would it always be like this? Would he always have an insatiable appetite for you?

A minute later and he was almost fully hard once more. He palmed it over the sheet and he looked longingly at the closed bathroom door. What was taking so long?

Then a smirk spread across his face and he jumped up from the bed, cock bobbing at attention between his legs as he walked to the bathroom and quietly opened the door.

The mirror was fogged up and so were the glass shower walls. He could hardly see you through all the steam, but he heard you. He heard the water cascading off your body and your fingers running through your wet hair.

Carefully, he opened the door and was pleased to find your back was to him as you rinsed out the last of your conditioner. When he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and screamed a little before collapsing into a fit of laughter and turning around in his arms. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. All the makeup was down the drain but you looked more radiant than ever.

He leaned forward for a wet kiss, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze your ass before pulling on your hips, tugging you closer so you could feel how hard he was for you.

"Need you," he murmured, but he meant more than just the obvious. He didn't want to be without you now that he had you, not even for a second.

"Already?" you breathed, but he just nodded, his lips dragging down your neck, your skin smelling like roses and vanilla.

"Too much?" he asked, mouth trailing slowly over your shoulder. Your nipples were pressed against his chest and his cock nearly hurt from how hard he was.

"No," you whispered, letting your eyes slide shut as you curled your arms around his neck. "Never too much."

Without hesitation, he crouched and grabbed the backs of your thighs, hauling you off the ground so he could press your back against the glass. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when the tip of his cock nudged at your opening, the width surprising you, even still.

You let out a loud moan when he pressed forward, sinking himself back into your sore, aching heat, right where he belonged. One of his hands supported your ass and the other was flat against the glass next to your head, his fingers leaving wet smudges as he rocked his hips into you, swallowing down every whine and moan that tumbled from your mouth. That perfect fucking mouth he dreamed about for the past year. And now it was all his.

"God, Joel, yes... right there," you cried out, cunt already pulsing and gripping him so tight that he had half a mind not to pull out that time.

"Yeah?" he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he nipped at your chin, watching as your head rolled listlessly against the foggy glass while he drove into you over and over. "There?"

"Yeah," you practically whined, hand shooting up to grab his hair, fingers slipping through his wet curls. "No one's ever... I can't... you're so-" you rambled half formed thoughts as your heart hammered in your chest, your orgasm steadily climbing, unable to tell him what you wanted to tell him.

"No one's what, baby?" he growled, thrusting himself impossibly deeper inside your cunt. "No one's ever fucked you this good? Huh?"

"No," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip.

"What else? No one's ever made you come this much? Tell me, I wanna hear it," he groaned in your ear, his hot breath melting with the steam from the shower.

You shook your head then nodded, as if you didn't know how to answer. And you couldn't. Not when he was fucking you like it would be the last time.

"No one's ever - oh, fuck," you gasped, swallowing a mouthful of air, "no one's ever m-made me feel so good. I've never w-wanted anyone the way I want you." You squeezed your eyes shut but he quickly bit your jaw, forcing them back open.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You nodded, jaw half open as you did as you were told. His brows were furrowed deep, eyes wild and skin flushed as he pounded into you, forcing you over the edge for the third time in less than two hours.

"I got you," he murmured when your body sagged from the effort. He wrapped both arms around you now and fucked up into you recklessly, chasing his own high as quickly as possible so he could take you back to bed and rest.

Even though the voice inside his head was screaming at him to come inside you, he miraculously pulled out, spilling himself all over the shower wall between your legs.

"You okay?" he asked breathlessly, setting you down but still holding onto your shoulders. You nodded and slumped against his chest, legs visibly shaking. He chuckled and reached for the shower knob, turning the water off before walking you towards the door. Swinging it open, he reached out blindly for a towel. Finding one, he wrapped it around your shoulders, swaddling you and keeping you warm while he reached for another.

He messily knotted it around his waist and led you to bed. You didn't even bother to put any pajamas on or remove the towel, you just buried yourself under the covers with a contented sigh.

Joel was about to turn back to the bathroom and clean up a bit before you spoke.

"Come to bed."

His heart clenched in his chest and he smiled as he rounded the bed and slid under the sheets to join you, unable to resist.

Quickly, you scooted over to him, tossing a leg over his stomach and an arm over his chest and buried your face against his neck. He held you close, breathing in deep before you whispered, "I love you, Joel."

"I love you, too," he spoke into your hair, his chest ready to burst with happiness as you both fell into a deep sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, you smiled before you even opened your eyes. Joel's natural scent combined with the floral shampoo you used that the hotel had left out filled your nostrils. You breathed in deep and buried your face further into his warm, bare chest. He stretched underneath you, muscles pulling under his tanned skin, his fingers digging into your shoulders as he flexed.

"Morning," you whispered groggily, eyes still closed. You felt his arms wrap around you as he rolled onto his side, tugging you against him.

"Mornin'."

It can always be like this now, you thought. Waking up next to each other whenever you wanted. No sneaking around, no more hiding how you felt. It was perfect.

Until Joel's phone rang shrilly on his nightstand. He groaned and, keeping one arm securely around you, reached behind him to grab it.

"Hello?" he answered, voice thick and rough with sleep. Your body responded instantly, your core softening at his voice like it was a command, but what came with it was also a tight hint of soreness from the night before.

You could hear Tommy's voice through the phone, but you couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Nah, I'm hungover as shit, gonna order somethin'," Joel said.

You thought he had been joking the night before about getting your body used to him again, but you began to realize he was probably being serious the more you squirmed around and felt the stiffness in your muscles and hips.

"Yeah, alright. If I don't see ya later, I'll catch ya at the bar tomorrow."

He tapped his screen and tossed his phone haphazardly behind him with a smirk. "C'mere," he murmured, pressing his swollen lips against yours, his hand drifting to cup your face.

Christ, you were sore but you still wanted him so badly.

You flicked your tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss the second he dropped his jaw. Right when you were about to curl your leg around his hip and roll over to straddle him, your own phone began to vibrate loudly against your nightstand.

You both froze, lips still seared together, then slowly opened your eyes.

"Hold on," you grumbled, rolling over so your back was to Joel, then picked up your phone.

"It's Maria."

"Answer it," he said, inching closer. He pulled you back against his chest, cock hard and pressing between your bodies as you begrudgingly answered the phone.

"Hey! Have a fun night?" you asked cheerily. Your eyes snapped up to see movement in the full length mirror across from the bed. It was narrow, but you could see from your stomach down. Joel was pushing the sheets off himself and you watched as his hand drifted in front of you, tugging the sheet away from your chest, exposing yourself to the cool air. When he palmed one of your breasts from behind, you had to bite back a moan so Maria wouldn't hear.

"So much fun! I hardly got any sleep," she was saying, but you could barely hear her when his fingers slid down to pinch your nipple. You turned your face upwards to gasp softly, hoping it didn't get picked up by the receiver.

"Yeah?" you asked, hoping that would be enough to encourage her, and it was.

Maria kept babbling about things that happened the night before, things you missed after you and Joel snuck away. She was telling you something about a groomsman who attempted to do a split in the middle of the dance floor and ended up ripping his pants when you saw Joel lift your leg in the mirror, hooking it around his inner elbow and spreading your hips wide. Embarrassment flushed your face when you saw your pussy in the mirror, already glistening with arousal.

Then his cock slipped between your legs, nudging at your folds, his smooth tip coating itself in your slick before he pushed forward, parting your swollen cunt. The pain was brief, yet intense, but you were entirely distracted with the way it looked in the mirror. How fucking big he was and how you opened up and stretched so beautifully for him.

"Did the phone cut out?"

"Huh?" you squeaked, eyes transfixed on your reflection, hips rocking steadily in rhythm with his. You felt him chuckle behind you, his arm pulling your leg up even more so you could see everything.

"I asked if you wanted to join us for breakfast? The rest of the bridal party is meeting at the restaurant downstairs in twenty minutes."

Fuck, he felt so good. Combined with the visual, it was almost too much.

"Uh, I'm gonna pass. I already ate, I'm pretty full," you told her, eyes briefly fluttering shut when he began to move faster, his skin lightly slapping against your ass. You thought you heard him mumble yeah, you are, and you had to bite down hard on your lower lip.

"Well, okay. If you change your mind, we'll be down there at ten."

"Okay, thanks! I better go, my mom's beeping in. I'll call you later," you said hurriedly, hoping you weren't being too rude but if you stayed on the phone with her for one more minute, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide what you were really doing.

Mercifully, she hung up and you tossed your phone onto the floor, uncaring where it ended up, and reached behind you to curl your fingers around the back of Joel's head. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was messy and heated, and the way you had to twist your neck was awkward, but it didn't matter.

"Fuck yeah, baby. Look how good you take me," he groaned in your ear when he spotted you glancing towards the mirror again. "So pretty, ain't it?"

"Mhmm," you whined, still entranced by the way his thick cock split you open and you knew for sure in that moment no one else would ever come close to Joel. You were stupid to try to fight it.

Your hand dropped to clutch your pillow, your stomach drawing tighter the faster he snapped his hips, every devastating thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you whimpered, and he readjusted his grip on your leg, prying you open as wide as you would go.

You felt his teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hot and quick as his exhale puffed against your skin.

