#i think the fact it also has use in the possessive makes it not work so much because there it doesn't make a contraction as much

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 7: Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, touch of breeding kink, possessiveness, briefest mention of a free use kink if you squint, multiple orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, lots of dirty talk, mentions of ownership kink, nipple play, name calling, degradation, praise, sadness, heartbreak, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, drinking, smoking, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

so this is my second time trying to post this (thanks tumblr for deleting it completely 🫶🏻) but I just want to say, thank you to everyone who has been patiently and kindly waiting for this update, and i hope this serves as an apology. my life has kinda blown up in my face as of late and I’ve really been struggling, but im trying very hard to get back to normal. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (Extremely lightly edited)

And a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, listening to my ramblings, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories would not be what it is without you 😌

Also another special shoutout to @jakeyt. I’m eternally grateful for you and everything you do for me, and so so lucky to have you in my life 🤍

Jake’s POV

“You sure this will work?” Josh asked, looking across the cab of your dad’s car, one eyebrow raised as he awaited your answer. Swallowing back a permanent lump in your throat, the stark dryness of your tongue seemed to make your nervousness grow even stronger. The claminess of your palms and the steady thud of your heart against your chest made it seem all the more real, and as you digested his question you began to wonder that yourself.

“P-positive.” You felt the word get caught in your teeth, like even the syllables were trying their best to mock you. The whole world felt like that, making you second guess every single thought and action, like nothing was good enough. Before you stepped foot outside, before you climbed into the passenger seat with your heart in your hands and every ounce of love scrawled across your tired face, you were certain. Now, as the wheels whirred on the pavement below and the trees passed you by, you could not say that for fact. “It has to work.” You rephrased your words, feeling a bit more confident as those ones slipped past your lips.

“Okay.” Was all he said, his index finger drumming against the steering wheel. For some reason, that did not bode well with you, making the knots in your stomach tighten to the point of fraying.

“Okay?” At that, he let out a chuckle, his lips stuck in an irritating smile as he gave one singular nod of his head.

“If you’re sure, then so am I.” He reiterated his stance, peeking at you from the very corner of his eye.

“Okay, well—“ you huffed a breath, feeling a slight twang in your chest as you tried to agree with him. Suddenly, you couldn’t keep up the facade anymore, feeling the fears tumble out faster than you could stop them. “What if I’m not sure?” The pitch of your voice, high and airy, seemed to send another laugh shaking his shoulders.

“And why wouldn’t you be sure, Jake?” Josh and his aggravatingly accurate intuition, always knowing when something was wrong and knowing exactly how to pry it out of you.

“I hate you, you know.” You grumbled, your lips dipping down into a frown as you swiped your palms over your jeans. “How did you know?”

“Jesus, brother, I can feel the anxiety all the way over here. You’re not as mysterious as you think—least not to me, anyway.” He said, turning the radio down ever so slightly. “What’s got you second guessing yourself?”

“I just—fuck.” You sighed, your head falling back on the seat as you sucked a sharp breath into your lungs. “It has to work, Josh. It has to. I can’t—I won’t go back to Nashville if she… if we—“

“Alright,” he nodded, cutting off your nervous rambling so you need not suffer any more. He got it, and he didn’t need you to explain it now that he knew for sure that’s what it was about. “Well, it certainly won’t be good for you if you show up at her front door looking like that. Nervous, stuttering, sweating mess.”

“Hey,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed at his blunt words. He flashed you a soft smile, letting you know it was only a joke.

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He motioned towards you, your entire aura affecting him directly, like he could feel your racing heart and hear your inner voice. “Freak yourself out, panic, like you don’t know her better than anyone in the whole world—aside from me.” He added quickly, making sure that he was involved in the equation. “You know she’ll love it Jake, ‘cause she loves you. Even after everything, that’s still true and you know that.”

“But is it enough?” That question posed a long bout of silence between the two of you. Josh lessened the pressure of his foot on the gas pedal, slowing the car without hitting the brakes. He knew he needed more time to formulate a good answer to your question, but even as the car crawled across the main road of the suburb, he wasn’t sure any response would truly suffice.

“You never know unless you try.” He offered, knowing it did not ease any fear but hesitant about giving you false hope. You gave a solemn nod, understanding that was all he could say. “I mean, Jake, come on. This is sunshine we’re talking about. Just tell her the stuff you need to get off your chest… don’t leave anything unsaid this time. She wants this too, but she’s scared. Help her see it in a different way. She got a job, and that was her biggest concern, wasn’t it?”

“She did.” You hummed, the dryness of your mouth worsening as you saw her house appear in the distance. “I mean, all of this had to happen for a reason, right? It has to mean something more than closure, or moving on, or whatever the fuck…” you rambled, sickened at the idea of the biggest chapter of your life coming to an end. Actually, you weren’t even sure you could survive it.

“I think,” he flicked on the turn signal, slowing so he could pull into her driveway. You tried to ignore the anxious buzz in your ears, your thoughts spiraling and causing you to do the same. “That what the two of you have is a once in a lifetime experience. For that reason alone, I believe that there’s more to this story.”

For once, his ambiguity made you feel better instead of worse, because you agreed with the sentiment. For how strongly both of you felt, it couldn’t just end. There had to be something more for the two of you, together.

Only once the car was parked did he speak again, this time a bit more direct with his words.

“Do you want me to wait here?”

“No.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “I’m gonna see this one through.” You continued, knowing in your heart that you did not need a fallback. Even if things did not work in your favor, you wouldn’t be sent away. Not now, not ever. She, no matter what the two of you were, would always accept you with open arms and love you accordingly. This house, her house, would always be home, whether you were a lover, a friend, or even a stranger who knew much more than he should. So long as she lived, you knew you would have a place beside her, even if it was not what you wanted it to be. “I’m gonna get her back, Josh.”

At that, a knowing grin crossed his lips.

That was what he was waiting for.

For you to breathe in the confidence he was pushing in your direction, to listen to the tellings of your heart rather than your head, to understand that you could not let her go again, that you could not accept self destruction and misery when the resolution was within reach.

“You’re gonna get her back, Jake.” He reiterated your point, making sure you knew he felt the same way. “Now go. Don’t wait any longer.” He ushered you out of the car, his toothy smile making you feel like the world was right again.

Looking at him now, about to accomplish your life’s purpose, you finally understood that the reason you put so much faith in Josh boiled down to one, very simple fact: the world had been burning, six whole years spent in the barren pits of hell without a breath of relief in sight, and not for one single second did he ever think of leaving your side. At your lowest of lows, feeling the heartbreak with you and suffering alongside you, he never felt an inkling to ignore it or to give up on you. He tackled every one of your tears and self-doubts with determination, making sure you knew that being alone wasn’t even an option and that all of your fears were misguided. He listened to the same rants and complaints a million times over and never found himself sick of it. Right now, after knowing all of the suffrage and the role he had within it, he was sending you straight into her arms even knowing what the outcome might be and how it would affect him.

He wanted you to be happy, and he would stop at nothing to see it.

The whole world had been burning until that fateful day in Italy, and he held your hand the entire time, opting to burn with you instead of watching you burn alone. Relief did not only touch you when you received that message, but him too.

If Josh, out of everyone in the entire world, believed that the two of you should be together, you owed it to him to try, to show him that his efforts have never gone unnoticed or unappreciated even if by times it seemed so.

“I love you.” You said, fingers clasped around the door handle as you prepared to step outside. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” He replied, his eyes scanning the car to make sure you had everything you needed, always taking care of you without even realizing he was doing it. “I’ll see you at home.” You gave one curt nod, reiterating the statement wordlessly. “You’ve got this, Jake. You’ve been waiting for this for years. We’ve been waiting for this.”

That seemed to be all you needed, and with a smile on your face, you finally stepped out into the warm summer air, a rush of confidence fuelling you as you gave him one last look over your shoulder. Swallowing your fears (and your pride, as it seemed), you straightened the hem of your shirt against your chest, making sure the collar was flipped the right way before advancing any further. Running one hand through your hair, you took the first step towards the front porch, fully expecting lead to weigh you down yet pleasantly surprised at the airiness of your limbs.

This was the right thing to do.

You were making the right decision.

Of course you were; there was no other choice. At the end of the line, she was the only thing that mattered.

Feeling both of your feet firmly stand on the first rickety wooden step, you thought the anxiety might return, but the closer you got to the door, the better you felt. The closer to her, the brighter it seemed.

Your malaise had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with missing her. Knowing that she was nearby, that you would be able to see the sweet smile and the sparkling eyes that turned your entire world upside down, was enough to make any bad feelings or negative thoughts flee you completely. She was home to you, and no matter how much time or hurt stood between you, that would never change.

With each creaking stair, you felt the nervous energy quickly turn to excitement, and as you raised your hand to knock on her front door, it felt like the sun began to shine down upon your face, warming your soul in the sweetest and most precious way.

But, the sun had always been shining, especially on the particularly warm summer day, even if it would soon set in the sky. Not a cloud in sight to cover it, and not even a flicker in its intensity.

As you knocked a second time, you could feel the light flood your veins, bright white and searing hot, begging to burst straight from your skin and bleed you dry.

This light, this warmth, never had a thing to do with the burnt up old star in the sky, and you believed that more than ever, especially when the door swung open and you were graced with the sight of her beautiful, breathtaking face.

Her POV

“Ozz, please.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration, grumbling and groaning as the cat puttered in front of your feet and tripped you for the second time since you stood. Although, you couldn’t be too upset at him, considering he was the only reason you knew there was someone at the front door. If not for his chirping and flattened ears, you would have disregarded the knock completely, bundled up on the couch as you watched reruns of your favorite television show. Feeling guilty for scolding him in such a tone, you gave a sad smile and reached down, scooping him straight into your arms as you carried him to the door.

Seemingly content with the new position, he melted into your chest as you kicked aside shoes lingering by the front door. You had gotten back from your faculty meeting a few hours prior, finding yourself excited and counting down the minutes until Monday morning, finally feeling right and ready to start your life. Tired from your first early morning in a long time (and from the long drive to and from), you started apartment hunting as soon as you got home, unwilling to make the hour trek both ways for any longer than necessary. Mel, who had scored an interview at an elementary school not far from the university, decided to take the afternoon and explore the town after a promising afternoon.

Knowing she wouldn’t be back until late (if at all, knowing her and her inkling to make friends or lovers anywhere), you ordered takeout to be delivered at your door and prepared for an evening to yourself. Your mother and your little sister had left shortly after you got home, giving you the rundown on their plans while you only half listened. When your father left, your mother had taken it upon herself to ensure that once a month, she would spend an entire evening with each of you on your lonesome, and at least one night with all three of you, doing something fun and carefree. It was her way of ensuring you two always knew how much she loved you, and that no matter how life was, she would always make time for you. Sometimes, it was just a movie, or ice cream, but other times, when money wasn’t as tight, it was a spa day or a day trip to the mall.

In the very beginning, you didn’t know it, but it was a way to distract her and the two of you from the emptiness of the home. It gave all of you something to look forward to, and it reminded you and your sister of all the love that continued to surround you.

Back then, you loved it. Now, you had a whole new appreciation for it knowing the truth behind it.

Once you went to university, obviously it became a little harder to maintain, so when you were home, she jumped at the chance to have that time with you again. It was different, but still just as important, and even more beautiful to see the tradition carry on.

So with the house all to yourself for the first time in a long time, you were soaking up the vacant space and lack of noise, enjoying as much of it as you could before the (welcome) chaos made a return.

Until the knock on the door, which left you where you were now: a cat clutched tightly to your chest, the evening sun shining through the blinds on the door before it sank in the sky, and a growing curiosity about who could be on the other side.

When you twisted the knob, the brightness from outside immediately took you by surprise. Once your eyes focused on the body before you, an ethereal light behind him framing him as even more angelic as usual, your heart sped and your stomach churned. It was not his presence that caused such a sudden reaction, even though he usually had such effects on you, but rather the items in his hand, held closely to his chest. Sunglasses sat low on his nose, his long brown hair honey-like as the sun illuminated it. His warm chestnut eyes spoke straight to your soul without him needing to say a word, and his half-smile sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice, smooth like silk with a slight rasp of smoke, felt like a punch’s straight to the stomach.

The last time you had seen him, emotion hung heavy over your heads and your hearts splayed so carefully on your sleeve, you felt like you had left a million things unsaid, things you weren’t sure you would ever be able to air out. The title you had placed upon yourselves had left you wanting more, even if it did serve a little comfort when it changed from friends, and the risqué picture he sent over text after he was dropped off at the hotel was still seared into the front of your mind. Though a few texts had been sent and received between now and then, you still felt like the two of you had been caught in a stalemate, damned if you reached out and damned if you did not.

For the first time since the night on the roof, you finally let yourself feel how much you were missing him, how bleak and lonely life was without his company, whether it be in person or over the phone. For a brief second, you wanted to collapse into his arms, unable to control yourself or ignore the need to be held by him. Giving your head a slight shake, you understood that was not the best way to greet him, especially considering his hands were full, and so were yours.

Well, occupied, at least.

Ozz, who had been completely content with being held by you moments before, was now completely beside himself as he tried to push himself free from your grasp. He was chirping and meowing like crazy, desperate to be noticed by you even if your attention was caught by something else. Finally back to earth, you looked down at the furry companion, noticing his intent was not to be put down on the floor, but rather to greet Jake with all of the love you were withholding from him.

As you watched him lean towards the boy at the door, you felt a rush of emotion flood you, your eyes flickering between Jake and Ozz, finding the situation more telling than anything else.

“He never greets me like that.” You whispered to yourself, stepping forward as Jake did the same, always willing to meet you in the middle.

“He seems more excited to see me than you are.” Jake joked, raising his free hand to pet the cat, showing Ozz he was just as happy to see him.

“Not true.” You dismissed the idea. “I am excited to see you—just surprised.” Not at his presence, but the curious items he held in his hand and the overwhelming response of your cat to his company. And, although he was always welcome at your house, his showing up without any prior warning was very out of character, even for the version of Jake you loved so long ago.

“Can I come in?” One step inside already, he figured it would be best to ask permission to come any further despite the fact he knew he did not need it.

“Of course you can.” You nearly scoffed the reply, astounded by the fact he even felt the need to ask.

“How was your first day?” He asked, gently kicking the door shut behind him as you stepped backwards to allow him inside. Your eyes still fixated on his hands, you couldn’t seem to feign any sense of normalcy in response to his question. You slowly made your way back to the dining room, checking over your shoulder as he followed behind you. As you turned back to face him, you finally managed to respond.