"That's right. Come all over my cock, baby. Give it t'me," he growled, hips slamming into you from behind so forcefully it almost pushed you off the bed, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper inside you.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you cried out when you came, your walls pulsing around his length, your body trying to suck him in and keep him there and fuck if he didn't want that, too.

At the last second he pulled out, watching in a daze as he dropped your leg, his cock now sandwiched between your thighs. With a deep groan, he watched in the mirror as he shot thick, white ropes of his seed all over your legs and the hotel sheets.

"I love you," he gasped, his sweaty forehead pressed against your upper back as he dragged in mouthfuls of air, waiting for his pulse to settle. "'M sorry, can't stop sayin' it."

You reached behind you and found his hand. Lacing your fingers together, you wrapped his arm around your middle, mumbling I love you, too, never tiring of it.

You waited a respectable amount of time for the bridal party to eat and leave the restaurant before venturing downstairs together, hand in hand. You contemplated just ordering room service but you weren't entirely certain you could keep your hands off each other long enough to eat, so forcing yourselves to leave the room felt like the best option.

The hostess led you to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, the room still buzzing with activity even though it was late in the morning. Your fingers linked together across the table as you sipped your coffees, exchanging little smirks whenever your eyes met.

"Can I ask you a question?" Joel asked, and you almost found yourself laughing at how serious he suddenly looked.

"Of course."

He glanced around the dining room quickly before leaning across the table. "You ain't on birth control anymore?"

You knocked the heel of your hand against your forehead. "I'm sorry, I should've told - no, I'm not. I took myself off the pill because I wasn't... y'know," you trailed off, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Joel couldn't stop his smirk when he put it together so he pursed his lips and tilted his face toward the table, trying to hide it before saying, "so you're tellin' me you didn't have sex with anyone else since me?"

"Don't act so proud," you teased with a grin.

"I ain't," he said defensively, then thought about it for a moment before laughing. "Okay, maybe I am."

You giggled as you watched him take a sip of coffee, daydreaming about your future together and all the endless breakfasts you'll share. You imagined getting up early for work and showering, then coming into the kitchen to find Joel in just his pajama bottoms pouring you both coffees with unkept hair, asking if you saved him enough hot water because he still had to get ready for work.

Work. Suddenly, your smile fell when you remembered something. "Wait, you said you quit your job?" you asked, and he nodded, his thumb rubbing against the inside of your wrist. "So what do you do now?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "You ain't gonna believe it."

"Try me," you teased, knees bumping together under the table. You were close but still felt so far apart.

"I bought the bar," he said, sounding almost sheepish. Your eyes widened in surprise.

"Our bar? Tommy's bar?" you questioned, and he nodded. "H-how?"

He chuckled again and raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "What'dya mean how? With money."

"Yeah, I figured that," you said with a roll of your eyes, "but you just bought a house, too. How can you afford all that?"

He opened his mouth to reply when the server came to drop off your food. You finally unlinked your hands so you could pick up your silverware, and only once your waitress left did he respond to your question.

"Porn paid good," he said with a shrug. "I did it for a long time and I lived with my brother payin' next to nothin' in rent and utilities."

"Wow," you breathed in awe before shoveling some eggs in your mouth.

He watched you eat quietly for a few minutes before clearing his throat, drawing your attention from your breakfast.

"Why didn't you just ask me to quit? I woulda done it."

You paused your chewing and set your fork down on your plate.

"Because," you began, swallowing your food. "I couldn't ask you to do that for me. It wouldn't feel right and I was afraid if I did, you would grow to resent me."

His brows furrowed and he reached a hand across the table for you. "I woulda never resented you."

"You don't know that," you told him.

"I wasn't happy doin' it. Not like I used to be, anyway," he said. "Kept me from havin' certain things in my life. Could never make a relationship work and as I got older, it was somethin' I really wanted. I just didn't know how to get out. I mean, who can put somethin' like that on a resume?" he laughed softly. "Then Tommy mentioned his boss was lookin' to retire and I thought, hell... won't have to put shit on a resume if I'm my own boss."

You nodded and squeezed his hand, feeling guilty for never realizing he had his own internal struggles going on. Then you swallowed nervously before asking your next question, your curiosity unable to be ignored.

"Well, what about Sadie?" you asked, "she seemed really into you and she obviously wouldn't have had a problem with your career."

He gave you a small smile, eyes flashing with guilt when he thought back to his brief date with Sadie. The night he invited her over for board games and he ended up going down on you in the bathroom while she was left to talk to strangers in the living room.

"She was nice but there wasn't anythin' there. Not really. I was jealous of Sam and knew she liked me... I shouldn't've asked her over that night. It was wrong," he admitted, rubbing his chin. "She never stood a chance. She wasn't you, baby," he said softly.

You felt your chest clench from the tortured look in his eye, and for the millionth time you mentally berated yourself for spending so much time avoiding your feelings for him. Choosing not to deny yourself any longer, you stood up from your chair and closed the short distance between you. Cupping his face with both your hands, you leaned down and kissed him, trying your very best to put every ounce of love you had into it. It must have worked because you could feel his lips curving into a smile, then yours did the same.

It didn't matter how long it took, what mattered was what you had now.

Unfortunately, your bliss was short lived when you heard an all too familiar voice shriek excitedly behind you. You tore yourself away to swivel around in surprise, only to find Tommy and Maria standing a few tables away with their jaws hung open in shock, very clearly having witnessed your kiss.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, tugging on Tommy's arm to drag him over to your table. "I knew something was up when neither of you wanted to join us for food!"

Cheeks blazing hot with embarrassment, you were about to return to your chair but Joel's arm wrapped around you, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap. "No more hidin', yeah?" he murmured in your ear. You grinned and gave him one more quick peck.

"Yeah," you agreed right before they approached. "No more hiding."

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[girlgenius1111]

behave

ingrid leaves for 2 weeks for national duty. sol and mapi try to stay out of trouble and fill the time. they are successful at one of those two objectives. some medical trauma discussed.

-------

“And I have an extra one of her inhalers, in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. She hasn’t had an asthma attack in a while but-”

“-But just in case, Solstråle has one in her backpack, and you have one in the medicine cabinet. Ingrid, relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ve left the two of us before.” 

“I know, but this time it's for longer, and she’s still not really herself. So many things have happened and I’m so worried,” the Norwegian rambled. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened, and you were doing better. You were adjusting. Ingrid still didn’t really want you out of her sight, but she was due at the airport to fly back to Norway for the international break. She’d already said goodbye to you back at the house, and now she was very anxiously trying to give Mapi some words of advice before she had to go. It wasn’t the first time she’d left you with Mapi to play for Norway, but it was the first time since your mental health had really declined, since Ingrid became aware of how hard of a time you were having. 

“Ingrid, amor, I know. I will take good care of her. Do you trust me?” Mapi said calmly, squeezing one of Ingrid’s hands. 

“Of course, María, I’m sorry, of course I trust you. It’s just… keep an eye on her? Please?” Ingrid’s worry bled through her tone, eyes pleading with Mapi to agree to her request. 

“I promise, Ingrid. We’ll be completely fine. And if we aren’t, I’ll call you.” 

“Okay.” Ingrid said quietly. 

“Alright. Fly safe, mi amor. I love you.” Mapi said, pulling Ingrid into a hug. Her girlfriend clung to her, and Mapi rubbed her back softly, trying to provide some comfort. 

“I love you too.” Ingrid whispered, pulling back to leave a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, before turning and walking into the airport. 

Mapi sighed, a bit relieved because she honestly wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning home with Ingrid after a failed airport drop off. The Norwegian had been increasingly anxious about you in recent weeks, and Mapi knew that leaving you, now, felt like she was failing you as a sister, and as a guardian. She also knew, however, that she had the situation handled. You were comfortable with Mapi, and she was confident in her abilities to keep an eye on you, and make sure you were doing okay. 

She understood Ingrid’s anxiety. The Norwegian had always been a person who needed to feel control. Leaving her very vulnerable sister behind while she went off to play football for two weeks would certainly not give Ingrid the sense of control she craved in every situation that scared her. 

Ingrid had gone, though. Entered the airport, gotten on the plane. And now it was time for Mapi to get back home to you, and begin the 2 weeks of fun she had planned. 

------

Mapi wanted to bond with you, in a way that didn’t involve heavy emotions and tears being spilled. She wanted to do something fun that you enjoyed. Even if it wasn’t something that she necessarily wouldn’t have chosen. When you enthusiastically suggested that you both go to your rock climbing gym, she’d agreed easily. How hard could it be? She was a professional athlete. She was fit and strong, and she knew she could do it. She’d checked with the trainers at Barça, and she’d been cleared for the activity. An important piece of information that she’d forgotten, however, was that she wasn’t the biggest fan of heights. 

Well, it wasn’t that she forgot. It was more that she just didn’t think it would be an issue. Her fear of heights had decreased significantly in recent years. She went on hikes often up tall hills and mountains, and was barely bothered. She didn’t stop to consider that being tied to a wall and climbing to the top with very little support would be harder. 

It was easy to get on the helmet, the harness, and all the gear. It was adorable to watch you expertly tie the knots to her carabiner, very nonchalantly, though Mapi could tell you wanted to impress her. It was fun to learn all the silly little commands she was supposed to shout. It was fun that you knew all the right pointers to tell her, easily getting her going up the wall. It was even fun climbing; it took a specific muscle strength that was slightly different than the one she possessed, and it was just difficult enough to present a challenge, without being overwhelmingly difficult. 

As she got higher up, though, she became more and more aware that the only thing between her and falling a very significant distance to the ground was a rope and a self belaying machine. She kept herself calm, though, until she got to the top of the wall. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at where you were cheering for her. 

That was her mistake. The ground was so far away. And once she started to panic she couldn’t really stop. 

You were yelling instructions up to her, ones she could barely hear.“Okay, like I told you. Flip the hand brake to the other side, and let the slack of the rope slide through your hand.” 

“NO!” Mapi shouted, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t? Is it stuck?” You replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Mapi might be scared. She was Mapi. She was fearless and confident and she was brave for you when you weren’t sure you could be. 

“No, Sol, I can’t. I can’t.” Mapi said again, and you were floored to hear her start to get choked up. She had a white knuckle grip on the rope in one hand, holding tight to one of the handholds with the other. She looked like her whole body was trembling, and you floundered for a minute, entirely lost on what to do and how to help. 

Though after thinking about it for another minute, the solution was clear. Ingrid could fix Mapi, just like Mapi could always fix Ingrid. 

“Okay, Maps, hold on I’m gonna help you.” You shouted, seeing her nod weakly. There was no getting her down like this. You had to have some confidence in the equipment, and yourself, in order to repel down the wall, and Mapi clearly possessed confidence in neither of those things at the moment. 

You grabbed your phone and called Ingrid. It went right to voicemail. You called again, waving off the worker who came up to ask if you needed help. 

“I’m calling Ingrid, Mapi, just hang on.” 

Ingrid didn’t answer for a second time. You dialed Caro’s number, one you had for emergencies, and she picked up on the first ring, no doubt concerned at the sight of your name on the caller ID. 

“Hello?” Caro said. 

“Caro, are you with Ingrid? Can you get her for me?” 

“Uh… yeah. She’s in the gym, I’ll grab her. Is everything okay?” 

“No, please hurry.” 

It was unsettling to see Mapi this distraught, and you were absolutely flooded with guilt that you’d made her do this. She was clearly terrified and it was all your fault.

You heard some muffled voices over the phone before Ingrid’s absolutely panicked one came over the line. 

“Solstråle? What is it?” She asked, beside herself with worry. 

“Um. Mapi and I went to the climbing gym. And she made it to the top of the wall but now she’s… stuck.” 

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?” 

“She’s too afraid to come down, I don’t know what to do.” 

Ingrid fought off a smile. The mental image of Mapi stuck at the top of an indoor climbing wall, securely attached to a rope, a thick mat underneath her, in absolutely no danger at all, was comical, she couldn’t lie. 

“Switch it to a video call.” She instructed, for no other reason than to get photographic evidence of this. Alexia would be getting a late birthday gift this year, in the form of this moment, framed. 

You did as she asked, flipping the camera around to show Mapi up at the top of the wall. It was the shortest one in the place, and Ingrid had a very clear view of her girlfriend, holding onto the wall and the rope for dear life. 

“Oh, María.” Ingrid chuckled, finding the whole situation very amusing. She took a screenshot, before you spoke and the situation became significantly less funny. 

“Ingrid, I think she’s crying.” You murmured. That sobered up your sister pretty quickly. It was one thing for Mapi to be scared, and entirely another for her to be so terrified she was moved to tears. Ingrid very suddenly remembered Mapi’s fading fear of heights. Or, what was supposed to be a fading fear of heights. 

“Shit. Can you get up there? With me in your pocket or something?” 

You sounded almost cocky when you responded. “I could get up there with my eyes closed. It’s the easiest wall.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, get me up to her.” 

You did as your sister asked, attaching your harness to the ropes and getting the self belay machine all set, before you slipped your sister into your pocket, and climbed up the wall, at a speed that could only be described as a sprint. It took longer than it could have, because you went slightly diagonal, trying to get as close to Mapi as you could. When you reached her, she seemed completely spaced out, every muscle in her body tensed, a few tears on her cheeks. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turned the volume up, and held it up so Mapi could see her girlfriend. 

“María?” Ingrid said soothingly. 

Mapi snapped back into herself, her head whipping around to look at the phone, and at you. 

“Ingrid.” she said, relief clear in her voice. 

“Hey. Are you scared?” 

“No, I am staying up here for fun Ingrid.” Mapi snapped. Ingrid looked unimpressed, and Mapi mumbled an apology. 

“Can you listen to what Sol tells you to do? And do it with her?” 

“Isn’t there another way I can get down?” She asked in a quiet voice. 

“Yeah, I can cut the rope and you’d drop right down.” You deadpanned. Mapi looked horrified at you, and you choked back a laugh. 

“Solstråle, that is not nice!” Ingrid scolded. “María, my love, you are completely safe. You’re going to do what Sol says, and you’ll be back on the ground in a second, okay?” 

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, glaring at you. 

“See you in a sec Ingrid! If we make it down alive,” you added, tucking your sister back into your pocket before she could yell at you again. 

When you spoke again, though, it was soft and encouraging, and Mapi knew that you were taking her fear seriously. It is one of those little signs that you loved her, too. You weren’t as good at saying it, having not heard it said to you for a lot of your life, but you showed it. When you’d squeeze her hand during a Barça game, knowing how hard it was for her to sit out. When you’d find a silly cat tiktok and send it to her, even though she knew you didn’t find whatever it was very funny. And now, when you talked her through the whole thing, assuring her that she’d be safe the whole time. 

“It’s gonna be fine, Maps. Flip the handbrake off, and hold tight to the rope. You won’t go anywhere until you let yourself.” 

Mapi found herself following your instructions without much thought. You just very clearly sounded like you knew what you were doing. 

“Okay, good. Now loosen your hand on the rope, just a little. A bit will slide through and you’ll drop. The less you let go of, the slower you’ll descend.” Mapi let the rope go a bit, lowering maybe an inch. You nodded encouragingly, lowering down with her. “Keep your feet on the wall. You’re just going to walk yourself down. You can go as slow as you need to.” 

Very slowly, at the pace of a wounded snail, you and Mapi moved down the wall. You didn’t stop talking the whole time, forgetting, honestly, that Ingrid was in your pocket. 

She was sitting in the hallway, all the way in Norway, wondering what she did to deserve such a sweet sister, who cared so deeply for the people around her. Who adjusted to her girlfriend without a second thought. Who was sensitive and loving, even if you pretended not to be. 

When Mapi got down the wall, she was still shaking too badly to undo the harness. You handed her your phone, un attaching her from the wall, as she spoke quietly to your sister. When she was free, and you were free, you shoved your face next to hers, greeting Ingrid again. 

If Mapi was worried you’d make fun of her, she didn't have to be. 

You just smiled at her. “Ice cream?” You asked hopefully. Mapi and Ingrid felt their lips both tug up into smiles, matching smiles. 

“Definitely.” Mapi agreed. 

The day had been a bonding experience. Just in a very different way than Mapi had anticipated. 

------

You enjoyed spending time with Mapi, you really did. But you were also a person that needed a lot of time to yourself. Maybe it was a consequence of having no one around who paid much attention to you growing up, or maybe it was just how you were wired. Either way, after almost 2 weeks of spending every minute with your sister’s girlfriend, you needed a break. 

Some silence, and a break. 

Which is how you found yourself on a long hike, two days before Ingrid was due home. You’d gone yourself, without Scout, which wasn’t a common occurrence, but you wanted to be gone for a while. Just you and nature and nothing but your thoughts to echo around your head. 

When you got to a fork in the path, you stopped to consider. The right path would lead you back down, and you’d be home within the hour. The left path would lead you through a tricky boulder section of the hike, and you’d be gone another 2 hours. 

Your only hesitation with the left path was that Ingrid had very specifically told you not to take it alone. You’d talked to her before you’d left, and she’d warned you that the boulders were really tricky, and you shouldn’t do it by yourself. She promised to go with you when she got back, if you promised not to do it today. 

Mapi would never know, though. You’d just tell her you stopped at the top to enjoy the views for a bit, before you headed down. And if Mapi didn’t know, Ingrid wouldn’t know. And you really, really, just wanted some more time to yourself. 

So you set off to the left, ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut that you were making a mistake. 

------

You didn’t remember it hurting this bad, having a broken bone. It was definitely broken, though. You’d heard it go, even as your body hit the ground with a loud thump. 

The boulders had been tricky. So incredibly tricky. They were slightly loose and wobbly, and there were big gaps in between where you could easily fall. You had to get up and over a pile of rocks to keep moving, and you were tired. There were only a few more, by your estimations, and you were so relieved to almost be done that you were a bit more careless on the last few. 

It was the final obstacle that you fell from. You lost your footing towards the end of the boulder pile, rolling and tumbling down the last boulder, and onto the dirt path. You threw your arm out to catch yourself, and that was all it took. 

Sitting for a moment, you assessed your hand. It was broken. You knew instantly. You’d felt this before, you knew what it was. You felt strangely calm after making that assessment, carefully testing all of your fingers, and trying to move your wrist. 

Ouch. No, it was definitely broken. You had a couple options. You could call Mapi to come get you. She’d freak out and call your sister, who would be furious that you’d done exactly what she warned you not to. Or, you could finish the hike and get home. Pretend you were tired from your hike, or sick or something, and sneak away into your bedroom. Sleep it off. 