“I-it… good.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at your own lack of poise. “Okay, yeah—what are you doing here?” You finally understood that dismissing his suddenness and surprise was not an option, because you could not focus on anything aside from the—

“For you.” He finally extended his arm, offering the bouquet of expensive looking and beautifully arranged flowers. Taking in the sight of them, smelling the sweet fragrance of the petals, you understood that his visit was not without intent. Knowing that from the very beginning, you carefully sat Ozz on the floor and accepted the gift anyway, feeling little desire to turn him or his sweet gestures away. “I’m headed back home tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” For two people who could not fully be together, the prospect of not having him around nearly brought you to your knees with grief. “So, just stopping in to say goodbye?” The crack in your voice gave you away, instantly telling him how painful the idea was.

A slight smile crossed his face as he gave his head a shake. Then, his eyes flickered to the floor for a moment, like he was trying to compose himself before giving a verbal response. You watched him carefully, like you were begging him for something you did not have the strength to say. Subconsciously, you wanted him to tell you all of the things you wanted to tell him, to open that door and make it easier for you to retract your ridiculous claims of friendship and separate ways.

If you had learned anything in the last few days, it was that you were crazy for thinking you could force yourself away from him a second time. Too scared to say it first, you hoped that by some stroke of luck, he was there to tell you exactly that.

“Not really, no.” He finally said, flipping up the second item in his hand so he could see it clearly. As you swallowed the lump in your throat, you tried not to look down at it, a sinking feeling in your stomach forcing you to believe you lived this exact scenario six years prior. Your only hope was that it would not end the same way. “I have a few things to say; do you have time to listen?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat, wishing to rid yourself of the stutter that suddenly took to your words. “For you, I always do.”

“Good.” He hummed, tapping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickered to your face. “Are you actually going to listen to me, sunshine?”

Although you hated admitting to your bad habits, you knew his question served a purpose, and he was completely justified in asking it.

“Yes.” You promised, assuring him of the fact.

“Okay.” He sighed a breath of relief, happy to hear it. “Nine years ago, or just about, I skipped my fourth period history class. It was raining outside, miserable and cold… I knew I couldn’t swing the soccer field, so I had to stay inside and not get caught. Instead, I went down to the gym, figured I could fuck around in the equipment closet for a little while, then figure something else out.”

“Jake,” you warned, your stomach lurching and your chest aching, remembering the day just as vividly and just as longingly as he did. You couldn’t hear him retell it, couldn’t bear hearing it from his point of view, especially when you spent so many years trying to forget it.

“You said you were going to listen, so listen.” He laughed, barely phased by your expected interruption. “When I went inside, I went straight to the back corner, where they kept all of the soccer balls and basketballs—but I heard something. I stopped, asked myself if I was fuckin’ crazy, but I knew that I wasn’t. Lo and behold, there was a girl sitting behind those big blue gymnastic mats. Do you know who it was, sunshine?” He was playing a sick and twisted game, one that you didn’t like very much but were too curious to refute. You wanted to hear what he had to say, even if it hurt like a bitch to do it.

“Me.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your torso and hugging yourself for a bit of comfort, in agony as you recalled his curious eyes and gentle approach.

“Crying, hiding, all because of Liam and his ridiculous fucking list.” He finished for you, his eyes glazed over as the melancholy sat itself upon both of your shoulders. He remembered that fact with utmost clarity, especially considering the fact he deemed Liam his mortal enemy after you told him why you were in the equipment room in the first place. “I was already in trouble with my parents for skipping—said if I did it again, I wouldn’t be able to play soccer anymore. For whatever reason, that day I couldn’t bring myself to step foot in that classroom, not even when I thought of the consequences. I didn’t care, but I didn’t know why. When I sat down beside you, the first ever time I got to be the shoulder you cried on, I got it. The minute I saw you, sunshine, the very second you opened your mouth and spoke to me, when you let me be that person for you, nothing else in the entire world mattered.”

“I was supposed to be there, Y/N. I was supposed to be with you, listening to you, loving you. My whole life, that is the only thing I have ever wanted to do, that I’ve ever been meant to do. I did it for nine whole years, even while you were gone and even when you didn’t want me to—even when I didn’t want to, I did.” He stepped towards you, intent clear in his eyes and showing no sign of backing down. “Six years ago, I stood in front of you in this house, and I gave you a CD with eight songs. Four songs that told you how much I loved you, and four songs that told you how horrible it felt to know that I wouldn’t be able to love you anymore.” He paused, chuckling to himself as he looked down at his hands, another damned plastic CD case held tightly in one of them.

For the briefest second, the flowers in your hand and the CD in his brought you to a different time, stuck in your bedroom with posters decorating the walls, the sweetness of lavender and vanilla hanging in the air, Dr. Phil reruns echoing down the hallways from the living room. You were eighteen again and so was he, silently begging each other to try a little harder, to have a little more faith, but too afraid to speak it aloud.

This time, you didn’t want to keep quiet. You remembered, almost too vividly, how painful it was to swallow your desires and leave him behind, how it never truly went away, how horrible it felt to chase your dreams without him by your side. You didn’t want that for him; you grew too much, worked too hard to end up in the same situation with just the roles reversed. You couldn’t let him go again, not without saying everything. You could leave no stone unturned, no matter how afraid you were of the outcome. You were so afraid of hurting him and yourself that you were doing it anyway, and if you had learned anything in your time loving Jake, it was that a single moment spent with him was worth any outcome, good or bad.

But, you promised him you would listen. The last few days, you had done all of the talking, made all of the decisions. It was his turn, and you had to allow him that.

“Back then, I thought it was so stupid… that you would think it was stupid, or corny, or whatever.” He swallowed hard, his eyes still focused on the plastic casing in his hand. “For a long time, that’s how I felt about it. Eight songs couldn’t even come close to how I feel about you, sunshine. Nothing could ever explain that, not even me. For six years, I thought there was just some stupid CD out in the world, or in the garbage somewhere, wondering why I couldn’t have been a little braver and said it aloud, rather than being a coward and biting my tongue. I hated that CD, because I always thought it wasn’t enough.”

“Jake, it was more than enough.” You stressed, gently placing the flowers down on the dining room table behind you.

“It wasn’t enough back then, but it was enough to bring you back now, sunshine.” He corrected you. “I wanted it to keep us together, but I’m okay with the fact it just took a while to work.” Before you could respond, you got distracted by the beauty of his face as he smiled softly, like he was proud of himself for phrasing it so perfectly. “I told you that night that it wasn’t over for us, that maybe it was just the time wasn’t right—Romeo and Juliet. That’s why I put that song on there.”

“I know that’s why, and I agreed with you.” You hummed, feeling that damn gravitational pull forcing you towards him again.

“Right, but I’m telling you that there’s no way in hell that the time was wrong twice.” He stepped towards you, wanting to take your face in his hands but holding himself back. “This is our second chance, our opportunity to do it right.”

“But it doesn’t—“

“It does.” He cut you off, knowing exactly where your mind was. “Those notifications, Y/N, all the rescheduled meetings and interviews… I know why you reacted like that, but it wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Then what was it?” You hugged yourself a bit tighter, needing the security as he began to deconstruct even more notions in your mind.

“Josh.” He confessed, catching your eye so you could see the truthful intent.

Jake had always been a terrible liar, and in that moment, you couldn’t catch a single wisp of anything other than the truth.

“When you called, and we started talking again, he was even happier than we were, and it was his idea to put everything on pause so I could come here and make sure that I didn’t lose you again.” You felt a wave of sickness wash over you, guilt nipping at your skin and ravaging your heart and head. Jake didn’t put everything on pause and hinder himself and everyone else; everyone else was on board, pushing him back towards the girl he dreamt of every night for six years. You had jumped the gun, decided things for yourself and never gave him the chance to explain. “And if you think, even for a second, that I would want any girl that wasn’t you, you really have lost your mind, sunshine.”

“I didn’t…” you trailed off, knowing that you had indeed lost your mind. Believing that he would ever be unfaithful or disloyal to you was the most insane thing you had ever done, and punishing him for something you knew was not true was even worse. “I’m sorry, bug.”

“Amelie is our friend, yes, but more importantly,” he reached into his pocket, swiping the screen to unlock it and show you he was being honest. “Our photographer.” He flashed the screen in your direction, the text chain in question visible. The very message that put the nail in the coffin was followed by what looked like four pristine, stunning pictures of Jake on stage with his guitar in his hands, illuminated by the pyrotechnics with his hair sticking to his skin.

Although the topic at hand was more pressing, you could not deny the feeling rapidly growing in the pit of your stomach, worsening as you stared at the pictures of him, wondering if by chance you would be able to see the sight with your own eyes someday.

“I was bothering her all week to send me some of the shots she got… to show you.”

“Jake,” you took your face in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart ached for the boy who stood before you. How could you hurt him so badly, more than once? “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m not mad, or upset, or anything, sunshine. You deserve the truth, and that’s why I’m here.” As you pulled your hands away from your face, you saw him slip his phone back into his pocket. Then, his attention turned back to the plastic case in his hands as he drew in a long breath. “And the fucking truth is, I can’t go back to Nashville and leave things like this. I can’t be your friend, I can’t be in love but not together, and I won’t be a fucking stranger again. You found that box for a reason, and the reason is standing in front of you right now—the reason was the night at the hotel, and what should have been the last few days. The time isn’t wrong, sunshine. I’m here, telling you that I have never stopped loving you, not even for a minute. I waited so long for you to reach out, spent so many nights staring at the ceiling trying to remember what it felt like when you were laying next to me, and I don’t want to do that anymore, especially when I know that it feels just as good now as it did when we were eighteen.”

He didn’t give you the chance to interrupt, because he stepped forward and pulled your mind in an entirely different direction. The scent of his cologne, sandalwood and amber, so reminiscent of the only peace you had ever known, was impossible to ignore.

“I gave you eight songs when we were eighteen, and I let you walk away. That was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I spent my whole life trying to figure out how to fix it.”

You looked upwards, intoxicated by his cologne and frozen in time as you locked eyes with him. Sometimes, when he was staring at you, it felt like the whole world stopped turning, like the only thing that existed was the love shared between you. Your heart, aching and yearning for the only thing you had ever loved, did not belong to you. It had always been in the palm of his hand, his name to be heard in every timely beat if you listened close enough, and it never felt right anywhere else. Even as you stood now, broken and bruised after so long of suffering, you knew it was the only place you ever wanted it to be.

“This time, I have eight songs that I’ll let you decide the meaning to. If you want to walk away again, I can’t stop you, but only if you really mean it sunshine. If there is any part of you that wants to try again, listen to it—to me, when I tell you how fucking much I love you, how badly I want this.” Your eyes fluttered closed, trying your best not to shed a tear as you clung to every word. How could you deny him? How could you push him out the door and risk the chance of losing him forever? You knew how miserable life was without him by your side, and sometimes you believed death would be preferable to the feeling of missing him. Constantly walking, functioning, breathing, but never enjoying it. The functions automatic, just for survival and never for anything more.

You were tired of surviving, because you knew that being with him was the only time it ever truly felt like you were living.

“No One Like You, The Scorpions.” He started, confidence returning to him when he did not hear any objections. “If I had to pick one song to describe exactly how it felt without you, that’s the one. In six years, I never met a single person that could even come close to you, sunshine. I waited every single day for this, just to be with you again, no matter what we were doing.” You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to break any more, but every time he spoke, it did just that.

“You’re In My Heart… Rod Stewart.” He hummed out the words, sending you a soft smile that made your stomach twist in on itself. “Because you’re in my heart, you’re in my soul… you’ll be my breath should I grow old…” He whispered, reciting the lyrics as the apples of his cheeks tinged red. He chuckled at himself, embarrassed at his own actions, but you couldn’t have fallen any further in love with him than you were in that moment.

“You’re my lover, you’re my best friend.” You finished for him, unable to hold back the smile that wanted to match his so badly. Reaching out, a gentle hand landed on his forearm to show him how much he meant to you and how true the words were.

“Carry On by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.” He continued, listing off yet another song that would mean just as much to you in years to come, no matter the outcome. “For lots of reasons… listened to it a lot after you went to school. Guess the reason I put it on this one was because of that last line. ‘Lover, can you talk to me?’” He paused, reaching up to swipe away a single tear that escaped the corner of your eye. “We don’t have to just… carry on. We can figure it out together, as a team. Just like we always did back then.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” You admitted, the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. There was no more holding back; the floodgates had opened, and you too knew that there was no way you could send him back to Nashville and leave things like this.

“We’re Going Wrong.” He said, trying to get through the songs as fast as possible. “I listened to it the day you left for university, and I listened to it this week at the hotel. This is wrong, sunshine. All of it. The way we feel, being apart… it doesn’t have to be like this. Two people who love each other this much should be able to make it work.”

You didn’t give a verbal response, but you were sure he could see it in your eyes that you felt the same.

“I Can’t Tell You Why… last time, I threw a Bob Dylan song on the CD, and I know you hated it, even if you didn’t say it out loud. Maybe that was why it didn’t work.” At that, the two of you shared a true, genuine laugh that shook your shoulders and lessened the heartbreak for a moment. “To make up for it, I put an Eagles song on this one, ‘cause I know they’re your favorite. Lots to pick from, but I think that one gets the message across the best.”

“Me, too.” You hummed, unable to tear your eyes away from his, feeling an invisible force locking you into place. Every time you saw him, every single time his eyes connected with yours, the whole world felt right. It seemed as though when he was next to you, nothing could ever go wrong.

“Sweet City Woman.” He laughed to himself as he said it aloud, the blush on his cheeks darkening as he prepared to confess to the next one. “Sam went through this phase, way back when we first went on tour… swear to god, sunshine, he played this song every single day. Drank to it before shows, he danced around to it on the tour bus. Not sure what it was… maybe it was just catchy, upbeat, put him in a good mood and got stuck in his head… I used to get so mad at him, but it wasn’t because I hated the song, or anything like that. For the first little while, it was funny watching him sing along to it, but it always made me so fucking sad and I had no idea why. Went to bed early one night, they were all drinking and talking, and he put it on like usual… I was scrolling through old pictures, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and it made sense—that whole song, from the very first note, always made me miss you, because it reminded me of you. Bright and shiny, full of love and light…”

“Some things never change, Jacob.” You laughed, blinking back tears blurring your vision. The happy sadness was coating your words, stuck in your throat and warbling your tone.

“What do you mean?” He asked, fighting every urge to hold you until the sadness passed and only happiness remained.

“Hopeless romantic, just like always.” You whispered, feeling tempted by the softness of his lips, wondering if you could interrupt his grand show of affection and cut straight to the point. Remembering what it was like to kiss him and to touch him was tortuous enough without him within reach, but having him standing in front of you was worse than anything else. Still, you decided to let him finish, to say all he needed to get off his chest so the two of you could move forward.