Logically, you knew the second option was bullshit. You couldn’t hide a broken arm forever. The thought of going to the doctor, though, was not something you would even consider. You only had one choice. 

You rose to your feet, the movement jostling your arm just enough to make your stomach turn. You bent over, throwing up onto the path. Straightening up again, you set off down the path, arm cradled close to your body. You could do this. You were strong and independent and you didn’t need anyones help. 

------

You felt like the universe was on your side, with the way things were going. Aside from the broken arm, of course. You were able to slip past Mapi, telling her a small lie that you’d grabbed food on the way home and weren’t feeling well, before you made it to your room. She popped her head in to say goodnight, and if she thought your behavior was weird, she didn’t say anything. 

You waited until she was in bed to shower, knowing she’d be up early for training the next day. You weren’t quite sure what your plan was past that, but you were taking this step by step. 

If Mapi didn’t know, she wouldn’t make you go to the doctor. She wouldn’t tell Ingrid. And Ingrid wouldn’t be mad. 

It was very poor logic, but logic nonetheless. 

You probably could have kept it up for longer, too, if your damn dog wasn’t so intelligent. 

------

Scout wasn’t sure what a broken bone was. Nor was he sure what was wrong with you. But you were hurting, had cried yourself to sleep the night before, and no one was doing anything. The helpful tall one was gone, leaving him with only the annoying and loud short one. Scout didn't think she was very smart, but he’d try to get the message across that someone should probably do something about you, his favorite person on planet earth. 

He followed her around when she arrived home from training. She ignored him. 

When she sat on the couch and turned the TV on, he stood right next to her, staring daggers at her face. She ignored him. 

It wasn’t until he started to whine loudly, and paw at her hand that she got fed up and finally looked at him. 

“Scout, chico, I am begging you to leave me alone.” Mapi sighed. The dog just looked at her, taking a tiny step closer to the Spaniard and letting out a quiet whine. “I swear to god.” 

She stood from the couch, heading for your room. If Scout would listen to anyone, it would be you. And she assumed that he was just pouting because you had shut your door, not allowing him inside. Now that Mapi thought about it, though, she realized she hadn’t seen you at all today, though she had exchanged texts with you while she was at training. Upon arriving at your door she raised her hand to knock, but before her hand could make contact with the wood, she heard a quiet, pained yelp come from the room. 

Mapi frowned. “Nena?” She called, knocking on the door before trying to knob. 

It was locked. 

You never locked your door. 

Mapi paused for a moment, looking down at Scout next to her, who was panting and staring up at her. See, his eyes seemed to say. I told you something was wrong. 

“Solstråle? Can I come in?” 

Inside, you had clapped your good hand over your mouth, realizing that Mapi had heard the sound you’d made. You’d been trying to pull a sweatshirt on to hide the awful sight of your arm, but even the soft brush of the fabric against your arm was horribly painful. 

Fuck. Fuck. Mapi wasn’t going to go away, not without seeing you. You struggled with the sweatshirt further before responding, but you were unable to muffle a cry of pain when your forearm twisted slightly. 

You shut your eyes, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Mapi.” You replied, though you knew very well that it would not be enough for the Spaniard. 

“You don’t sound fine.” Mapi said, twisting the knob again, as if it would have magically unlocked itself in the last few seconds. 

“I am. All good.” You said back, fighting against the urge to open the door and collapse into her arms; your arm was on fire, the pain so bad that you were barely keeping yourself from openly sobbing. 

On the other side of the door, Mapi shook her head, growing more and more panicked. You didn’t sound right, not at all. Scout next to her had begun to pace, and she was trying to figure out if she could break the door down before she spoke again. 

“Open the door, nena. I am not asking. I need to see that you’re safe.” Mapi said firmly, closing her eyes and praying to god that you were okay. 

You had no choice. You stepped forward, unlocking the door, and Mapi’s eyes fell to you, cradling your arm close to your chest. You arm that looked wrong. It was bent at a slightly awkward angle, turning an ugly shade of purple, and it was twice the size of how it normally was.

“Jesus.” Mapi sighed, stepping closer to you, she missed the pure panic that flashed across your face, but she saw you flinch violently away from her, backing up until you were on the opposite side of the room. There were tears in your eyes, and Mapi froze, raising her hands in the air.

“Sol,” Mapi began, her heart shattering when you shook your head rapidly, wordlessly begging for something, although Mapi wasn’t quite sure what. “It’s just me, Sol. I won’t touch your arm. I just want to look at it, okay? I promise, I will not touch you.” 

You blinked at her for a minute, before nodding slowly. You moved over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge, sitting rather stiffly. It was a testament to the trust you had in the Spaniard that you held your arm out for her to see, a quiet sob falling from your lips. 

Mapi moved closer slowly, like you were a wild animal she didn’t want to scare off, until she was standing right in front of you. She kept her hands behind her back, simply looking at your arm. It was broken. Mapi wasn’t a doctor, but this wasn’t a difficult determination to make. A broken arm is pretty obvious. 

“What happened?” 

“I fell.” 

“How did you fall?” 

“I was hiking along those rocks that Ingrid told me not to climb on and I lost my balance and fell on my arm.”

“This was yesterday?” Mapi breathed, sick to her stomach at the thought that you’d been hiding this from her for so long. That you’d been hiding it at all, but that you’d gone to sleep with an untreated broken bone, that she’d left you alone while she went to training, while you had a broken bone. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, cariño.” She sighed. “You must be in so much pain.” She studied you closely, and she decided that now was not the time to have a conversation about hiding things from her. “Nena, do you want a hug?” 

Now that she knew, it was even harder to pretend that you were fine. She was right. You had been in a lot of pain. You were acutely aware of that pain, now, and how desperately you wanted someone to take charge of the situation and make everything okay. 

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in her direction. Mapi very carefully wrapped her arms around you, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. You trembled against her, and Mapi thought at that moment that she would break her own arm if it meant you weren’t in pain. 

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute before she very regretfully pulled back, putting her hands on her shoulders and studying you. “Okay. Okay. Here is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, we are going to have a talk about hiding injuries from us. Because Sol, this is so dangerous. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, and you can explain later, but right now we need to go see a doctor.” 

“No.” You said simply, your face hardening as you looked up at the Spaniard. And it wasn’t that Mapi hadn’t expected some resistance; she knew that you had an issue with doctors. It was the decisiveness with which you spoke, and the barely masked fright on your face. 

“Solstråle, we need to get that x-rayed.” 

“No. It’s fine, Mapi.”

“It isn’t fine! It looks broken, nena, we need to get it looked at.” 

“No. No doctors, no hospital, no x-ray.” 

“Solstråle, I will call your sister if I need to. We are going to the doctor.” 

A look of betrayal flashed across our face, and you held your arm tighter to your body in a protective manner. “Please don’t make me.” You whispered. 

Harsh wasn’t working. Demanding wasn’t working. Mapi knew she couldn’t force you. She just had to convince you. She stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You are scared, that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time, though, nena. Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking a bit, looking up at Mapi with wide, wet eyes. 

“I promise you, I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

You considered for a moment. You knew, realistically, that you had to go in. And you also knew that Ingrid was probably going to be furious with you. You craved comfort from your sister, though, you needed to hear her voice, telling you that you were safe. Ingrid knew a bit more than Mapi did about your issue with doctors, even though she didn’t have the full story. Ingrid was safe, and so was Mapi, but you really just wanted your sister. 

“Can I call Ingrid on the way there?”

And even though Mapi winced internally at mere thought of how upset this would make her girlfriend, she nodded. “Of course you can. Come on, let’s go.” 

The care with which Mapi helped you down the stairs brought tears to your eyes. She put your shoes on for you, double knotting the laces like you always did, before she paused, crouched in front of where you sat on the bench by the front door. 

“I promise you, Sol. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? I’ve got you, kid.” She said, watching as you blinked hard, clenching your jaw and nodding. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Mapi helped you up, then, and you both exited the house. 

Mapi dialed the phone in the car, connecting it to the speaker. Ingrid picked up on the first ring, almost like she knew something was wrong. “Hi mi amor,” she greeted warmly. 

“Hola. We’re in the car, Sol is with me.” 

“Hi solstråle,” Ingrid said.

“Hi,” you replied, not uttering another word. 

“Tell her what happened, mi sol.” Mapi encouraged

“Tell me what? What happened?” Ingrid asked, her tone much more concerned and serious. 

“I hurt my arm. We’re going to the doctor.” You mumbled. Ingrid sighed, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t the worst of what you had to tell her, that it was going to get worse. 

“How? What’s wrong with it?”

“I was hiking and I fell. Mapi thinks it’s broken.” 

“Broken…climbing… on the trail I told you to be careful on- wait, Sol that was yesterday. This happened yesterday!?” Ingrid shouted. “Why are you just taking her now, María?”

Mapi winced. “I didn’t know until now.” 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL MAPI UNTIL NOW?” Ingrid yelled, so loudly that the speakers crackled slightly. 

Mapi glanced over at you to see that there were tears pouring down your cheeks, and your bottom lip captured in between your teeth, as you tried valiantly not to cry. Shit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Relax, let’s all just take a breath.” She soothed, turning to pull over on a side street. 

“María, I will not relax, this is not oka-”

“Ingrid, stop.” Mapi said firmly, her voice more stern than you’d ever heard it. Ingrid fell silent. “Sol, breathe. Ingrid isn’t mad, she’s just worried. We are okay, everything is okay.”

You nodded frantically, trying to get a handle on your emotions, which were, frankly, overwhelming at the moment. “Sorry, I’m sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed. 

Ingrid felt her heart shatter. She hadn’t meant to shout. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, honey.” 

“I just- the last time I hurt my arm mom didn’t believe me and you told me to be careful and I didn’t want you to be mad, and I didn’t know if you’d think I was lying, and I don’t want to go to the doctor, Ingrid, but Mapi is taking me and she says I have to, and-” you cut yourself off with another loud sob, before arms were reaching over the center console and wrapping around you. 

“Shh, nena, it’s okay. You are safe, you are loved. You are okay.” Mapi whispered, loud enough that Ingrid could hear it over the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, for a combination of reasons. Mostly, though, because her girlfriend was being so absurdly sweet and patient with you. Not that María would ever be anything different, but Ingrid would never stop appreciating it.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, you leaned back away from Mapi, looking at her desperately. “María I really don’t want to go to the doctor, please don’t make me,” you begged. Even as everything in Mapi wanted to give in and take you home where you felt safe, her eyes flickered down to your arm, which was black and blue and swollen, and she knew that wasn’t an option. Before she could speak, though, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Solstråle, switch the phone to a video call and let me see your arm.” 

You did as she asked, fighting back another wave of tears when Ingrid’s face popped up on the screen, looking sympathetically at you. You held up your arm, holding back a groan of pain as you did so, not happy when Ingrid frowned at the sight. 

“Sweetheart,” 

“No,” you cried, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. This was absurd. Your arm was clearly broken, you were 18 years old, and you were afraid of the doctor. Like a child. It was humiliating and you wanted nothing more than to pretend that this was fine, that you were fine going to get a few x-rays and a cast, but the feelings of anxiety and panic were only rising in you again, and your whole body shook at the thought of letting a doctor anywhere near your arm.

“I know, I know,” Ingrid whispered, sounding like she really did know. While your parents had always dismissed your fear of doctors as you being dramatic, ingrid had always been able to tell that you were completely and utterly terrified of going in for a check up, or going into the hospital. The pure horror in your eyes whenever you had to do so was proof enough, but she’d had to take you once, just to get your flu shot, and you’d silently cried the entire way to the office, thrown up in the bathroom upon arriving, and almost broke her hand with your strong grip while the shot was being administered. 

You hadn’t always been like this, though. It had started when you were 10, and Ingrid had never known the reason. You’d never told her, and your parents hadn’t either. 

“You’re scared, yes? Can you tell me what is making you so afraid?” Ingrid asked gently. 

You took a few shuddering breaths before hesitantly looking at her on the screen. “When I broke my arm? They had to reset it because mom waited to take me to the doctor and the bones were in the wrong spot. 

They told me they were going to put some ice on it and a bandage and then the nurses were holding me down and the doctor was forcing the bones back into place.”

You took a minute, trying to stop the incessant shakes that were running through your body at the memory. You jumped slightly when Mapi’s hand found your uninjured one, but you grabbed on tight, closing your eyes to finish your explanation. 

“I cried and I screamed and mom told me to stop being dramatic, and that I was embarrassing her in front of all the doctors. They made her leave the room then, and it was just me and the doctor and the nurses. The bones didn’t go back right on the first try, and they had to do it two more times before it worked. Mom only came in when they were done and they were putting the cast on. I asked her if I could call you, and she said no, because you were too busy for me.”

It all made sense, now. Ingrid remembered coming back from international duty after you’d broken your arm. You’d seemed so depressed and withdrawn, and she’d assumed you were upset about the injury. Never could she have imagined what had gone on while she was gone.  

“That is awful, nena. You did not deserve that, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” Mapi began, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I understand why you’re scared. I promise you, though, I won’t let anyone touch you until you say it’s okay. They’ll tell you what they’re going to do before they do it, and I’ll be with you the whole time.” 

Your sister could tell that you were slightly more convinced, now. You really trusted Mapi. She’d never given you a reason not to trust her. 

“Solstråle, you really need to get it looked at. I’m sorry I’m not there, I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time, but Mapi is going to take really good care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, another tear sliding down your cheek. Even as you did so, though, even as you gave Mapi permission to start the car and resume the drive to the hospital, you weren’t sure you could do this. You understood the importance of getting your arm taken care of, and you’d try. Whether you’d get through this hospital trip, though, was a different story.

--------

Mapi was relatively sure she was going to need an x-ray herself; you were holding her hand so tightly, your knuckles were white. You were shaking in the hospital bed, a vacant expression on your face. 

You’d been sort of… despondent since returning from your x-ray. The doctors had insisted you go alone, and after some convincing, you’d agreed. When they walked you back into the room where Mapi was waiting, though, it was clear you were in another place. All she could do was wait for you to come back a bit. 

 “Mapi?” You said quietly, getting the attention of the Spaniard, who had been looking down at her phone, texting your sister.

“Sí nena?” Mapi replied, very gently squeezing your hand. You looked at her, then, making eye contact for the first time since returning from x-rays, and Mapi winced at the terror in your eyes. 

“I don’t feel safe.” You whispered, unsure of what else you could do or say. You needed help, your fear was rapidly becoming overwhelming, especially because you knew that any minute, the doctor would be returning. 

Mapi nodded sympathetically, reaching out with her free hand to push some hair off your forehead. She knew that physical touch was often the only thing that could comfort you when you were feeling anxious. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more safe?” 

“Promise you won’t leave? You won’t let them hurt me?” 

“I will stay right here with you the whole time. And I will never let anyone hurt you.” Mapi looked at you with such conviction, spoke with such confidence and finality, you had no choice but to believe her. 

“I want to go home.” You whimpered, your voice cracking. 

“Soon, mi sol. Soon.” 

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor returned. She was a kind woman, gentle and cautious. She had some  understanding that you were afraid, and she’s respected that. She told you everything she was going to do before she did it, and she hadn’t once made you feel ridiculous for how you were acting. 

“Alrighty. Got your x rays here. We’re looking at a bilateral forearm fracture, which means both the radius and the ulna are broken. The fractured are clean across, nothing is displaced which is good news for you; that means we can put the cast on, and nothing has to get put back into place.” 

Mapi watched as your body practically deflated next to her, a long sigh of relief escaping your lips. 

The doctor continued. “I am curious, though. Have you broken this arm before?”

You stiffened slightly, and Mapi shifted next to you, moving closer unconsciously in a protective manner. 

“Yeah, when I was 10.” 

The doctor nodded. “I can see it on the x-ray, there’s a line here, where it didn't heal exactly right. That white dot? You’ve developed a bit of a bone spur there where the bones weren’t properly aligned the first time. Does it give you pain?” 

You shrugged. The relief was gone from your face, and you only looked defensive now. “Sometimes.” 

Mapi guessed that sometimes meant often, and she wondered if you ever would have told her and Ingrid that you were having issues with your arm, if this hadn’t occurred. 

“Well, the good news is your bones are not at risk for healing in the wrong spot, so you should avoid a repeat of the first injury complications. There are options, though, if that bone spur continues to give you issues. Physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery are all on the table.”

You nodded, jaw clenched tightly shut. Mapi could tell this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, and she figured you’d been pushed far enough today. 

“Thank you, very much. What is the recovery time like?” She said, effectively drawing the attention away from you as the conversation turned to casts and braces and slings. 

You might as well have been in another room, for all you heard. You didn’t need to get the bones reset. Just a cast. You could handle that. 

Or, you thought you could. It was much more stress-inducing than you expected, when the doctor came in with the items to make the cast, and reached for your arm. You flinched away from her violently, looking helplessly at Mapi. You were thinking about how she said she wouldn’t let anyone touch you if you didn’t want them to, and Mapi knew that. 

“Can you give her a second, please?” Mapi said, not taking her eyes off of you as she slid into the hospital bed you were sitting upright in. 

The doctor nodded, for her part lacking understanding, but not needing an explanation to respect that you were clearly terrified. 

“Sol, breathe. It’s just the cast. They’re gonna put it on, they aren’t going to mess with your arm. You can do this, I know you can.” Mapi encouraged, more than a little surprised when you took a deep breath, nodded, and held your arm out to the doctor.You turned your head away, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder, gripping onto her shirt with your good hand. 

You were putting all of your trust in Mapi in that moment, to ensure that the doctor was gentle and didn’t do anything she hadn’t said she would. This wasn’t lost on the Spaniard, and she watched closely as they wrapped your arm, and began applying the plaster. 

She could feel your tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, though you were completely silent as you cried. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Mapi cursed your mother with everything in her. The woman had given her Ingrid, and you by extension, but she had inflicted so much pain on you in your short life. Mapi ached for the day where these scars weren’t painfully obvious, for the day you could go to the doctor without fear, ask for a hug when you needed one, cry openly when you were hurting, believe with all your heart that you were loved. 

She held tight to you, watching as the doctor put the finishing touches on your cast. 

“I’ve got you, nena.” She whispered. “Almost done.” 

You were too good to have experienced everything that you had. She just wanted you to be happy. 

When you pulled away from her to inspect your arm, she could still see such apprehension written clearly across your face. She wondered how long it would take for it to fully leave. Or if it ever would. Some scars never faded. 

You gave her a watery smile, though, nodding towards the blue of your cast. “Couldn’t get it blaugrana but this is good too, right?” You joked. 