“Only for you, Y/N. Always for you.” He hummed, the gentle tone matching yours. “Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band… we were at a bar, Josh and I, not long after we released that first EP. Went on a big road trip to Toledo, just him and I, to get away and to distract me from being miserable—not sure why we picked Toledo, but whatever—anyway, we were at this dingy bar, losing money at a set of slot machines.” He cut himself off from rambling, bluntly getting to the main point of his story. At that, another laugh took hold, imagining the picture with the utmost clarity. “Someone threw this song on the old Jukebox, and I had never heard it before. Was an older couple, just starting to go gray and definitely hammered. Sunshine, they slow danced to that song like they were the only people in the room—no, in the world. I was drunk off draft, and mourning the three-hundred bucks I just threw in the machine, and I watched them the whole damn time.” He stopped himself, choked up and teary-eyed just at the memory. He shook his head, clearing his throat as he blinked away his own tears, unwilling to break down in front of you as he told the story.

“I just remember thinking to myself how much I wanted to do that with you, how badly I wanted that to be us—then and in twenty years, when your hair is turning gray and I’m going bald. It had been so long since I talked to you, since I saw you, and even then… I just knew, sunshine. I knew it was you, that it would always be you. Here in Michigan, at mom and dad’s house, in a taproom in fucking Toledo, at the Eiffel Tower in France, in that fucking hotel room in Italy—sunshine, it’s you. You’re the only thing I have ever wanted, and no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I want you there beside me. I knew that night that I couldn’t give up, because if I still loved you as much as I did when you left, it wasn’t worth letting go.”

“Jake,” you swallowed back a sob, your heart shattered in your chest and stabbing you with every breath, knowing that you felt all of the same things for just as long as he did. “I felt—I feel the same way. There was never another you, and I didn’t want to find one. I didn’t want anyone to take your place, or sleep in bed next to me. I didn’t want to learn anyone else’s favorite color, or how they drank their coffee. I wanted you.” He wanted to respond, but his eyes flickered to the CD, knowing he had one last thing to say before the conversation changed direction. You smiled, giving him a gentle nod as a silent permissive gesture. He let out a breath, happy to know you understood what he meant.

“Straight On, Heart.” He finished the tracklist, proud of himself for making it that far. “I’m here for a reason, sunshine, and you know exactly what it is.” He finished, standing still as he awaited your response. His breathing stopped, his eyes locked on you with no intent to move, wondering if after all this time it was finally enough. “Do you feel it too, or am I just fucking crazy?” Instead of responding, you reached your hand out, slow and steady as you extended it towards him. His gaze flickered towards your outstretched fingers, wondering what it meant and if he accepted, would it be for the reason he so badly wanted.

“Come on,” you emphasized your hand, raising an eyebrow at him. Cautiously, he reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “Come with me.” You whispered, taking a small step towards the hallway. Without a word, he followed behind, letting you lead him up the stairs and to your bedroom, the one in which you had created a lifetime's worth of cherished memories. “Sit.” You motioned towards the bed, reluctantly letting go of his hand as you ushered him away from you.

He did as you asked, still holding the CD close as he sat on the very edge of the bed, the same space you sat six years prior while he stood and poured his heart out to you. For a brief moment, you admired the sight of him in your bed again, feeling that it had been far long since you were able to experience something so beautiful. Then, forcing yourself to remember why you brought him upstairs in the first place, you took a step towards your desk. Your fingers clasped around the tattered shoebox, the fateful capsule of memories that brought you back to him in the first place. The shine of silver sharpie, half faded and covered with dust brought a smile to your face as you picked it up and brought it to him, taking a seat next to him on the mattress.

“The first Christmas after we broke up, I sat right here with Mom… I was so sad. I was sad every single day after I left, and sometimes it felt like I was drowning in it, like I would die if it didn’t get better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you knew he was listening to every word. “I listened to that first mixtape twenty-four seven, Jake. First thing in the morning, while I got ready for class, while I showered, when I went to bed. I had every scratch, skip, static, all of it, memorized. I thought about you every minute of every day, and dreamt about you while I slept. When I came home for the holidays, I was a fucking mess.” Listening intently without saying a word, his eyes seemed to be burning holes straight through you, putting you on display like never before.

“She was desperate to help, so she did the exact same thing she did when dad left; she helped me pack up every single memory and reminder of you we could find.” You felt the scratch of tears in your throat as you recalled the visceral pain as you packed your life’s greatest love away in a box to never be seen again. “Including the CD.” You flipped the top open, feeling a sinking feeling in your stomach for no real reason at all. The memories washed over you like summer rain, sweeter and warmer than ever before now that he was here to live it with you. You reached inside, your fingertips grazing over flower petals and baby’s breath from corsages and bouquets he didn’t even think you remembered.

“She packed it away somewhere, kept it out of sight until I was ready for it again. Think she thought that when I stumbled across it, I’d be healed and moved on… she never anticipated me to still be as in love with you as I was the day we put all of this stuff away.” You continued, carefully laying out tokens of love on the patterned cotton sheet below, showing him just how cherished and loved he was by you. “I always knew, Jake. I always knew that you would be that person for the rest of my life, no matter where I was or how long it had been since I saw you. When I opened this box… the whole world stopped. At first, it hurt so bad, but now I know that it happened for a reason.”

“I tried, for four years, to forget about you, to forget about how badly I missed you, how deeply I loved you. I buried myself in work, distracted myself with anything I could think of, and sure after a while the memories faded to the back of my mind, but that hollow feeling never left.” You scattered old guitar picks alongside flower petals, your fingers tracing the divots in the plastic from their prolonged use. Years of musical history lived within the flimsy fibers, contained within the box to keep them safe forever. Not a single moment of Jake’s life, of his love, or of his emotion went unnoticed by you, and not a single second did you ever take it for granted. Within your heart, it was forever sacred. “I had myself convinced that you moved on, that you forgot all about me and found a girl who could love you better than I could, back then. Not for a single second did I ever consider the idea that you were hurting just as bad as I was, because if I’m being honest, I never thought there was a universe that existed where you would not be loved so completely and wholly like you deserved.”

“When I found the box… as we sit here now, I know that you were always loved like that, even if you didn’t feel it or see it or hear it, because I never stopped.” You pressed your lips together tightly, locking up the cry that was desperate to escape as your fingers grazed the stack of old Polaroids. “Every single thing you ever gave me, every picture we took, every love letter you signed with your name, it’s all here, Jake. I kept it for a reason, because six years ago the universe knew I would need some motivation, some courage, to reach out and tell you that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you.”

“I remember everything. Where we took these pictures, how it felt to be loved by you in that moment, the sound of Josh laughing at us, the fucking sticky summer heat on my skin. All of these guitar picks—you gave me this one,” you pointed at a green one, smiling softly to yourself. “This one fell out of your pocket into the bed,” you pointed at a worn black one. “And I found this one in the bathroom, the night we decided to take a step back and figure our shit out before I left.” You took in a deep breath, calming your buzzing nerves as you continued to tell him everything you had kept secret for so long. “This sticky note, you left on my desk in senior year. English class, which you fucking hated, after the teacher got pissed off at you for talking to me. This rose petal came from the first bouquet of flowers you ever gave me, and this movie stub was from eleventh grade.” You stopped yourself, realizing you were rambling for no real reason at all other than to finally, truly express how much he meant to you.

“Point is, I didn’t forget anything. I convinced myself I did, ‘til it was in front of my face and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I found this for a reason, and the reason definitely isn’t ’two people in love who can’t fully be together’.” You finished, catching his hopeful eye and feeling the same feeling blossoming in your own chest. “I was stupid, and I was scared, both times. I wish I could take that back, to make it right and make it up to you… I know I can’t, but I want to try, Jake. All those things I felt at the hotel, although they’re true, aren’t a good enough reason to give this up. My whole life, especially the last six years, I’ve come to terms with the fact that loving you is the only thing that I know how to do, and I don’t want to know anything or anyone else. You’re that person for me too, bug. You always have been.”

“Sunshine,” he breathed, his hand going in search of the items you held so close to your heart. As his calloused fingertips grazed the edge of the Polaroid picture, the very one of you sitting in the field, nestled so comfortably in his arms, you knew the exact feeling that washed over him. Seeing it after so long, having all of that love rush back and fill your body, it was almost too much to bear. Thankfully, this time, you had each other to lean on. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”

“I know you won’t throw your life away to be with me. I suppose I’m just so afraid… I’m afraid because I love you so much, Jake. Even while I went off, chasing my own dreams and building a new life… yours were still so important to me. I’ve been your biggest fan since the day I met you, and I know how hard you’ve worked to get here, and I don’t ever want to get in the way of that. I couldn’t handle it if I did and you resented me for it. I love you too much, Jake. Always have. Used to think it was a bad thing, but I know that it is the best thing in the whole fucking world. Loving you makes it worth it, and I want to live your dream with you, and now you can live my dream with me.” He haphazardly tossed all of the items back in the box, still cautious so as not to damage any of the precious memories, a blinding smile growing on his face the longer he worked at the task.

“Last time, I told you ‘we have tonight’.” He said, finally placing the box on the floor beside the bed and looking back at you. You hummed a noise of agreement, nodding ever so slightly. “What if it’s not just tonight, sunshine? It can be the rest of our lives. It can feel like this forever—I just need you to say yes. We can figure all of the hard shit out later, take it as it comes.” He watched you, waiting as you processed what he was saying. After a moment of prolonged silence, he spoke again. “I love you, sunshine. More than anyone or anything, and I will love you no matter if you’re mine or not. If we’re going to love each other anyway, let’s do it the right way.” Silence ensued once more, but not because you were hesitant. This time, it was because you had a hard time believing that it could be real, that he was here and the stars had aligned, that the time was finally right.

No more obstacles, no more fear, no more waiting for the one thing you had always dreamed about. He was here, eight more songs in hand, ready to love you for the rest of his life and unwilling to settle for anything less. You had never wanting anyone or anything more than this, more than him, and after spending so long lamenting about something you thought you may never get, it was difficult to trust that it could be so easy.

“What do you say, sunshine?” Clearly, the silence was affecting him a bit more than you realized, leaving him shifting nervously in his seat and desperate for an answer.

“Yes, Jake.” You breathed, nodding your head as a second form of reassurance. “Of course I’m going to say yes. I know I’ve been afraid, and stupid, but you are the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Being with you is the only thing that makes sense.” You explained, moving a bit closer to him in hopes he would take the hint. “I want to figure it out. I want us to work.”

Without another word, without any hesitation, he sprung forward like you had just given him the greatest gift in the entire world. His hands landed on your hips, and not long after his lips were on your own, showing you exactly how he felt about your decision. The feeling of his touch sent you spiraling, ascending to a height that only he could bring you to. His hands, warm and gentle, felt like they were burning straight through the cotton material covering your skin, leaving behind a mark to claim you as his own despite the fact you had always been his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, inviting him in and hoping he would choose to stay there forever so you would never have to suffer another minute without him.

It seemed like when he was touching you, the whole world was still; nothing else mattered, and nothing that would come after could ever compare. The only terrible part of it was the fact you could never get enough, that you couldn’t fathom the bliss coming to an end or how you could survive the loss of it. Although the two of you had grown accustomed to loss at each other's hands, it never made the hurt any easier nor the pain any less dignified.

“Jake, I need you.” You whispered, breaking from his kiss just long enough to utter the words.

Just like always, you did not have to ask him twice. Still high off the emotion-filled confessional, he stood and kicked the door shut, barely lingering to lock it before he was back by your side. His need, although unspoken, exuded from his actions and the familiar look in his eye. He had been waiting, patient and loving for you to give him permission to do the one thing he was put on earth to do.

As he climbed back on the bed, between your legs, you could not refute how innate the feeling was—nothing had ever felt so right, the weight of his body atop of yours, always secure and never intimidating. The softness of his lips against your skin, the love woven into the miniscule action enchanting and endless, reminding you of his heart and how it beat just for you. The rough calluses on his fingertips, igniting every bit of skin he touched and now, the tickle of his hair as it fell over his shoulders—all of it was a small piece of an even bigger picture, one in which you painted in your mind every night you spent without him, the bed empty yet somehow still sunken in by the weight of his memory beside you.

Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done. Falling was never the question, and climbing out wasn’t even a possibility. Even if you were equipped with the skills to evade it, you didn’t want to. Even when you had yourself fooled, believing you had left it behind in the little hometown that would always haunt you, it was bound to catch up to you eventually.

When his lips connected with yours again, the sweet taste of his skin against the very tip of your tongue, you wondered if he was the very thing that breathed life into you. Your heart, mending just at the thought of a future with him, your soul shining brighter and threatening to burst from under your skin as he continued to love you. Without him, survival remained, but living was always the question. How can you truly enjoy your life when you always feel like there’s a part of you missing?

The feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach, your skin aflame with his touch, the breathlessness in your lungs and the steady thud of your heart underneath your breastbone let you know that you were whole again—feeling every single sensation intensified by a million, you were living. Not waiting for the mediocre to pass you by, not gazing out into nothing and wondering if you would find something—he was there, invigorating and energizing parts inside you that you never thought would feel again, like he never even left at all.

As his hands slipped under your shirt, the slight scratch of his rough skin sending a shiver down your spine, you wondered how you ever had the ability to deny him at all. Walking away from that hotel room, leaving him behind and swallowing your sorrow may have been an act that hurt him, but you did so with the intent to keep him safe. It was never a selfish act, nor an intent to harm. You truly believed that by keeping your distance, you would protect the very heart that gave so much to you, that it would save him even more hurt in the long run. Now, feeling the emotion bleeding him dry, the beat of his heart against your own body, you saw a whole different side of the story. Leaving never protected either of you, not in the very beginning and certainly not now. Being with each other, living life alongside each other, seemed to be the only thing that would leave you both truly satisfied.

“Fuck,” you hissed through your teeth, all of the nerves in your body aflame as his palm landed over your chest, the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his touch sending electricity straight through you. Using his arm to push the fabric away from your torso, it slid upwards and bunched together around your shoulders, leaving you exposed and at his disposal.

He leaned down, his lips trailing over your stomach as he made it a point to show you just how much he held for you in his heart. Even if the intent was filthy, the act itself sinful, he treated you with care and caution, making sure you knew he would never lay a finger on you if it were for the wrong reasons. Just the same as an angry word would never pass his lips, a cruel name or even a negative thought in his head. When it came to you, love was the only thing that concerned him, and now that he had the second chance he had been waiting so patiently for he was determined to show you all of the things he was feeling.

With every kiss he placed on your skin, you felt his actions grow more careless. His tongue traced the same spots his lips once graced, and as he progressed further up your body, faint red marks remained from the suction of his cheeks, desperate to remind you of his company for days to come. Eventually, his mouth landed on your breast, his tongue grazing your hardened nipple and forcing your thighs to try and squeeze together, desperate for friction. He felt the pressure on his hips, settled carefully between them as you tried to relieve yourself without a second thought. You could feel him smile against you, only worsening the ache between your legs.

You wanted him so bad you could barely contain yourself, unable to enjoy the moment without feeling the need for more. A whine in the back of your throat only furthered his cockiness, letting him know he barely had to try to make you feel good. Every breathy moan and muffled sigh affected him, and you could feel his cock against your core, worked up just by touching you and asking for relief just at the thought of fucking you.

You slowly reached your hand between your bodies, wanting to feel him just the same as he was with you. As you palmed him through his pants, you felt his hips jut forward ever so slightly, unable to control the reaction he had to your hands on him.

“Impatient much?” He chastised you, his tone light and a small smile on his lips as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Not impatient,” you huffed, your cheeks flushed from his constant attention. “Just know what I want.” A low chuckle shook his shoulders, finding your rebuttal humorous.

“Mhm,” he hummed an agreement, looking up at you with a shine of mischief in his warm brown eyes. “And that just so happens to be… me?” His torment was getting on your nerves, making you regret speaking at all.

“Obviously, Jake. Did you really need to ask that?” You rolled your eyes, watching his gaze flicker to your shirtless chest for a moment, like he was admiring the sight and unable to look away.

“No,” he grinned. “Just like to hear you say it.” You did not have time to think too long about his words, because his mouth was back on you, and this time as he kissed, his lips traveled downwards towards your navel. As he did so, you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed with him any longer, too caught up in the rush of excitement that flooded your body and distracted by the thought of what was to come.

As his fingers dipped below the waistband of your pants, you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out. He barely even touched you, yet everything he was doing felt fantastic. Just him being near made you want to fall to your feet, to beg him for more, for anything he was willing to give. You lifted your hips from the mattress, allowing him to slide your pajama bottoms and underwear down in one motion. Once he removed them from your legs, he tossed them to the floor without a single care in the world.

When his hands returned to your legs, your muscles tensed and twitched at the feeling. Slowly, he brought his lips back to your skin, grazing over the insides of your thighs. Your hands traveled downward, fingers lacing into the locks of his hair as he continued his torment.

Eventually, his mouth was hovering over your heat, a hunger in his eyes that you could not quite comprehend as you stared down at him. You could feel the arousal pooling, your need unfathomable as you understood how close you were to having him again. Despite all the heartbreak, the pain when he was gone, the minute he was in reach you were absolved of all the ailments.

Two strong hands on your hips, holding you firmly as he pulled you down on the mattress, connecting his mouth to your cunt with ease. A gasp fell from your lips, your abdomen tensing at the intensity of the feeling. His tongue settled over your entrance, savoring the taste of you for a moment.

When he began to move, slowly but intently through your folds until he landed over your clit, your hips raised off the bed to meet the time of his actions. His name, already caught in the back of your throat and stuck in your teeth as you tried to hold it back, was forcing its way out whether you wanted it to or not. He was barely tracing circles around your clit before your legs were trembling, and barely started before you felt the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Everything he did was fantastic, and it always seemed like he never even realized it.

If you had learned any lesson on your journey, it was that Jake was undoubtedly one of a kind, in a league of his own without even a thought of another contender.

“Always taste so fucking sweet, angel. Can’t believe it’s all for me.” His tone was raspy as he pulled back for just long enough to praise you, the sound washing over you as warm as summer rain.

For the briefest of moments, you were sixteen again, falling in love with him all over again and even more intensely than before. Back then, you did not know much about love or how to express it, but you always tried your best. Looking back on it, you understood that despite your lack of knowledge, you loved him better than you could ever love another, and he did the same with you. Now, you had grown and you had learned, all of the lessons you did not realize you needed to endure and all of the hardships you faced and never realized would help you in the future allowed you to love him with a whole new meaning, appreciating him for all he was and all he would be.

You were near twenty five, a quarter of a century spent fighting for happiness and figuring out what was right, finally at the destination you always knew you’d find.

You wished you could say it was only a part of you that forever belonged to Jake, even in his absence, but it was not true. All of you had always belonged to him, and trying to refute the fact was the stupidest thing you had ever done.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whined, the pleasure pulsing under your skin and infiltrating your veins. He was so phenomenal that he took over every thought and emotion, burrowing into your skin and making a home in all of the places you never suspected to find him. His memory was seared into your heart, hollowing out your bones and existing within them. Everything he was doing now served only as a reminder that you would never be able to escape the love he so often threw your way.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He encouraged, his tone thick with desire as he used his thumb in place of his tongue. “You know it’s my favorite sound in the whole fucking world.” Overtaken with need, you let out a strained cry, wanting to give him anything and everything he ever asked for. He hummed against you as he traced your clit with his tongue, gentle praise to let you know how happy he was to hear it. He added his fingers to you, slowly pumping his middle and index fingers and curling them upwards in search of the spot he knew all too well.

Your hands in his hair tightened, drawing him nearer even though it was virtually impossible to do so. Your hips began a slow, steady rhythm to match the time of his tongue and hand, maximizing the pleasure he was granting you and desperate for more. The warm wetness of his tongue was divine, pushing you closer to the edge with every passing second and sparing you no mercy.

The searing heat of your skin, the glisten of sweat on your forehead and the rapid rise and fall of your chest let him know he had you exactly where he wanted you, and now that he did, he would never let it slip away.

The knot in the pit of your stomach began tightening, fraying under the pressure and threatening to snap. Your heart was pounding, wildly drumming against your chest and in your throat. Your lungs were burning, unable to catch up on the air you so desperately needed. As you struggled to comprehend the intensity of the feeling, you feared for a fleeting moment in time that you might die at his hand. Then, as the thought passed you by, you understood that it would be the most blissful end you could ever imagine. To die by his touch and the last sight be his eyes, you knew there would be no better. Whatever came after, wherever you landed, the memory would allow you to flourish under any circumstances.

“Oh god, Jake.” Your words served as a warning, close to an orgasm and left without control. It never took him long to get you where he wanted you, and that day proved no different.

He hummed against you, the soft vibration only heightened the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. As your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, your hips raised from the bed to meet the time of his tongue, your body in search of something you were unsure you could handle. Without any warning, the knot in your belly snapped under the pressure, leaving you unraveling beneath him, your throat aching as you cried out his name. Your mind was foggy, your thighs trembling as he held you in place, working you through the orgasm like it was his favorite pastime. He did not slow until your muscles relaxed and you were melting into the mattress below, and even when he pulled away, you knew it was not to give you any kind of break. He slid from the bed and freed himself from his pants and boxers with little effort, and before you knew it he was between your legs on his knees before you even came too, his cock resting against your entrance and his eyes fixated on your fucked-out expression. He was too desperate to wait any longer, not even long enough to fully rid himself of his clothes, but you did not mind one bit.

“Do you know how much I love you, sunshine?” He asked, anchoring his hands around your hips as he pulled you towards him. “Do you know how much you mean to me? How much this means to me?” Sliding his hands to the front of your thighs, he pushed your legs towards your stomach with his chest. “You are everything to me, Y/N. You always have been, and you always will be.” As he spoke, he pushed his hips forward, the stretch of you from his size delicious and intoxicating. “You’re home to me, Angel.”

“I do, baby.” You groaned, your head falling back on the pillows as his sweet words washed over you. “I feel the same, Jake. I always have.” You cried, feeling him withdraw and slam back into you.

Looking up at him, the overhead light highlighting the small details that drive you crazy, you noticed your previous orgasm still glistening on his chin. His pupils had engulfed his irises, blackened with lust and shining with desire. The raise of his shoulders with every heaved breath, the radiance of the little skin you could see. He was stunning, ethereal and god-like as he towered over you, and you still could not believe how lucky you were to be on the receiving end of his love.

As he fucked you, he used one hand to undo the last few buttons on his shirt, shaking it from his shoulders and tossing it lazily on the floor. The careless action sent a rush of pleasure straight to your core, making you wonder why everything he did was so fantastic, no matter what it was.

“Always feel so fucking good, sunshine.” He hummed, using his hands on your thigh to pull you down on him with every thrust of his hips. The impact made your legs feel like liquid, barely able to hold them up if not for his help. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips, making the two of you privy to another way that proved you were meant to be together. “Just like you were fucking made for me.” At that, your walls fluttered around him, pulling him in deeper in hopes to keep him there forever.

Keeping his arm hooked around your thigh, he reached between your legs and settled his thumb over your clot, tracing slow circles as he continued on his steady pace. You were a mess for him, your throat raw as you hissed obscenities through your teeth. You reached up, curling your fingers around his biceps to keep yourself steady, the pulse of the pleasure sending you off kilter. Having him so close, so entirely, was a feeling you could not get from anything else. You wanted Jake, all of him, all of the time. Being deprived of it did not seem like such a big deal in the time you spent away, but now back in his arms, you knew how detrimental the loss was.

“Feels so fucking good, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the familiar sensation begin to burn in your belly again. “You make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.” He hummed, applying a touch more pressure with his thumb. “Nobody else could make you feel like this, right?” He delivered a particularly sharp slam of his hips, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Only you, Jake. Nobody else.” You cried the agreement, wanting him to know that it was not only fact, but law. He was the only person in the entire world that could ever make you feel so good, so loved. He knew you better than anyone, and he loved you better than anything. He was in a league of his own, no contender even possible.

“And why is that, angel?” He asked, the force of his thrusts increasing, but not his speed. Every time he moved, you could feel him brush against the sensitive spot inside of you only he knew of. He was intent on driving you crazy, and he was making quick work at it. “Tell me why that is.” He ordered, his tone a bit more curt as he spoke for the second time.

“Because I’m yours,” you gasped, your hips raising to meet his when a particularly sharp pull of pleasure took hold. “I’m all yours Jake.”

“Exactly, baby.” He huffed, seemingly faltering at the sound of your words. “Because you’re all mine.” The possessiveness did nothing but further your pathetic need for him. All you had ever wanted to be was his, and knowing he wanted it just as bad was almost too much to bear.

His fingers seemed to be searing into your skin, the heat of his touch almost painful as he fucked into you, but you could not get enough of it. The marks that were destined to be left behind would remind you of him when he was on his flight back to Nashville, a gentle promise that he would be back again and the distance would not wear on his ability to love you. You felt greedy, wanting him to mark up your skin and leave his memory embedded in your soul, needed to hold on to every piece when he was far away. The thought used to scare you, worry you that in his absence, his fondness would falter. Now, you knew that would be impossible. There was no amount of distance, in this life or the next, that would lessen his love for you. He loved you the same as you loved him, and because of that, you knew it to be infinite.

“I want you to cum for me, sunshine.” He pulled you down on him again, his thumb still tracing circles as his hips moved in time. You could not verbally respond, instead feeling a guttural moan tear straight through your chest. He did not need to ask more than once, and in truth, he never needed to ask at all. You were teetering on the edge, close from the very moment he pushed inside of you, wanting nothing more than to give him anything and everything he wanted.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles tensing as you felt the fire blazing within you become too much to withstand. With one last thrust of his hips, for the second time that night he had turned you into a mess below him. As the sweet sounds fell from your lips, he reveled in the feeling, unable to express the pride he felt knowing he had such an effect on you.

“There you go, angel.” He praised your hard work, finding it difficult to hold himself back as his name was spoken so beautifully between the slur of curses. You were worse than any addiction he had ever experienced, your hold on him so strong that he would go to the ends of the earth for you. “God, you take it so fucking well.” He huffed, a groan falling from his lips as he lost his own composure.

When you came down from the high, you had no time to recover, his pace never slowing and his thumb never letting up. The sting of overstimulation began to terrorize your nerves, driving you near insanity as you squirmed under his touch. You didn’t want him to stop, willing to take every uncomfortable second if it meant he would stay right there and never leave again.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Just a little longer.” He encouraged, noticing your expression shift. “Always such a good girl for me.” You did not respond, instead feeling tears sting your eyes as the irritating feeling took over your entire body.

“Oh, fuck, Jake!” You exploded, your throat raw as you sang his name. It was like music to his ears, like it was a hymn and he was the god you prayed to. As long as he had a say, he never wanted that to change.

“That’s it, angel.” He growled, his head falling back and exposing the columns of his neck. You stared up at him, wondering how you could feel something so sinful and immoral at the same time as you felt such innocent and beautiful love for the boy. Jake made you feel a million things all at once, which was part of the reason he was so fantastic. He made you feel things you weren’t even sure you could, things you did not even know existed.

“Ah, fuck.” He hissed. Then, a growl came straight from his chest, framing him closer to a wild animal than the love of your night. He withdrew his hips, then in one swift motion, got out from between your legs and slipped his arm under your waist. Easily, he flipped you onto your stomach, the suddenness taking you by surprise and quickly making you forget about the nagging overstimulation.

Within seconds, he was back on top of you, straddling your thighs as he lined himself back up with you. When he fucked into you, the tightness of your body and the size of him sent you into bliss, only furthered when his hand raised to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he gently pulled your head backwards. As his hips found a new pace, he leaned his upper half down towards you, his lips settling just over your ear as he placed a kiss to it. A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt. Instead, when he pulled your head to the side and connected your mouths, you let him drink in every pathetic whine and cry, needing him to feel it instead of hear it.

Only when he was desperate for air did he pull away, his skin burning and his eyes crazed as he looked over your expression. Your flushed cheeks and shining eyes had always been his favorite sight in the whole world, and after watching you come undone by his doing twice, he was barely hanging on to his own sanity.

“Can you give me one more, angel?” He whispered, his cock brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. Your skin was electric, your nerves on fire and your legs trembling.

“D-don’t know, Jake.” You stuttered the response, wanting to do whatever he asked of you but feeling the tiredness set in. The rollercoaster of emotions and the surplus of pleasure had left your mind greatly depleted, your energy non-existent, and your eyelids heavy.

“You can do it, baby. Know you can, for me.” He continued, placing a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek. You nearly melted at the touch, and now that he had phrased it in such a way, you believed anything would be possible so long as the reward was his happiness. He was right—it wouldn’t take much at all to send you over the edge again, and if he continued to whisper the sweet words in your ear, you would be long gone before he even realized it.