Mapi returned your smile, feeling a very familiar spark of hope inside of her chest. Of course you would be okay. Of course you would. You were one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew. 

“Very good. I am going to draw something so inappropriate on there before your sister gets home.” 

You laughed, and Mapi laughed, both of you felt a bit like everything would be okay. Even if Ingrid scribbled over whatever Mapi drew on your cast. 

-------

You sat blankly on the couch upon arriving home, staring at the cast your hand was wrapped in. You weren’t really sure what to do now, and it didn’t seem like Mapi knew, either. She took a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. 

“Talk to me, nena.” She encouraged.

“I just don’t feel good. I’m really tired.” You told her. 

“It’s been a long day, your body is coming down from a lot of stress and anxiety. You’re okay, now, so let’s just lay on the couch and relax, sí?”

You agreed, shifting to move into your spot in the corner of the sectional, before you paused. “Can you stay with me?” You asked. 

Mapi smiled at you. “Of course I can. Even if it means your damn dog is going to come lay on my legs and get fur all over my pants.” 

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, but you couldn’t give much of an argument because Scout jumped up on the couch right after, flopping down on your legs, making sure to stretch a leg out to rest on Mapi’s legs, too. 

You dozed off relatively easily, clearly drained from a very emotionally and physically exhausting day, and Mapi took the opportunity to call her girlfriend, who she had been updating over text frequently, but who would still be, no doubt, beside herself with worry. 

When Ingrid answered the phone, and only Mapi’s face appeared in view of the camera, Ingrid half convinced herself that you’d locked yourself in a room somewhere and were refusing to come out. Mapi shifted the camera, though, showing you absolutely passed out on the couch, your uninjured hand holding onto her arm, something you’d done completely in your sleep. 

“Hey.” Mapi greeted. She didn’t worry about the volume of her voice; you could sleep through anything. 

“Hi.” Ingrid said, feeling ridiculously emotional at the sight of her two favorite people together. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah. It was really hard for her, I’ve never seen her that anxious. They just put a cast on, though, and she’s relaxed enough now to rest. She was so exhausted, Ingrid, I’d be surprised if she slept at all last night.” Mapi paused as Ingrid hummed. The Norwegian could tell her girlfriend was upset, just from the way her mouth was set stiffly, and the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“How are you doing my love? That must have been really hard to see.” She commented, studying Mapi’s expression closely. 

The Spaniard just shrugged, though. “I am sorry this happened, I know how worried you must have been being so far away.” 

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t do that, don’t try to distract me. I want to know how you are doing.” 

Mapi nibbled on her lip for a moment, her eyes everywhere but on the phone in front of her. “I am so sorry Ingrid.” She said finally, the phone dropping into her lap as she wiped impatiently at her eyes. Ingrid had to be furious with her. Had to be. This was all Mapi’s fault, after all. 

Of course, Ingrid had never considered blaming Mapi, not for a single minute. “No, baby, this isn’t your fault.” She said, as if she’d read her girlfriends mind. Mapi could only scoff. “I’m serious, María. These things happen, it’s no one's fault.” 

“She didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Mapi whispered. 

Ingrid frowned. “No, she trusts you. It’s complicated with her, when she’s hurt. You heard what she said about when she broke her arm the first time. Her response to being hurt was completely based on that experience, it had nothing to do with you.” 

Everything Ingrid said was so logical, Mapi had a hard time coming up with a counter argument. She wasn’t quite ready to forgive herself, though, so she changed the subject. 

“You come home tomorrow.” She said, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Ingrid let the very obvious subject change go in favor of smiling back at her girlfriend. “I do. I’ve missed you both so much.” 

“I have to make sure to sign Sol’s cast before you get here.” Mapi said thoughtfully.

Ingrid grew pale at the thought. “No, María, whatever you are planning to put on there please, please don’t. Just write your name.” 

“Oh, my name will be on there.” Mapi smirked. 

Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was planning something explicit. “Leave room for me to sign too.” Ingrid said grumpily. 

Mapi almost jumped when you chimed in from next to her, throat slightly scratchy. “Ingrid signs first. Those are the rules.” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes to address your sister when Mapi tilted the phone towards you. 

“Ha!” Ingrid said, looking very pleased with herself.

Mapi wanted to argue, she really did. She knew, though, that Ingrid felt insecure about her relationship with you. You were a bit more open with Mapi, a bit more outwardly trusting. Mapi knew this was just because she normally had a much softer approach, though Ingrid’s tougher one was definitely necessary. She knew, too, that Ingrid worried a lot that you preferred Mapi to your sister. So, she let this one go. 

“Fine. I don’t need to sign it. I’ve already got that number 4 tattooed on you.” 

Ingrid paled. “No. No you didn’t. María Pilar León Cebrian, no you did not.” 

“She did. It’s huge, on my right ass cheek.” Next to you, Mapi stifled her laughter, and you did your best to keep a straight face. 

“You better be kidding. I swear to god if I get off that airplane and you have a four tattooed on your ass I will kill you both right there.” 

“How are you going to check? Are you going to pants me in the airport?” You laughed. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, her teeth clenched. 

“Relaaaax Ingrid. I don’t have any more tattoos,” 

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.” 

“...Yet.” You added, laughing with Mapi when Ingrid brought the phone closer to her face. 

“NO! No, Solstråle, no no no no no.” 

You and Mapi laughed so hard you could barely breathe, hearing Ingrid repeating no over and over. 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed, not really. You were laughing and that was a big change from before. You were on the road to recovery, and you looked adorable all curled up next to Mapi, grinning at your sister through the phone. How could she be upset at your [stupid, idiotic, immature] joke?

Though she really would murder her girlfriend if you had another tattoo when she got home. 

-------

this took me an absolutely absurd amount of time.

hope you enjoy sol <3

ps. please tell me all your sol thoughts comments keep me living and breathing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[deepdarkdelights]

Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Series: Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Vampire Jungkook, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationships, Blood (So much of it), Fear (Copious amounts), Panic/Anxiety Attacks, Mind Games, Tormenting the MCs, Discussions about dead bodies, Jungkook and his unblinking stare, Self Injury (Non Mental Health Related), Forced Feeding, Isolation

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

A/N: I am alive! This was entirely inspired by an ask that was sent to me so the entire reason this exists is because of the wonderful anons who have asked be about what has happened since the end of Predator and who have asked to see what a more lucid Jungkook would look like. I haven't had this much fun writing in such a long time. I'm sorry it's so short, I hope you can forgive me 💜

READ PART I - PREDATOR

_______

It was dark and quiet, the only sound being the steady, slow, drip of water hitting the dusty floorboards and the harsh chatter of your teeth as they clashed together. 

You were freezing, your body trembling despite your best attempts to collect yourself. It was no use, no matter what you did you were never able to warm up anymore. You knew it wasn’t all that cold outside, but that didn’t really matter. Despite the chills that wracked your body there was a fine sheen of sweat that coated your skin.

You were unsure as to how much time had really passed since you had found yourself here. All of the days had begun to blend together like some horrible fever dream you simply couldn’t wake up from. The only constant in your life has become him. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to kill you. 

What was truly likely, was that this was a side effect of his treatment of you. It was very likely that he just didn’t know how to take care of a human. And despite your incessant pleading, he had told you that he would not kill you. So really, it was his own ineptitude that had you knocking on death’s door.

Your skin felt grimey, not entirely from lack of hygiene, but from the film of blood that coated your skin. It was all over you but it mostly dominated your cheeks, lips, throat, chest, and fingers. He was not violent when he claimed his feeds, but he was not necessarily gentle either. You hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time, but you were certain no amount of vampire blood would be able to seal your wounds with how often they were readily reopened.

This wasn’t a life, it was a slow and painful trek to the afterlife.

Your trembling increased as the front porch creaked, he was already back. Your head lolled backwards and hit the wall behind you in defeat. You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t give him another part of yourself - this time you were certain that it would kill you. 

Every time he fed from you, there was a horrible, delightful, exhilarating rush that followed. Whatever it was that he was doing to you, it was forcing you to enjoy the very thing that was killing you. It was perverse. It was disgusting. It was addicting.

It was hard to hate him in the throes of ecstasy, there was this horrible thrill that came the second before his fangs pierced his limb of choice as you knew you would be rewarded with bliss in the moments that followed. It was easier to hate him when he wasn’t there, his lack of presence giving your mind the briefest of reprieves to remind yourself of the horrible situation you were truly in. 

The distance, however, didn’t seem to allow him the same clarity. If anything, it made him grow more needy, more irritated, and more clingy.

The door creaked open, and your time to yourself disappeared. Your body shook tenfold as his presence filled the room. He still looked the same as he did the first time you had come face to face with him. His clothes were worse for wear, even more blood stained and shredded than they had been before. There was a permanent coppery scent that surrounded him, the dried blood being the prime suspect. 

You were certain that you didn’t smell that much better. Although, to a vampire, you probably would smell all that more enticing.

His gaze was immediately drawn to you, your eyes locking with one another, bridging the fifteen foot gap between you. His eyes often fluctuated in vibrancy depending on how hungry he was. The days where they were near black were the most difficult for you, but today they were a bright crimson red. He had fed on someone, someone who luckily wasn’t you.

“Hello little mouse,” He greeted, his voice low and surprisingly soft, devoid of the almost manic tone you had been familiar with for the longest time. 