You tried not to think about how good he felt inside of you, the stretch against him as he fucked you, how perfect his body fit against yours and how right it felt to be with him. It seemed like every time you let your mind linger on it, the pull of pleasure was too strong to resist, and you feared you might not be able to survive through another orgasm. Still, you felt it coming, your skin tingling as he continued to push you closer to it, little remorse in his heart.

“J-Jake,” you whined, your fingers gripping at the sheets as your burning cheek pressed against the pillow.

“That’s it, baby.” His tone was breathy, far away as he listened to the sound of yours. You knew him so well, even after so much time, and you could tell he wasn’t far behind you.

A particularly drawn out moan that sounded from behind you sent your body into overdrive, all of your nerves ignited with the same fire as before. Without warning, you cried out his name, your hands gripping the sheets to hold yourself steady as you felt the euphoric sensation begin to take over. This time, he couldn’t help but join you, the urge tempting him too greatly to dismiss. You felt his fingers on your skin, holding on to you just as tightly as you held the sheets, like the only grounding thing in the world was you.

Then, ever so gently, your name crossed his lips, softly and sweetly like he did not even mean to speak it aloud. The thought of you bringing him to such a state only furthered the ravenous feeling. You felt your walls clench around him, drawing him in further as he spilled his release into you. The climax was more intense than anything you had ever felt before, lasting long enough for you to beg for mercy, but you knew every second of it was meant to be cherished. Soon enough, he would be on a flight back to Nashville and you would be wishing for his company again, willing to give up everything just for a moment.

When you both came down from the high, Jake continued to rest inside of you as he gently laid atop of you, careful not to put too much weight on you but unable to resist the urge to be close with you. The warmth of his body sent you straight into bliss, your tired eyes and mind finally resting now that you were in his arms. Life felt good—it felt right. Being without him, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, always felt wrong. You were eternally grateful for his persistence and his never changing love for you. You were blessed beyond what many ever experienced from receiving his love alone.

The soft thud of his heart was soothing, his fingers mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair as he enjoyed the intimacy of the moment.

“There’s nothing else in the entire world that I want more than this, sunshine.” He whispered, his voice soft and tired. For a single moment, you felt selfish enough to want him to close his eyes and stay there with you forever, nothing to worry about other than sleep and the surplus of love in your hearts.

“Me either, Jake.” You confessed, feeling him slowly withdraw from you. He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you into him. Turning towards him with a small smile decorating your lips, you hoped he knew how true it was.

“So,” he breathed, brushing your hair from your face so he could appreciate your beauty to the fullest extent “Is that it? Are we going to make this work?” You couldn’t help but laugh, a small giggle filling the air between you.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You nodded, your heart warm and your mind at ease. “I’m sorry I was so stupid. Just didn’t want to hurt you again.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He assured you, laying forward and placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. “If that’s the case—“ a mischievous smile sent your stomach fluttering with nervousness, but it was a feeling you had grown quite used to in his company. “Would you be my girlfriend, sunshine? Again? I promise we’ll do it right this time.”

“Think that goes hand in hand with making it work, don’t you think?” You teased, raising your hand to his face. You let your thumb trail over his cheek, trying to re-familiarize yourself with all of his intricacies.

“Never hurts to ask.” He let out a small chuckle, love shining in his eyes more than ever before, if it were even possible. “Is that a yes?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting to hear the words come straight from your mouth.

“Yes, Jake. I want to be your girlfriend… again.” You grinned, finding the words a bit silly considering you never once felt like you weren’t his in the first place.

Leaning forward and pulling you into a kiss, the enthusiasm in his action told you everything you needed to know about how happy he was to hear it.

As the two of you laid there, infinitely intertwined with each other in the very same bedroom it ended once before, you felt the world was beginning again—the birds were chirping, the flowers blooming, and the sun shining. The misery once housed within the walls had disappeared entirely, replaced instantly with all of the love you had held and locked up inside your heart for so long. The most precious part of it all was not the warmth within you, but the fact you knew he felt the same way, bright and shiny and new again, ready to start over and make up for the mistakes your younger selves made so long ago.

“Just because I’m leaving sunshine, doesn’t mean I want to let this go. I think you know by now, I’ll do anything to make it work. It’s gonna be hard, for a little while at least, but I promise we can figure it out.” He spoke slowly, carefully, like he was afraid to make a wrong move and ruin the progress the two of you had made. You wished you could assure him that it was alright, that you had grown up and calmed down, and that nothing could ever force you away from him again. You knew that words would not satisfy that fear, so instead you vowed to prove it to him, no matter how long it took.

“Me, too.” You hummed, your eyes heavy and ready for rest, feeling at home beside him. “Maybe back then the time was wrong, but you’re right. I found that box for a reason, and we’re here for a reason. The right decision isn’t supposed to hurt, and walking away from you hurts more than anything. I’m not letting you go again, Jake. I love you just as much as I did when I was eighteen, and I know it’s not going anywhere. No matter if you’re halfway across the world or right here beside me, this is worth fighting for.”

He did not respond, but his head on the pillow inched closer to yours, a silent show of agreement for all you had said. You had always been good at talking too much, and he was an expert in not talking enough, but it was a perfect balance for the two of you, only showcasing the million other ways the two of you equaled each other out. As silence fell between you again, comfortable and secure, you felt the heaviness of your eyes seep into your bones, weighing you down and melting you into the mattress below you. The softness of his breathing and the looseness of his arm draped over you let you know that he was succumbing to the same things, uncaring about anything in the world and just happy to be there with you.

And for the first time in a really long time, you didn’t care about a single thing, either. For the first time in a really long time, the tacky paint and the abhorrent pattern on your bedsheets, the creaky floorboards and the scent of lavender and vanilla, the chestnut dresser and the haunt of an overly familiar tune was not off putting to you—it was home again, and the credit could not go to the bones of the house, hidden behind plaster and drywall, nor the memories burrowed so deep within them or the familiarity of the place—it was because of him, the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest, loving you even amidst sleep, because it was the only thing he ever knew how to do.

If you had learned anything at all, it was that Jake always was and would forever be home to you, and that living would only ever feel right so long as he was there beside you.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @fleetingjake @outlinedingold

If I’m missing anyone, please please let me know! After so many months and so much mess, my docs are a nightmare and I seem to have misplaced my taglist for melodic memories. i love you all, and thanks for sticking around 🤍

[venerawrites]

Ooh my goodness I saw your post about Sasuke bringing back his S/O from the dead and the brainrot worms just immediately clocked in 😵‍💫 Please please give us a short fic about it! Specifically with the side effects//struggles of bringing someone back from the dead like memory loss, struggle to speak bc of either the previously mentioned memory loss or simple damage to their vocal cords (Ooor I mean, if you wanna go deep into angst bringing out the fact cognitive abilities being damaged at least for a while and the amount of pain they'd feel so they're dependent on him is also fair game)

Another fact that is just VERY angst filled is if they're brought back against their will but unless Sasuke let them go they're stuck there forever

I'll leave it up to you to decide how you wanna go about it though! thank u for your absolute god-like work as always! muah! 😚

author's note: Our brainrot worms must be in sync because the moment I saw your request, this fic basically 'wrote itself'! Thank you so much for the idea and I really hope I did your request justice! <3 <3

warnings: Sasuke is a bit yandere and maybe ooc, but isn't he always? ; death; revival; blood

Wanna know a secret?

People used to say that there was a never chance for me. That with everything that happened - the massacre, the lies, the hatred - I was always bound to become a monster. Poor little boy that witnessed the slaughter of his own family and spend years chasing the shadow of his brother, while slowly drowning in his own self-pity and anger.

But the truth is that it wasn't Itachi or Konoha that made me that way.

It was you.

You, who broke through the walls I've been building for years, leaving me raw and exposed. You, who believed that I could've been... should've been different. You gave me hope, you made me believe that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for me.

For us.

And suddenly you left me. All alone, like I always have been.

I know you are not going to like what I am about to do. If you were here, you would tell me that this isn't the way. That I am not the person I was before that I am making a mistake by trying to bring you back. You would look at me with those innocent eyes of yours, before lacing your fingers with mine and tell me that I have to let you go.

But you are not here, are you?

Not yet, at least.

And you know I can't let you go. Not now, not ever.

If the cost of having you in my arms again is my soul, I would pay it. If it means burning the world and the heavens, then so be it. I will destroy it all - time, death and everything that separates us - till nothing remains but you and me.

. . .

i.

"-Edu Tensei is the only way-"

The cold edge of Sasuke's blade pressing against his throat was enough of unspoken warning for the white-haired male to know this was not the right answer to the demand he had just received. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breathing without letting his composure crack.

This was far from the first time he found himself on the receiving end of Sasuke's anger. Yet this time it felt... different.

Kabuto has spend enough years with the Uchiha to understand how he worked. Despite his cold and stoic demeanor, he had always possessed a dangerously short fuse. The slightest provocation, especially if it was connected to his past, was enough to ignite an inferno of rage. The Yakushi man has observed his evolution firsthand - from a grumpy boy hungry for revenge to a deadly shinobi, who kept swinging back and forth on the edge of his crumbling sanity.

The ninja that stood before him was a version of Sasuke that he has never seen before. There was no fire behind his gaze, only empty, glowing voids, so cold that Kabuto couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. Unlike the last time he saw him during the war, he looked cold, calculated and controlled.

Too controlled for the white-haired man's liking.

"Sasuke, you have to understand there are limits-"

"I understand more than you think", Sasuke interrupted, his right eye glowing with the Sharingan, while his left one remained hidden, "If Edo Tensei is your only answer, then I have no use of you. You are wasting my time."

The blade was lifted only for a second from Kabuto's throat before it flew toward his Adam's apple. He felt the cold tip slicing his skin, a few drops of warm crimson red blood falling on the floor.

"Wait!", Kabuto blurted out, his head falling back against the wall in a desperate attempt to create some distance between his body and the sword.

Sasuke's hand immediately stopped, but the cold metal did not move away from the cut it has created. Instead, it stayed in place, getting painted in red, while Sasuke his head in a silent command for Kabuto to speak.

"There may be another way...", the Yakushi gulped, his voice barely above a whisper. The Uchiha leaned forward, his only visible eye narrowing just the slightest as he studied the older man's face.

Looking at him almost two years after their last battle, Sasuke felt the bitter taste of anger and desperation mixing in his mouth. How could Kabuto, of all people, be the only person who could help him bring you back? The idea of having his sleazy hands touching your body, experimenting on it... The mere image of him being close to you made him naseous.

Yet he was the one who came here and demanded help. Much to his displeasure, he had no one else to turn to. Orochimaru had left the village, but even if he was here, it was the case that his student has surpassed him long time ago.

"I am giving you ten seconds to explain, before I slash your throat and hang you on this wall to bleed out."

The threat was clear and final, making Kabuto nod his head in a weak agreement. Once the blade was removed from his throat, his fingers immediately moved to touch the cut from which there were still dripping red drops. He pressed his hand against his neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding, while his mind rushed through different possibilities of how to handle the situation.

On one hand, just like Sasuke, he was pardoned for his crimes and was given a second chance to rebuild his life in Konoha. He was a carer in the local orphanage and for the first time since he could remember, he felt somewhat... satisfied. It wasn't his dream job, but it was a job and it was the first step to clearing his image.

On the other hand, he was wise enough not to underestimate the things an Uchiha is ready to do, especially in the name of love.

"It is not a technique I've ever tried before...", Kabuto finally said, his fingers tightening around his throat, "It is a theory I was working on right before the war started. It goes beyond a simple reanimation and unlike Edo Tensei, it does not have any limitation. Once they are back... they will be fully back."

"Fully back...", Sasuke repeated, testing the words on his tongue. The snake-like man in front of him nodded his head, his free hand lifting up to fix the glasses on the tip of his nose.

"With their own will, thoughts and emotions", Kabuto confirmed, one of his eyebrows raising just the slightest, "It will be as if their death never happened. But.."

"But what?", he snapped through gritted teeth. Of course, nothing was ever simple or straightforward with the white-haired shinobi. For all the knowledge and skills he had, he never made anything easy, even when he was serving other people in the past. And while he successfully managed to convince Konoha he has changed, Sasuke had enough experience living and training with him to know the truth.

A snake will always be a snake.

And the mere fact he didn't seem to even try to convince him not to meddle with the world of the dead, was enough of a sigh that his heart remain to be just as dark as it was in the past.

"Like I said, this technique works only in theory", Kabuto said slowly, his gaze moving between the two different eyes of the Uchiha in front of him, "The person that comes back may not... be the one they were before. It may also have consequences not only on them, but on everything and everyone around. Disturbing the natural flow of life like this-"

Sasuke clicked his tongue, his mouth twisting into a displeased frown.

"I didn't come to you to listen to half-hearted warnings and lectures on balance of nature", he snapped impatiently, "Do it or I will find someone else who will - and you know well enough what that means for you."

Almost as if to prove the seriousness behind his threat, the blade pressed itself against Kabuto's throat once again, before moving to the side, successfully cutting a fine line against all four knuckles of the his fingers that were still pressed against his first wound. The man let out a loud hiss, his hand jerking away instinctively.

"I will need time to prepare", he muttered, his jaw clenching in a weak attempt to try and keep his mind away from the stinging pain, "Two days at least."

Sasuke let out a small 'hm' sound, his brain processing the proposed timeline. Every ticking moment without you already felt like a whole eternity passing. Two days was too much, especially since it involved the risk of Kabuto deciding to share his demand with other people. Not that he didn't plan to deal with Konoha soon enough for what they did, but now, for the first time, there was another priority other than revenge - and that was you.

"You have one", he said with finality, before turning around and starting to walk away.

One day. Even for a man who was used to deal with challenging situations and impossible deadlines, this was hard to achieve. Kabuto watched the Uchiha's retreating figure, his chest and head both feeling heavy with the realisation of what he is about to do.

. . .

ii.

From a far, you looked peacefully asleep. The moonlight that managed to find its way into the room was reflecting through the glass that covered your body, pale highlights dancing across your face and chest. Your fingers were crossed on top of your chest and for a second, Kabuto could swear he could see it moving up and down, as if you were breathing.

He blinked once. Then twice. Yet the illusion did not repeat itself.

He made a few cautious steps toward the see-through casket in the centre on the small hall, his eyes narrowing as he got a better view of your body. Your flawless skin, your carefully combed hair, your neat kimono - Sasuke's determination to bring you back the way he remembered you was clear in every detail. Kabuto had no idea how the dark-haired male did it, or even from where he got such precise knowledge about body preservation, but the sight in front of him was a pure imitation of life.

Almost flawless.

"Is that your work?", he quietly asked, his voice ringing with notes of both admiration and wariness. He kept his distance, his eyes scanning every inch of visible skin, searching for any signs of mistakes in the Uchiha's method. There were none. No signs of decomposing, decay or any imperfections. Putting aside the fact that your skin looked paler than it should be, the sight in front of him was a perfect replica of you, completely untouched by time.

Faint footsteps sounded behind him and he turned his head only to see Sasuke approaching the casket from the other side. He didn't pay any attention to Kabuto, as his gaze was focused on you, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes traced every line of your peaceful expression, before his only hand lifted and placed itself on top of the cold glass, right above your face. His fingers twitched, slowly dragging themselves down, as if he was trying to reach out and cradle your cheek.

"It is", he finally responded, his voice unusually calm and almost... soft? Kabuto looked at him with unease, before he moved his attention back to you.

If he was scared of Sasuke yesterday when he had his blade pressed against his throat, he was both terrified and baffled now. It was no secret the Uchiha harboured deep feelings for you - he had met you right before the war and since then he always tried his best to keep you away from harm, even during the times he was one of the most wanted criminals by every Hidden Village. You had been his pillar of support and light through the darkest times of his lives - from his pursuit of revenge on his brother to the brutal realisation of all the lies he has been told through the years. Even during the war, his main motivation was not so much to prove himself as capable leader for Konoha, than keep you save.

Ironically, he actually succeeded. He managed to keep you sheltered from all the horrors and blood the ninja world had to offer. Shortly after he was pardoned, he brought you back to his home village, much to the surprise of all of his fellow shinobi. He never introduced you as officially 'his', but everyone knew you were holding a great significance for him. You were not only his save haven, you were everything - his home, his purpose, his future...

All till the day some Leaf ninjas took you away.

It was Sasuke's fault, really. He knew that the past could not be erased, yet he foolishly believed he may be given the chance to start anew. The wounds he had inflicted to both the village and the people there were wide open and despite the years and his actions during the war, they never truly healed. Beneath the surface of the reluctant acceptance he had received by all the villagers, there was mistrust that changed his whole life in just a few seconds.

He remembered the event quite vividly, despite his attempts to erase it from his mind. Every waking moment it haunted him like a nightmare, clutching its claws into his body and soul and refusing to let go...

You laughing in the kitchen, while he watched you with admiration from the kitchen table, his fingers nervously playing with the small ring box in his pocket.

The two shadows which crossed across the wall almost too fast for him to react.

Sounds of broken glass. Table and chairs thrown to the side.

The sound of his name leaving your lips before you threw yourself behind his body, a chocked out gasp leaving your lips once the sword meant for him pierced your chest.

The way his heart stopped inside his chest, his hand moving almost automatically as he brought the last remaining intruder down before he collapsed next to your body.

Your lifeless eyes, who continued to stare at him, a small tear escaping from one corner and landing in his trembling palm.

Kabuto watched as Sasuke shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. The Uchiha casted one last glance to you, before he clenched his jaw and stepped away from the casket. His steps were rushed and urgent, showing his desperation to pull away from the the memory of that day and his failure to keep you safe.

Silence filled the room and for a while the snake-like man could not hear anything but his own breathing. While not one famous for showing sympathy, there was the tiniest spark of pity inside his eyes as he watched the broken man before him. It was then he understood it didn't matter what he said or how much he warned him about the potential risks involved.

Sasuke Uchiha, the man who was always been swaying on the delicate edge between reasonableness and insanity, has officially lost himself to the latter.

All because of you.

"We need a sacrifice", Kabuto finally said, his body moving toward the small table in the corner, where he left his bag earlier, "A life for a life. You did an outstanding job with preserving their body, but again I cannot guarantee what the side effects may be-"

"You will have your sacrifice by the end of the night", Sasuke interrupted, his usual cold and collected composure back in place. Before the white-haired shinobi could say anything else, he was left alone with the chilling feeling of two cold eyes staring right at his back.

. . .

iii.

The first thing you felt was the cold.

Not just in the air around you - it was inside your skin, creeping its way through your veins. The feeling was if you were being chewed alive, yet once you tried to open your mouth, you found unable to move. Your limbs felt heavy, the muscles - unable to respond. Your mind was slowly crawling its way out of the dizziness, yet your body refused to respond.

Then, you heard it - the faint sound of something moving on top of you and then a muffled voice saying something. You tried to focus on it, forcing your senses to sharpen. The words started to sound clearer and clearer till eventually your brain grasped them.

"Open your eyes."

The words echoed around you, ringing inside your head as you tried your best to do as told. The coldness inside of you felt like a heavy anchor which kept pulling you down while you desperately tried to break through the surface. The voice kept repeating the same thing over and over, becoming louder and clearer.

Suddenly, almost as if a bolt of electricity ran through your spine, your body jolted, your chest raising high in the air as you gasped for air. Your lungs felt like they were on fire as they expanded, the painful sensation spreading through your chest as you chocked in the mix of a saliva and cold air.

Something warm pressed against your cheek and it took you a good minute to realise it was someone's hand. Your eyelids, despite still feeling like stones on your face, fluttered open only to be met with a piercing and blinding white light coming from somewhere above you. Everything felt so distant and muted, as if you were waking up from a dream that has lasted all eternity.

The hand on your face moved, its touch gentle as you felt it cupping your jaw. You blinked rapidly against the harsh brightness, the world around you slowly emerging out of blurriness as a face came into focus above you.

A man. Tall, with sharp features and straight black locks reaching his shoulders. Only one of his eyes was visible, black like onyx and staring at you intensively. He had a few days stubble covering his chin and cheeks, while dark bags decorated the area under his eyes.

Who the hell was that?

And why was he looking at you like that?

You tried to open your mouth, but no sound came out as all you could do is let out a quiet gasp. The man's expression shifted slightly, a spark of concern flashing though his tired face. His fingers moved down from your chin, across one of your arms, before taking your hand in his. The longer he remained touching you, the more panicked your attempts to breathe became.

"It's alright", he murmured softly, his dark brows furrowing as he watched you struggle beneath him, "Just focus on breathing. Everything is alright."

Everything, however, was not alright.

Sasuke watched you eyes flicking between him and your surroundings, the feeling of panic evident in the way your chest rose and fell erratically. He could feel your fingers tensing under his while you slowly started to get control of your limbs, achieving nothing more but a few stirs. The expression on your face, however, was what hurt the most - it was one of pure fear and terror, almost like the day they took you away from him.

"Shh, stay calm", he whispered, yet his words seemed to have the opposite effect as he noticed your weak attempt to squirm away. His jaw clenched as he watched you struggling to come back fully to your senses.

Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

Of course, Kabuto has warned him that there will be side effects. That you may be disorientated at first and have problem with moving on your own. He expected you not to remember certain things, like the day you were killed of even some minor events from your life. What he didn't predict, however, was the possibility that you may not remember anything, including him.

His hand withdrew from yours and he casted a fiery glare at Kabuto who was sitting in the corner of the room, rapidly writing something on a piece of paper.

"You said you could bring them FULLY back."

The white-haired ninja did not look up immediately, instead focusing in finishing the report he had started once he saw the first signs of life appearing. In any other event he would probably give more of his energy in addressing the Uchiha's rising anger, however now he felt like he was the one with an advantage. Sasuke may be one of the strongest shinobi alive, but he had nothing on Kabuto's knowledge and skills, especially when it came to the delicate science of reanimation. His experience as the best student of Orochimaru and the man who managed to perfect jutsus like Edu Tensei gave him a dangerous sense of confidence, even in the face of a heartbroken lover who was ready to do anything to bring their soulmate back.

"I did", Kabuto said at last, his voice unusually calm as he attached the pen to the top of the paper before putting it away, "I also told you there will be side effects and you need to be patient. Not that it has ever been your strong suit..."

Sasuke let out a small scoff, his lips curling in disdain as he got to his feet and starting walking toward the other man. The urge to trap him in a genjutsu and force him to experience every single horror he had ever inflicted on other people was growing like a wildfire inside of his chest. Perhaps it was even a fitting punishment for a monster like him, way more deserving to be trapped in a cycle of his own sins than allowed to live peacefully working in an orphanage.

The Uchiha stopped a mere foot from the desk, his fist clenching by his side in an attempt to stop himself for reaching out and doing something he may regret later.

"Fix it."

Kabuto lazily lifted his eyes, one if his eyebrows rising slightly above his glasses.

"Fix it?", he repeated unimpressed, "You speak as if I am a handyman fixing an object. This is a human we are speaking about--"

The words seemed to strike a cord and Sasuke's hand shot forward, slamming onto the desk right next to Kabuto's head. His breathing was sharp and uneven, his anger radiating from every fiber of his being.

"You don't get to act all high and mighty, Kabuto. We have been knowing each other a little too long and a little too well for you to pretend that you can actually consider a person as anything other than an experiment."

Kabuto froze, his eyes instinctively shifting toward you and meeting your gaze. From where you were laying, the scene looked almost like a distorted dream. You heard voices, yet you couldn't understand what were they saying. The fear continued to run inside your veins like a paralyzing venom, leaving you completely helpless in the company of these two unknown men.

The truth was that Kabuto did not care about Sasuke. In fact, given everything he has done, it served him more than right to lose you and rot in guilt and grief all his life. But Kabuto had to agree that he had a right - maybe he was not the best person to be giving him a lecture of the difference between an 'object' and a 'human'. After all, in his eyes they were all the same.

But not you.

You were special. Different. You were not just a mere experiment, far from it actually. You were the culmination of everything he had worked for, the result of years spend in studying, experimenting, theorizing and manipulating. You were the proof he achieved what every great scientist had longed for - a way to cheat death. Completely.

Of course, he wouldn't leave the job half done. Not when he was so close to perfecting his greatest achievement. In his mind, he couldn't even think of the last time he felt so excited and so... alive. Whatever reservations he had because of Sasuke or his recent pardon by Konoha were now forgotten. Instead, all he could see was you. Breathing, blinking, looking around. Your existence defied nature and he felt a strange satisfaction knowing he had achieved what everyone else, even Orochimaru, deemed impossible. It was all way too different from any type of reanimation he tried before.

"The connection between their body and soul is still fragile", Kabuto finally muttered, his golden eyes still locked with yours. Slowly, he stood up from his seat, moving around the dark-haired Uchiha as he approached you. His steps were quiet and measured, as if he was trying not to scare you even more. Tilting his head to the side, he found himself in a strange trance.

"It's a delicate balance, the one of life and death. It can easily tip, especially when one lack patience and appreciation of this beautiful process. I told you this is not just attaching a soul to a vessel, it's about understanding and repairing the bond that connects them. It's about creating a..."

He knelt beside you, his face just centimeters from yours. Edu Tensei has always given these void and empty black eyes to the subjects it revived, an ugly imperfection that reminded that they were not truly alive. But yours... They were just like they were supposed to be when you were alive. Despite being unfocused, there was a spark of life in them.

"... miracle."

As Kabuto finished his sentence he reached out to touch your face, before his wrist was harshly grabbed by Sasuke.

"Don't touch them!"

The air in the room seemed to suddenly grow tenser as you watched the two men hovering above you. Any trace of softness that Kabuto's expression held till now disappeared as he furrowed his brows, his snake-like gaze turning toward Sasuke.

"I fear your demand may be unreasonable, Uchiha. I can't help them, if I am- "

"Your job is to figure out a way to fix your failure and finish the job I asked you to do", Sasuke interrupted impatiently, his grip tightening, "You can do that from your desk."

Kabuto tilted his head, his jaw clenching as he held his ground in the little staring contest he found himself in. After a minute, he roughly pulled his hand, before taking a step back.

"Very well then."

Without another word, he returned to his desk and started to gather the scattered tools he had left in a disarray earlier. He could feel two pairs of eyes burning at the back of his neck, but he refused to acknowledge any of them.

'Such a strong body, yet such a foolish mind', he thought as he put everything in one corner and then simply turned around toward the door. Once again, Sasuke has proved himself incapable of understanding, let alone appreciating, the power of science and what one can achieve with it. Instead he remained a big strong brute, driven by impulse and incapable to open his mind to all the wonders in his world.

As he stepped out of the room, Kabuto glanced back one last time over his shoulder, his golden eyes focusing on yours. He gave you a small smile, almost a friendly one, before shutting the door behind him.

. . .

iv.

The following weeks were like an eternal nightmare, from which neither of you could wake up.

Every day blended into the next, leaving nothing behind by growing frustration and thinning remains of patience. Time felt frozen in this place, as if all three of you were trapped in a constant loop.

For you, the world was a blur - everything was new, yet somewhat familiar. Even the small things, such as walking or playing with your hands, felt foreign and out of place. It was almost like you got into a foreign body and you were left with no choice but to learn how to work with it. It took a full week for you to gain full control over your body, but when you did, it still felt like an insignificant progress.

And what if you could walk, run and do everything you were doing before when your mind remained a dark fog with no clear direction or sense of self? Fractured images kept flashing before your eyes every now and again, leaving you more and more confused. Some felt like memories - stuff that actually has happened once upon a time - but some felt like nothing more than a dream your brain has created in attempt to escape the boringness.

On the other hand, Sasuke was always around. He slept in one room with you, he took you out so you can breathe some fresh air during the day, he brought you food, books and random trinkets to entertain yourself. He rarely kept his distance, and even when he was, you could feel his watchful gaze on the back of your head.

At first, he terrified you. His energy was dark, even sinister in a way. Yet you couldn't help but feel a strange feeling of a familiarity. Sometimes, when you thought he was not looking, you glanced at his profile, studying his face and trying to put the puzzle pieces together of who is he to you. He was a cold man, rarely talking or even responding when you asked him questions, yet he always hovered protectively over you.

And then there was Kabuto. A total opposite of Sasuke.

He was nice - always gently smiling at you, asking if you are okay. There was always a strange softness in his eyes, one that you wouldn't expect from a man with snake-like features like himself. Sometimes he would catch you by yourself and he would make the time to sit down and chat. Most of the time it was about mundane things - the weather, random interesting facts and when he was in a good mood, stories from his past. It took a while for you to be able to reply given your throat burned like an inferno every time you tried to produce any sound during the first week, but slowly you started to respond. At first it was by short words such as "yes", "no" and "do/don't", but soon you started to form full sentences till you relaxed enough to even laugh at some of his silly jokes.

Yet, despite his gentleness and understanding, your inner instinct was screaming at you to be careful. You couldn't tell exactly what, but something with him was ... off. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on you too long for your liking or the way his smiling mask quickly shifted into something more sinister when he thought you were not paying attention, but something was making your skin crawl every time he was near you and Sasuke was not.