He began to close the distance between the two of you, his gait smooth as he approached you. The way he moved was unnaturally perfect, the silent power of a predator imbued in every muscle of his body.

He wordlessly dropped a bag in your lap as he sank down to the ground beside you, his wide, red, unblinking eyes staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. No matter how much time you have spent with him, his stare was still unnerving.

It took you longer than it should have to open it, your fingers trembling beyond your control. But Jungkook was patient, he has all of the time in the world to wait.

The scent of food hit your nose, your mouth watering and your stomach growling eagerly in response. From the color of his eyes and what he had brought you, you assumed he had decided to have his fill of a hiker instead of you. 

Jungkook didn’t know how to take care of a human, that much was obvious. He had, however, been keenly aware of how much blood he was draining from your body on a daily basis. You had become so weak, anything but sitting felt like a herculean task nowadays. And the lack of consistent meals was weighing heavy on your body.

You didn’t care that he was watching you eat, your mannerisms ravenous and most likely off putting. But you no longer complained when he took his fill of you, and for some reason he remained silent and returned that courtesy. 

You had noticed a shift in his behavior when that other vampire had found the two of you not that long ago. He knew Jungkook, from the way they spoke it appeared he knew him very well. This other vampire, despite how he appeared more human than Jungkook, frightened you just as much. You could tell from the curl of his smile to his confident gait that he was just as bad, if not worse, as Jungkook.

You had nearly fainted on the spot when he suggested the two of them share you, you were already tapped out as it was, Jungkook had fed on you that morning. The two of them, together, would kill you for sure.

To your surprise, Jungkook had not responded enthusiastically. He responded like an animal defending its territory - baring his fangs and growling in just barely contained rage. And that reaction had set off the other vampire and before you knew it they were a blur of limbs.

They moved so fast your human eyes could barely keep up with them. You were only able to focus when one of them threw the other giving you just enough time to watch them separate before they came back together again. The sound their bodies made when they clashed together was like thunder from what you could only assume was the pure force and strength they possessed. And, much like animals, they ripped and tore into one another with their teeth and nails.

By the time the two of them had finally separated for good, it was because of how much they had injured one another. The both of them were covered in wounds oozing black blood, some of which was their own, and some belonging to the other.

The other vampire, whom you had briefly heard Jungkook address as Hoseok, was tired but still enraged.

“Are you fucking serious? All of this for what, a pathetic little human?!” He yelled, his nostrils flaring in anger. “It’s food, Jungkook! I’m your brother!”

Your body flinched out of habit at the snarl that left Jungkook.

“With the rate that you’re going you’ll kill her anyways! Why does it even matter?!”

“She’s my human,” Jungkook replied, his voice low with warning.

“This isn’t even supposed to be about her! She’s nothing! Namjoon sent me to come and find you but you know what, I think I’ll let you deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for you and when that happens, you're on your own!”

He disappeared quickly after that, it was like he was there one moment and then vanished the next. Once he was gone, Jungkook’s once sturdy stance softened, his shoulders bending forward from the strain of his own weight. He was hurt, badly.

He slowly turned to look at you, the red of his eyes and his dark mop of hair just visible over the curve of his shoulder. You knew that look, it usually didn’t end well for you. 

“No, no, no, Jungkook, please!” You whimpered, scrambling backwards.

But it was no use, he never listened to you anyways. He always took what he wanted, even when you had nothing left to give. 

He stumbled when he moved but he quickly regained his footing, his black blood stained hands grabbing you by the shins and pulling your retreating form towards him. You fought as hard as you could but you were already weak to begin with.

“Stop it, please!” You begged, but he didn’t listen. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip too tight and utterly uncomfortable. 

“Jungkook-”

“Shut up,” He grunted before yanking your head roughly to the side and sinking his teeth back into the scarred skin of your neck. The shriek that left you was borderline inhuman, the building scar tissue made the intrusion all the more painful and Jungkook was not gentle.

And he had already taken so much blood the day before. It wasn’t long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you went limp in his iron hold.

That was the first time that Jungkook had given you vampire blood. You had almost died that day, you had gotten so close to finally being free of him and still he wouldn’t let you go. Even death wasn’t a great enough adversary for him. 

When you had woken up after that attack, shocked that you managed to survive, you were met with those big, red, frightening eyes. The look on his face was the most serious you had ever seen it before, an odd clarity in his eyes that you were seeing for the first time.

He had been dreadfully quiet since then, speaking even less and shorter sentences than he normally did. You wouldn’t say he felt bad for what he did, but he had become increasingly aware of the inherent fragility that came with being human. He never apologized, but he had fed from you a lot less after that.

You froze mid bite as you felt his icy fingers graze your flesh, the coolness biting your skin and seeping into your veins. His touch was feather light, just barely there, but you went still beneath it anyways. You were incredibly aware of the strength that was concealed in that touch. He appeared unbothered by your response, his thumb smoothing over the curve of your jaw as he leaned in unbearably close.

You flinched at the feeling of cold metal being draped around your throat, his fingers clasping the material at the nape of your neck. It was a necklace. Your chest felt tighter, the food in your stomach quickly souring. 

He was doing it again. 

You were well aware of Jungkook’s strange and disturbing habit of taking mementos from his victims. His ears, wrists, neck, and practically every inch of his body were adorned with items he had stolen. You noticed he had an affinity for jewelry, but his jacket and boots had been taken from someone’s corpse as well. And, recently, he started bringing them back for you as well. 

Your bloody fingers were littered with several rings, a bracelet on your right wrist, and your ears decorated in earrings - some of which he had pierced himself. And now, the necklace.

It left your stomach in knots when he did this, you couldn’t help but think about the bodies abandoned in the woods that he had slaughtered every time the metal glinted back at you. Each piece felt like another shackle keeping you at his side. 

The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

And so, you had become his plaything. His dinner and now his doll, a weak body that he could play with and decorate to his greatest desires whether that be with a corpse's jewelry, or a litany of scars.

“Pretty,” He said, his voice deceptively soft as he grazed the skin of your neck, his fingers moving from the clasp of the necklace to trace over the scarred imprints of his fangs and teeth.

You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.

The odd, calm atmosphere between the two of you was quickly dissipating. Jungkook shifted away, agitation clear on his face as an annoyed growl parted his lips. You flinched back against the wall, scooting away to stay out of his path. 

This wasn’t unusual - he had been having rapid mood swings lately.

The few moments of peace the two of you would share were often interrupted by the sudden pained twist of his features - his eyebrows drawing together and his nose scrunching in a snarl. It almost looked like he was in physical pain despite there being no signs of any injury.

And then, the pacing would start. It was like watching a caged lion sweep the perimeter of their enclosure. Back and forth, slow and menacing steps. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to guard the two of you from someone else. You hadn’t dared to ask what he was doing, to be entirely honest you tried your best to avoid initiating any interaction or conversation with him at all. The few times you did speak to him, it was usually to beg for him to leave you alone, pleas that often fell on deaf ears. 

You didn’t know what to do with this. When you first “met” him, he had been sadistic, like a zealous child with more power than they knew what to do with. He had wanted to play his sick and twisted games with you and the plan had always been to gorge himself on your blood and leave your mangled corpse deep in the forest to wither and return to the earth. That was what was familiar to you, that was what you were expecting. 

You were never supposed to live, that had been an unfortunate circumstance, a split decision he made to prolong your torture and pain. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this suddenly quiet, confused, and barely human creature in front of you. One that would rip open your flesh to feed just as soon as he would leave bruising kisses on your lips and throat, painting the flesh a rich red that was left to rust.

You were waiting for him to snap, waiting for it to all finally be over. But that would be luck, luck that you didn’t have. He had promised you, so long ago, that you would never be alone again, that he would keep you. And you have suffered the consequences ever since.

When he said your name you felt your blood freeze over. He had never said your name before, you didn’t even know that he knew it. He had always called you that horrific pet name, his little mouse.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling them into your chest in an attempt to feel some sense of security as he continued to speak. 

“We’re leaving soon.” He said, the words simple but the expression on his face ever so complex. Reluctance, frustration, pain, anxiety.  

You swallowed, but did not move. The silence was deafening. But, by the look on his face, you knew that he was waiting for your response. You would have to break the stalemate. 

“Are you…taking me home?” You dared to ask, your heart thundering in your chest as that predatory gleam returned to those red eyes. 

“No,” He growled, his jaw clenched as his fangs ground against his lower set of teeth, “You’re not going back there, ever.”

Your heart shattered. 

“I’m being called back to my home.”

His home? This was the first that you were hearing of it, you never stopped to ask yourself if he had a home. You couldn’t picture it even if you tried, it was a puzzle piece that simply didn’t fit. You had always assumed he was simply a nomadic creature that moved as he hunted. And, due to his supernatural nature, it seemed that he never needed the typical human necessities and comforts such as four walls and a roof. 

You knew he had some sort of family at the very least. You had, after all, had the displeasure of meeting Hoseok who had referred to himself as his brother. And he had mentioned the name Namjoon, the phrasing suggesting a hierarchical structure. But even the notion that he had a family felt just as mismatched. And how ironic it was that he was returning home to a family he didn’t even want, and he wouldn’t let you go home to the family that you missed so much. 

“And that’s bad?” You hesitantly asked, flinching as he growled in frustration. 