"What is the relationship between you and Kabuto? Are you... friends?", you asked one night, breaking the peaceful silence that had settle between you and Sasuke. He was sitting on the opposite chair of you, calmly reading a scroll while your attention was focused on the playful dance of the flames in the fireplace.

Sasuke didn't look up immediately, instead using the extra minute to gather his thoughts before he lifted his eyes toward you. His expression remained blank, as it always was around you, but you could see the slightest tension of his shoulder muscles.

"Allies", the answer felt somewhat dishonest as he remained staring at you, "For now."

Picking the strands of the soft rug under your fingers, you searched his face, expecting him to provide a further explanation. Like always, such explanation never came. Instead, his focus returned to the scroll in his hands, his eyes dancing across the piece of paper as he pretended to be very invested in what was written in it.

"But you don't trust him, do you?"

The man snorted at your assumption and you immediately took it as confirmation of what you have suspected. The two have never outright fought in front of you, but there was always a certain tension in the room when both of them were in it. Sasuke always seemed to move closer to you when Kabuto was nearby, his lonely hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to react at any given moment.

"Trustworthiness and usefulness usually do not go hand in hand", he said finally, his eyes boring into yours as he started to carefully roll the scroll. You kept your gaze locked with his, unsure what he meant by his answer. It was clear that the the 'usefulness' was somehow connected to you but you still couldn't make a real sense of it. No matter how many times you asked either Sasuke or Kabuto why were you being kept here and why you were subject to so many tests and 'treatments', you were always met with the same answer : "Don't worry about it, it will all come back to you."

"What happens when he is no longer useful?", you asked as you watched him get up from his chair and walk over to the small bed in the corner of the room. While his constant presence around you bothered you at first, you appreciated that he kept some form of distance unlike Kabuto who often was too close to you for your comfort.

For a moment, you thought Sasuke would ignore your question entirely as he just started arranging his blankets and pillow, not showing any interest toward your questioning.

"Then he will be dealt with."

Deep inside you knew that his words should make you feel uncomfortable, worried even. Kabuto has always been kind to you, and it sometimes even felt like he cared for you, in his own strange way. If it wasn't for him, you may still be laying on that cold metal table you woke up on, unable to move or speak.

Yet you couldn't ignore the feeling deep inside your gut that there was a reason for Sasuke's warning. You felt guilty questioning the white-haired male's intentions, but you couldn't shake the feeling he was looking at you as an object opposed to a human. He has been very open to you - he had told you up quite a lot about his own past, including his experiments with people - but instead of appreciating his honesty, you found yourself fearing him. Perhaps this is why you found yourself trying to stay attached to Sasuke's side more often.

Or maybe it was because of these damn flashing images that keep popping in your mind.

Recently they have been coming more and more often. Sometimes they came and went so quickly, it was impossible to catch them. Other times, the lingered, dragging you into a world of unfamiliar faces, places and events. Every time you tried to make sense of them, put them in some kind of order in your mind, they kept blending, creating an even thicker fog of confusion in your head.

You never told Sasuke or Kabuto about it. With so much conflicting emotions and hidden motives, it was hard to tell which one you could trust and which one you could not. One thing you knew for sure - none of the two men were entirely honest. Sasuke, with his cold and collected behaviour, was surely knowing way more than he was letting on about who you were and how did you end up in this labyrinth of broken memories and sense of self. The kind gestures of Kabuto, on the other hand, felt almost disturbing as his eyes followed you like a pray around the hideout.

You were trapped in a rabbit hole of questions, falling deeper and deeper every time a new face or place popped in your mind. The only certainty you had that in this place you had only person you could trust - you. And you had to do everything in your power to get yourself out.

. . .

v.

One moment you were gazing at an old photograph, your brows crunched in confusion, the next one you were on your knees, your hand muffling the loud sobs that threatened to leave your lips.

The image you held in your hands was not one you've seen for the first time. In fact, you have seen it countless of times during your stay here. You have found it accidentally under Sasuke's pillow one day when you were cleaning around the room and while you never asked him about it, you periodically reached out for it, studying it. You were in the middle of it - lips stretched in a wide grin and eyes closed, while a small key was dangling from your pointing finger. Right behind you was Sasuke - his hair just a little bit shorter than now, showing his mismatching eyes who looked directly down at you. His lips were curved into a soft smile, while hand gripped the side of your stomach.

You had reached the conclusion that you and Sasuke were in some form of relationship a long time ago. Were you simply lovers or something more serious? Were you married? Did you had kids? You didn't know, but you were sure the little glances that he threw your way now and the way he was constantly hovering over you was not things a casual boyfriend would do. So it wasn't the image of you two that triggered this intense reaction in you.

It was the window behind you in the photograph.

The small wooden kitchen window, to which you have not paid any mind till now, but now you couldn't look away from it. The same window you were facing while you were putting away the dishes the day you...

died.

Your knees buckled after you as suddenly you were hit with ton of forgotten memories. One after the other, they kept filling your brain with a rapid speed, making you grip your head with both hands in attempt to stop it all.

Inaho Village. Your parents and brother. Bloodshed.

Growing up with your grandma. Healing lessons. Fire.

Sasuke. Sneaking around before the war.

Moving in together after the war. Konoha.

Death.

.

You were supposed to be dead.

The sudden realisation made your head spin and you fell on your bottom, your eyes filling with tears. The memories kept coming, your tears kept flowing and you could swear time froze.

For how long have you been sitting on this cold, bare floor? It may be a minute, it may be an hour. Or even two.

The sound of a door opening caught your attention and you lifted red, puffy eyes only to meet the shocked ones of your lover.

"Sasuke, what have you done?"

cc artwork: Leo Pold

[dairyfreenugget]

I could count the amount of original stories of mine that don't have horror elements on one hand and idk what that says about me

[punctuation-completionist]

how do you feel about the ‘apostrophe is a letter’ argument

'

1/22

i mean i just don't think it is i suppose? i haven't really heard that argument all that much, i just think the apostrophe is a stand-in to indicate abbreviation rather than a letter in its own right.

i think if we were to get down to the nitty gritty it is phonetically a letter (or at least the glottal stop is) (but apparently in the ipa the glottal stop looks like this ʔ so that's something) and in languages like hawaiian and samoan that use a latin alphabet but are polynesian, the glottal stop (or ʻokina) is very much a letter and that's clear cut, but in english i wouldn't say it is (also technically it is a different symbol than just the apostrophe but it also looks very similar so i think it should be included in this conversation)

anyways tl;dr i guess, i wouldn't say it is in english but it's slightly more nuanced than that if we leave english

[confettiibunny]

ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ!ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ʜᴄs ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

Nanami editors on TikTok are cooking a little too hard and now they got me all soppy about him ☹️

🎀 Husband!Nanami who’s manages to quell every single one of your outbursts without letting the situation scale into an argument. His way of approaching any relationship issues is just so inexplicably healthy, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Whether you’re panicking, lashing out, or even crying he is present. Anything you have to say tumbles out of your mouth and when you’re done, his arms do all the talking as he tugs you close, rocking you back and forth in a soothing motion. All your emotions fizz away and you’re left a mushy mess in his arms, sniffling and nodding your head as he finally starts to talk you into calming down.

🌼 Husband!Nanami who is a big believer in spoiling you. Your hair is always glossy, your skin seems to glow from within, and your nails and clothes are nothing short but impeccable. But he also believes in spoiling you rotten with love. He has to hold you when it’s just you two alone, sitting you in his lap as his hands keep a reassuring grasp on your hips. And as you cling your arms around his neck and press your nose against his pulse, the world is quiet and peaceful and you feel like you’re falling in love all over again.

🎀 Husband!Nanami who is a sucker for feeling you scratch his back. It sounds a little strange but after a stressful day of work, all he wants is to strip down and flop onto the bed, knowing that you’ll always appear and give him what he wants. You insist on doing this anyways, settling your body on his lower back and raking your freshly manicured nails down his back to elicit rewarding little sounds from him. Low groans, gentle sighs, and cooes of “love you, baby” leave his lips and make their way to your ears, making you feel all fuzzy inside.

🌼 Husband!Nanami who lets you do makeup on him during his days off. Perched in his lap with him back against the headboard, you carefully curl his lashes before applying an even coat of mascara to his stubborn lashes. It’s not much makeup but it honestly suits him well; a cushion foundation, some concealer for his under eyes, and cheek and lip tint, and mascara. The fact your husband was so comfortable within his own skin and masculinity that you could doll him up so cutely made you giggle like a fool. And once you finish the everyday look, he’s so quick to ask about all the products and techniques you used with genuine care for what you have to say.

🎀 Husband!Nanami who slowly but surely becomes a biter. It all started when you tried to bite his cheeks while cuddling, only to pout when you nearly hit into his cheekbones. Of course he had to return to favor and nibbled on the squish of your cheeks, making you burst into laughter and squeals. From then on he’s expanded, leaving purplish love bites upon your chest and when you’re both feeling a little cheeky, on your collarbone and neck as well. It makes him flush with a little shame when he thinks about it, but the silent display of possessive affection never fails to leave him grinning like a child when he’s alone.

🌼 Husband!Nanami who has a photo of you everywhere and makes it known to anyone asking that yes, that lovely lady is his wife. His lock screen is a snapshot of your hands after a spa nail, pretty pink nails and a golden band that is your wedding ring. There's a small pic of you in his wallet from the times you were just starting to date, caught in a frenzied laughter after being told a joke. Ooh, and if anyone asks who you are after seeing such photos of you, he’ll say with all his chest “that’s my wife in these photos. I love her very much,” all while having a rare smile in public on his face.

🎀 Husband!Nanami who loves you like there’s no tomorrow. Who holds your hand everywhere outside and watches over you with critical eyes, glaring at anyone who even remotely gives you a strange look. He’s a man that drags out every kiss, a hand on your neck as he gently groans into your mouth. Who hugs you so tightly you feel like you’re about to burst at the seams, thick and burly forearms encircling your waist as you snuggle against his chest. This is where you belong, the both of you: nestled in each other in a heart-to-heart embrace.

[prickly-paprikash]

Pushing aside the fact that I am, quite possibly, a Kendrick fan—disregarding my biases, I think Drake needs to stop. Push Ups was a good diss. Surface level, vapid, but it possessed that mean, petty spirit that carries a diss track all the way. Even bringing up accusations that are, realistically speaking, unlikely still works because a diss is supposed to show just how much you hate a person and how cleverly you can bring it.

Taylor Made was weird. I get that it was a strategy. Drop the main diss first and then drop this one to really prod at Kendrick. Using Pac and Snoop AI voices sucks though. Distilling Kendrick as Taylor's underling also doesn't work because Kendrick only collaborated with her once (twice when they remade Bad Blood) and that's it. Meanwhile Drake is out here always looking for new, up and coming artists to pounce on their trends or cling to established artists. Then it got taken down, because of course it would have been. You used 2Pac's voice. Did you really think his estate, his family, wouldn't do anything?

So he bought Pac's ring and used his voice without permission. More and more we see just how much of a vulture Drake is.

And then Euphoria drops.

Your first diss was met with solid reactions. Your second got taken down. Kendrick drops on a random hot Tuesday, and in a matter of hours surpasses your numbers that took weeks to accumulate. Kendrick did that. Euphoria was also harsh, clever, and sounded so good that people kept replaying it over and over again. Once more, Kendrick schools you.

A few insiders then say that Drake will drop that night. Right after. But he then allegedly gets cold feet. A few hours later from when Drake was supposedly ready to drop but backs out, Kendrick drops 6:16 in LA.

In your previous disses, you begged Kendrick to drop something with quintuple entendres. Euphoria did that. But he took it a step further by naming his second diss 6:16 in LA.

June 16: Father's day. Referencing the fact that Drake has been proven to be a deadbeat father.

June 16, 1971: Tupac's Birthday. Kendrick idolizes him. Drake steals from him.

June 16, 2019: First episode of Euphoria drops. A show Drake is listed as a producer on. A show about underage girls entering a life of sex, substance abuse, and more. Things that Drake has been accused of repeatedly in the past.

June 16, 2011: in June 2, 2011, Kendrick posted on his twitter that there will be a concert at Toronto on 6/16. Allegedly this is where Drake and Kendrick first met.

6:16 AM: The time of release for this track.

6:16: Multiple possible Bible verses, given Kendrick's Christian background.

Other claims felt like reaches though, so I'll stick to that.

The final two lines of 6:16 also reference the Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and their song "You Are Not Alone". Drake, who has always claimed he is Michael Jackson or at the very least his equal/successor, is now tied to him in a way he does not want. Because we know all of the dirt that came out after MJ's death. We all know what R. Kelly was sent to prison for. And we all know what Drake has been accused of multiple times.

Kendrick also alludes to the fact that you have a leak in your circle, Drake.

So Drake drops Family Matters. A scathing 7 minute song that makes fun of the GKMC van. Saying that Kendrick's daughter isn't his. Saying that his wife cheats on him with security. Saying that he beats his wife.

Now, these are enormous accusations levied. But Kendrick has responded before, years ago, that the DV accusations were false. He has also always been open about his faults. Adultery. Sex addiction. Insecurity. God complex. Kendrick, for better or worse, has always laid out nearly every aspect of his younger life on his songs. This also helped by the fact that in both Euphoria and 6:16, Kendrick says that Drake has spent millions on finding dirt on him but came up with nothing. Again, these accusations can still be proven true and if so, Kendrick needs to be held accountable for them.

But if not? Then Drake just adds another to the pile of "He's a liar and a master manipulator."

Drake also posts a Parody on his Insta that gains little to no attention because 30 minutes after dropping Family Matters and supposedly going on his victory lap, Kendrick drops meet the grahams.

Another thing. 6:16's cover was a glove. That meant nothing to us, the audience. meet the grahams makes it make sense by zooming out of the glove and showing off a shirt and drugs that Drake supposedly uses. Drake has not had any receipts with his accusations against Kendrick. Kendrick puts Drake's supposed prescription, his full name, on a bottle of Ozempic. Kendrick, for now, seems to make good on his threat. OvO, Drake's company, is full of leaks. And they're leaking it straight to Kendrick Lamar.

Nearly 24 hours later, Kendrick drops Not Like Us.

Euphoria was a general character dissection and assassination of Drake: Insecure about his identity as a biracial man. Culture Vulture. Blaccent user. Code switcher. Fake abs. Womanizer. Misogynist. Using black features just to feel black enough. A deadbeat dad that knows nothing of raising a child. And even revokes Drake's ability to use the N-Word (I have no stake in that I am Asian so I will keep my brown mouth shut for that).