“It’s worse than bad!” He yelled, his hands sliding through his hair in stress, “It was difficult enough fending Hoseok off, but all six of them? You’re as good as dead.”

Hope.

“Then…don’t go?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. By the way he was acting, it was like returning was not a choice. 

“If only it were that easy,” He laughed, the sound bordering on being unhinged. “I can’t ignore it, if I’m called I have to answer. If I don’t it becomes more and more persistent. It feels like a cord that grows tighter and tighter until it pulls and my body moves on its own and takes me back.”

That explained the pacing, the restlessness his body had been experiencing. He had been trying to redirect it by walking the perimeter of the decrepit cottage but it had been a temporary fix to the problem. You could only assume that he was getting to the point now where his body was ready to return against his will. 

How horrible it was, to be someone’s unwilling puppet. You knew that feeling all too well. 

You didn’t know what you were supposed to tell him. There were no choices to be made by the two of you. He would have to return, and he wouldn’t leave you here on your own as he knew you would be given the greatest opportunity you have ever had to leave him. So, he would have to take you with him right into the lion’s den where you would undoubtedly be consumed.

He was mumbling to himself now, his pacing becoming more frantic and much faster, your human eyes struggling to keep track of him. You were sure that he was moving so fast he would wear down the old floorboards beneath him and the soles of his beat up boots.

You could only assume that meant the call was becoming even stronger. Before - it was asking, now it was commanding.

You had never seen him so frantic before, those wide blood red eyes unblinking and shifting back and forth faster and faster as his thoughts raced. It was borderline demonic, like something you would see during a paranormal movie or an exorcism. It was terrifying. 

You began to scoot back as far away as you could until your spine was flush with the wall behind you. You felt better with some part of you concealed from the open, but that did little to calm your racing heart and the creature that raged in front of you.

What was he so afraid of, so panicked by? You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him, not with how terrifying he was on his own. What could be so bad, so scary, that it frightened a monster? You weren't sure you wanted to find out, even if it meant you could finally feel the sweet embrace of death and escape him once and for all. 

Jungkook finally came to a stop, his body still but his eyes continued to move erratically. And then they too settled, and a look of deadly calm settled over them. He had decided something, and you were certain that whatever his decision was it wouldn’t be good for you. 

“They wouldn’t,” You heard him mutter to himself, “Not if I put a fail safe if place.”

A fail safe?

Before you could even blink he had moved across the room, faster than your eyes could track. Your body had been ripped away from the wall and set in between his legs, your spine pressed against his chest, the both of you seated on the ground.

An uncontrollable wail shook your body, the sound emanating a feeling of pure hopelessness. You had been surprised it came out of you, but you knew why. You were terrified he was going to feed from you again. 

His one arm was wrapped around your ribs, his legs tensed and forcing your own to squeeze together. He had immobilized you, there was nowhere else you could go and no way to escape him. 

Your entire body shook and heaved with hysterical breaths as you writhed in his grip. “Please, please don’t do it again I can’t take anymore of this!”

He hushed you, his free hand brushing over your hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It was more like someone who was trying to calm a startled stray animal than anything else. His touch moved to your chin, lightly taking hold of the point where your neck and jaw bone met.

He didn’t say anything, instead he forced you to look at him, turning your face so that he could look directly into your eyes. And then, to your shock and horror, he plunged his fangs into his own wrist and ripped the flesh wide open. A torrent of thick, viscous, black blood rolled down the pale flesh of his forearm. And before you could do or say anything he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head back before pressing his open wound to your mouth. 

You gagged at the smell and taste, tears blurring your vision as you tried to move your head away but he did not budge. His arm around your ribs finally moved but only to help him pry your jaw open and force the blood flow down your throat. He continued to hush you as he forced you to drink, gently rocking your body in stark contrast to the harsh and violent hold he had you in. 

“Just relax,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll keep you here. We need to get as much of my blood as possible into your system.”

You were crying even harder now, the salt of your tears slipping between his wrist and your lips and mingling with his blood in your mouth. What had you ever done to deserve this? What horrible thing had you done in some past life to deserve this kind of punishment?

You just wanted to go home. You wanted your mom and dad, your grandparents, and the gentle comfort of your bed in your childhood room. You wanted that life back, and you were never going to have it again. 

His harsh grip on your jaw loosened as you went limp in his arms, resigning yourself to your inescapable fate. His hand returned to those soothing strokes against your hair, a low hum in his chest vibrating against your back as he watched you feed from him with a curious gaze. You were such a weak little thing, you needed him more than you would ever understand. 

You hiccupped pathetically when he finally removed his wrist from your mouth after what felt like hours. Your lips and chin were stained black from the blood he spilled when you had struggled. He stared at you again, curiosity evident in his gaze, as he leaned forward and licked the flesh of your lips, tasting his own blood.

You shivered as he made a soft hum, cocking his head to the side before doing it once more, stroking over the bitten and chapped skin with his tongue as he transitioned into kissing your battered lips in a grotesque act of intimacy. He laughed against your mouth as you weakly pushed against his chest, he was amused by your pathetic attempts to push him away. It only encouraged him to kiss you harder and deeper, sampling the taste of his own blood straight from your mouth. 

Once he was satisfied he finally allowed you to breathe, a devious gleam in his eyes that you had not seen in a long time. 

“They won’t be able to kill you for a while now, not unless they want another vampire to worry about.” He said. He was gloating, reveling in the win his family had no idea he had already achieved.

Your blood ran cold, your body freezing at his revelation. The very thing you craved, your own death and by association freedom from him, would be the very thing that would trap you with him for the rest of eternity. If you were killed with his blood in your system, you would become one of them. He truly had taken everything from you, even the dignity of your own death. Your life was his and his alone.

He really was a monster.

His features suddenly twisted in pain, his head jerking to the side as he released a low and threatening growl. The call was becoming even stronger, the most intense it had ever been. There was no more delaying it. They had to go, and they had to right now. 

He quickly lifted you into his arms as his body began to move on its own, forcing him to begin to move in the direction of his home. There was nothing more that you could do, all you could do was remain limp in his arms. It was over, there was point in fighting anymore.

He had finally broken you. 

When he stepped outside you were shocked by the fresh air and the cold weather. Then again, you always feel cold now. The clouds were thick today, the sun hidden behind their cover. It had been so long since you were outside, and even longer since you had been in the sun - that wouldn’t change in the near future. But what truly shocked you, was that the world went on without you. The seasons continued to change, the flora continued to flourish and then decay. The cycles continued while you were stored away. How cruel the world was to keep going on as you withered away. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shielding your face from the harsh wind as he began to move faster, running at his impossibly fast pace that no human could ever wish to match. How had so much changed? When did you go from human being to a play thing for a monster like him. You had a life, but now it had become inconsequential, toyed with and thrown away like it never even mattered.

What were you supposed to do now? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. He had won, he had played his sadistic stupid games with you, and he had won. He had broken you. You tucked your chin into your chest and like the pathetic creature that you were you whimpered.

You cared about what was going to happen next. If Jungkook had been wrong, then the two of you walking into the proverbial lion's den would end with you turning into one of them, a fate worse than any other that you could imagine. To be tied to him for all of eternity would be your personal hell on earth. 

What would they do to you when you got there? Would your death before your next life be slow and torturous, or quick and merciful? Would it be planned and intentional, or accidental? 

Jungkook began to slow, his fast pace relaxing into a natural walk. The tension that previously rested in his body had begun to dissipate. You could only speculate this was the relief of obeying the command to return home. His control over his own body was slowly but surely coming back to him the closer the two of you came to his home.

He stopped for a moment, placing you down on your own two feet before he took hold of your wrist and forced you to follow after him. Your knees wobbled beneath your weight, unaccustomed to you standing after being curled up in a ball in that abandoned shack for the longest time. You looked more like a baby fawn learning to walk than you did that meek little mouse Jungkook always thought you were. He, however, paid little attention to you at that moment. He was tense, his body in a state of alert as subtly surveyed the area as you continued on. 

He could sense something that your dull human senses weren’t entirely picking up on. However, the hair on the back of your neck prickled and your gut twisted as you felt phantom eyes digging into your body. 

Someone, somewhere, was watching you. 

A building began to break through the cluster of trees. A modern, contemporary house in the middle of the forest was coming into view. This was the last place you thought of when Jungkook had mentioned his home. In all honesty, you would have been less surprised by a crypt and a row of coffins.

In front of the house, stood a man. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his eyes that familiar shade of deep burgundy, the same shade the monster’s eyes were when he was hungry. This sent chills throughout your body, your entire being sensing the danger in the vampire that stood across from you. 

Those burgundy eyes swept towards you, a look of shock and confusion discoloring their once calm gaze that you speculated was rarely rattled. His features twisted as he took in the state of you, the dried human and vampire blood that coated your body in thick layers, the dirt that was caked into your clothing, your hair that needed to be washed, and the smattering of scars that decorated your body and glistened in the cloudy daylight. 

You were barely human anymore, you were a walking corpse.

“You called me home, Namjoon.” Jungkook simply said, his body moving to shield you from the other vampire's gaze.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said, utter disbelief tinging his words, “What are you doing to her?” 

In every possible scenario you had conjured in your mind, this had not been one of them.

Sympathy.

_______

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

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𖧧Resources on Non-Consent and Fiction𖧧

The nature of women's rape fantasies: an analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents

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