6:16 in LA was an ominous threat that slowly reveals that Kendrick has insider information on Drake. That he is ready to leak so much more should Drake continue.

meet the grahams is a brutal open letter to Drake, his parents, and even to Adonis, Drake's son. Saying that Kendrick could be a better mentor to Adonis. Saying that Drake abandoned you and that's not your fault. Don't be like your father—whatever anyone says, for better or worse, you are a black man and don't code switch just to make yourself feel better. He says that Drake failed his mother for what he did to women. Saying that Drake's father is the cause of his gambling issues. Drake is a body shamer. Leaving the mother of his children to rot. And of course, the reveal that Drake has a secret daughter, the same way Pusha T revealed Drake has a son. Adonis.

And of course, now. Not Like Us. Where Kendrick goes all in on one topic that he has alluded to in every diss track before. Drake is a groomer. A pedophile.

I am sick. I should not be tuning into this beef. But my fever can go ahead and end me, I need to know how this ends.

[sugudoe]

☕️⌇ ◜ OFFICE HOURS ◞ ⠀⠀⠀

╰⠀boss!nanami x secretary!reader where . . . nanami kento can’t let people know the reality that he, under no circumstances, belongs to them. in fact, is quite the contrarie. everyone in this job is a puppet willingly letting him pull the strings. you more than anyone. after committing the bizarre mistake of telling nanami your true intentions with him, your boss is more than eager to comply your desires and just maybe, forget he first input of no belongings.

cw. too much swearing, fingering with others present (not caught), fem!reader, reader keeps daydreaming w. nanami, slightly age gap but non-important all legal, public sex, overstimulation, they both keep failing to hide, possessiveness, love bites, he slap her thigh once, bit of blood because of self lip biting 4.9k words, english is not my first language.

an. hi, hello, i want everyone to know i’m this man wife. this is, in fact, our love story, i used to serve his coffee, now i’m serving my puss— anyways, enjoy it. FYI nanami smells like either tom ford tobacco vanille or byredo bibliothèque.

There are certain events in the workplace ── a sequence, if you may ── that serves as a warning to everyone that Mr. Nanami Kento has arrived.

Not many months ago, you were clueless to the symphony of presentation he had, even before stepping into the room. Now, though, it’s engraved in your mind. Much like he is. It is, also, a dirty secret to have that you eagerly wait for it, everyday.

Halting the tack-tack of your fingers on the keyboard, your ears pick the first signal ── rushed footsteps. All opening space so he can pass without the need to raise his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, from his cellphone. The second is the whispers and swooning. Some, more brave than others, compliment him out loud. Always about his peculiar ties, and always he smiles back. Lastly, when Nanami is in your sight of view, he is accompanied by his signature scent that greets you before he even does.

The most raw way to describe his smell is by saying that you wish you could crack him open, and lay inside of him forever. It’s comfortable and addicting and it makes you want to kiss him until it can permanently fixates on you.

In more proper synonyms, Nanami Kento smells like caramel, wood and a bit smokey. He is hot to the touch, one can admit. You don’t fall far from these thoughts, but sometimes, when you are not eye-fucking your boss, you think he smells like a cozy cabin in the woods.

Perfect place to fuck him, though.

Is easy to imagine such a thing. You can picture him with thick sweat covering his body, like a second layer, as he comes inside with a hatchet and wood for the fireplace. And you can, also easily, imagine yourself on your knees sucking him so good, as way to thank him for keeping you warm.

It’s a Kento effect. Everywhere he passes, people tend to have a heat stroke. You are no better than the others. Probably worse. He, however, does not need to know that. Nanami’s plate is already filled to the brims with people gazing him as a snack, he doesn’t need his personal assistant to do the same.

Not in front of him, anyways.

So, when he comes near your table, and stop to take whatever you have for him (work related, honey, even when you wish it was your pussy), you present the calls he need to answer with a compliment for his shoes and a black coffee with pretzels.

He adores you.

You want to fuck him senseless.

A perfect imperfect balance of clashing feelings. His are professional, yours are not even close. He only steps over the boundaries when it’s to call you “Darling” and you only do so in your head, when you think of laying on his table and letting him feast on your dripping cunt.

He is gentle and caring.

You wouldn’t mind chanting his name loud enough for everyone to understand what’s happening.

He departs ways and you share a trembling sigh with your inner turmoil of emotions. He makes you have a constant fever. In fact, with him, everything is constant. You want to fuck him everyday, you touch yourself with his voice in your mind guiding you. He gets pretty out of character in your alone mind, though.

Real Nanami is a sweetheart. Your Nanami would make you cry while on his cock.

“── and the meeting room needs to be ready by eleven, you can do all that, darling?” He asks. He asks! He is talking with you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kento,” You stutter before shifting your attention from your computer screen to his charming understandable smile. “could you repeat, please?”

“Sure, darling.”

You need to put extra neurons to work when eyeing his pink lips moving gracefully. Is it the same shade as his cock? Oh, you hoped so. That would be your favorite color, would paint your nails, your hair, anything.

“Got it now?” Nanami curls his lips as he question you. You can’t lie to him, so you sign that No, you did not payed attention. He chuckles and comes closer, resting both hands in fist on your table, letting himself down so he can be face to face with you. “I need you to order mine, yours and the lunch for the usual gentleman I talk about the finances, ── you have that noted, right?” You nod, and he proceeds. “Then, I want you to decorate the meeting room, the way you always do.” You nod again, and he moves back. You want to whine. “Good girl.”

Pause.

That’s new. It’s like achieving a new item in a game. A new level. That’s a prize, the greatest form of enlightenment one could have. You feel warm in your chest and cheeks, but dare not to sway your eyes from his twinkling ones. You wonder if he knows what you are thinking, or if he knows the power he has over you ── over everyone.

That’s Nanami Kento. The man with a dazzling aura, it touches all in proximity, no one survives him. If he wants, you are his. Hooked like a worm, willingly ready to be devoured by a fish, and the thing is no one knows if Nanami is said fish or the fisherman.

The secret about his success is not only the sweet talk he does, but the way he can easily take it away. And no one wants to be away from his warmth. You’ve seen it before, how he controls people ── some more powerful than your mind can comprehend, they all are puppets for him to pull the strings. He touches and praises them when they do what he wants, but Nanami grows cold and absent when they don’t.

Everyone wants to be loved by him, so everything this enterprise does, it revolves around Nanami.

He can be a scary man when he wants, and you’ve heard the tales, from time to time. With you, fortunately, he is just your nice boss. And a part of you wish he would cradle you into his arms and play with you like a marionete. His doll. Yeah, you want to be his fucking doll.

Tempted to ruin this lunch and be ravished by his famine, you shake your deranged thoughts and focus on ordering the food. Also asking for red velvet cookies for you and Mr. Gojo, the owner of this whole enterprise.

A cocky young man, that likes to devour your physique whenever you come inside the room. He is rich and beautiful and his name is always on the newspaper with gossip mostly involved. You could fall for him, could fuck him, but he is not Nanami.

He doesn’t boss you around gently, nor he makes you crave his scent on lonely nights. He makes you shy, but not timid and horny. In fact, you don’t even think about Satoru Gojo unless you are balancing his persona with Nanami’s. That’s sad for him.

You keep doing that ── the thoughts, the sexual dreams ── while preparing the meeting room with a charming decoration. Black glasses, black plates, all with golden details. Satoru Gojo himself payed for it, not that he knows or care. You commented once, Nanami liked, and moved his toys in favor of buying the expensive kitchen utensils you wanted. He even made sure to get some for your own house.

The last part is closing the thick black curtains around the room, for privacy. Someone comes inside the second you step back from the last tapestry, and when you turn, Nanami is there.

“How’s everything?” His fingers press on the table, moving swiftly with him, closer to you. “You’ve got cookies?” There is amusement in his question.

“Mr. Gojo’s secretary, Suguru, told me he was craving something sweet.” You turn back to the table behind you, stacking the sweet in a small mountain. “He always gets fussy if he doesn’t get his daily large intake of sugar.”

You grabbed one, knowing that half of it was rightfully yours, and twisted on your heels. Nanami scared you in two sequential situations after that. The first being his looming presence right in front of you, piercing gaze on you, shifting between your eyes. He was searching for something in it, so, you tried the hardest you could to give him something back. Eyes that said “please, fuck me.”

Maybe it worked. The next thing he did, that scared you, was bending down and biting your cookie. Eyes never leaving yours. You gulped, he smirked.

“Please, fuck me.”

He chocked.

See, your eyes were supposed to be the one speaking for you, but Nanami also has this super power that no one can lie to him. He wants something, he gets it delivered in a silver plate. He knows everyone’s secret, and yours were never safe, just happened to be hidden in a line of things that weren’t priority for him. Not until now, at least. He wanted to know what you were hiding, and you gave it to him.

“I ──” The words are struck behind your teeth. Nanami eagerly waits for them. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, you leave him.

In a perfect world, he would have grabbed you by the wrists and fucked you against Satoru’s side of the table. But it’s not, because he lets you go. He has to let you go, even if you know that’s not the end of it. He will get you later, and like a little kid in science class, he will dissect everything you said. Therefore, during the thirty minutes of freedom you are granted in the bathroom, before the meeting starts, you try and fail and try and fail to conceal your thoughts into a perfect lie.

It doesn’t work. Not even a bit. Because Nanami knows you like the back of his hand, as much as he knows everyone that works with him. He knows when you lie and when you are truthful, and thanks to that, your work relationship had always been good ── you’ve never lied to him to stroke his ego. You were too busy wanting to stroke something else. Nanami let you slide your nasty comments about others, and he would share them, granting you some of their secrets.

He was a gossiper. He knew everything. You knew right there that lying would never work with him, so you just avoided to let him reach that horny part of yours that burned for him. Give him something else to sink his attention into. Your neck, you wanted, but rather you would feed him with gossips from your college classes, or what you got from Suguru Geto, your friend and Satoru’s assistant.

Now, you had already run out of distractions. Maybe that was his plan all along. If the world is correct, and it all falls down to Nanami’s desires, then maybe he was just waiting for you to crumble and admit. You had never been subtle with your eyes, anyway. That’s why he had been so fascinated about it, staring from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of your true self, like a wishing star in a starry night.

The stars have gone dark, burned and busted away, when you come back to the meeting room and sit down on your designed chair, by his side. Nanami is focusing at you, again, like he needs more of your secrets at this moment. You have never gave him something so largue before, he is addicted.

But you, stubborn, appalled, stoic and all, think your plate of pasta is the most interesting thing in this whole world. You don’t eat much, because your throat is filled with all the words and screams you want to let out. You fear if you so much breathe loud, it will all come flooding this room.

“Are you annotating all of this in your head?” Nanami whispers in your ear, referring to the meeting now in progress. You sign no, and he sighs. “Your mind is far away, today.”

“Sorry.”

“What should I do with you?”

Someone coughs. An old man, standing by the edge of the table. He wants Nanami’s eyes on him, the praise, the goodness. Kento grants him half a smile, and that is not enough. Never will be. Everyone always wants more.

The lights are turned off when the projector is brought by Suguru, he comes and goes quickly, not before stealing a cookie from Satoru. That’s the first smile you present since the incident, and Nanami is back at staring at you with an intensity your heart fears but your pussy drips for. Are you scared? Petrified. And still, you are fucking horny.

He knows your secret, he is devoting his eyes to you, no matter what anyone else wants. He, in this moment, wants you. It might be because he needs to know what you meant, it might be because you are stroking his ego, finally. Or, you dare wonder, he is debating throwing you on that table and fucking you. Old men and Satoru aside, you wouldn’t mind. At all.

You take courage to look at him, and instantly you stare at his lips first, before his eyes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. You go back at eyeing the projector. He does the same a long beat later. An even longer one, he slowly puts his hand on your exposed thigh, skirt raised since you set down.

You try to not fail in your stoic face, but you do so anyway. Because, for fuck’s sake, Nanami Kento has his hands on your thigh, his thumb in circular movements. Your lips instinctively curl up, he snorts by your side before going back to his serious demeanor.

You thought he would just keep his hands there, as if testing the water but deciding to stay near the shore. That’s not his case, though. Nanami loves to go to the beach, to swim far away beyond the waves, he likes to get damped. His hand move closer, and you open your legs absentmindedly. He wants, you give. As much as you have wanted, and now he is giving you.

When his hands are pressing against your lacy underwear, you hear a little “Fuck” coming from his mouth. You’re soaking wet.

It’s hard to keep your breathing pattern steady when he is near you. Even more harder when he has one finger slowly penetrating you. For the outsider viewer, everything is normal, and the two of you are just concentrated on the projector screen. The truth is you have no idea what’s going on, and maybe neither does him. You want to moan, and tug his hair until he groans. And you want him to replace his finger with his cock. You stare at the annotation book, empty of your handwriting, and use the opportunity of your head down to hang your mouth open and close your eyes.

Nanami shifts his eyes to you, and he drowns himself into your fucked gaze, even more so when he puts another finger. He can’t linger much, or others will notice, so he decides to keep his movements fluid and calm, and to stare at you from time to time.

He can multitask. Of-fucking-course. He asks questions, answers, he acts as if he is one hundred percent into whatever is going on. The reality is different. The truth is all about his curling fingers pressing themselves in a place inside you that will forever mark his presence there. Like a secret plaything only for him, no one, not even you, will ever reach that. It’s like he is signing it with either his name only or a “Nanami was here.”

You want him to stay, forever. Stay inside you, slow pacing, curling, sensitive.

He can’t, because what feels like hours later, turns into minutes. Everyone is raising up to leave, and he moves out of you so fast, you clench around nothing ── had you been quicker, grabbed his fingers, they all would know. You don’t give a fuck, you want them too know.

“Go to my office.” He whispers before going the opposite direction of the exit, and staying back to talk with the others. You walk without a goodbye, creating an excuse when Satoru wants some of your time.

Inside his office, you feel like breathing for the first time. It’s confusing, like your lungs are new and not fully connected to your esophagus, so it comes up weird ── in a mixture of laugh and relief, salted with a “what the actual fuck”.

You want to stop and think of what’s happening or what’s to happen, but you never had the chance. It’s a second later, and you are being pressed against his, now, locked door. His arms holding your hips, his head resting on your neck, sulking your scent much like you do with his.

“You meant it, right?” He asks, bringing his face up to yours. “You want me to fuck you. Please, darling, say you do, because I need to fuck you now, or I’ll go crazy.”

“Yes, please, please.” Midway through your desperate nod, Nanami lunged at you, catching your lips in his and conducting the rhythm, the strength.

He was so, so good. In all ways. His slow fingers had your legs shaking and his eager kiss has your mind fogged. All that he does seems to be professional, but you know deep down, this effect is all because is made by him. Just his presence alone could have you hot and bothered, but to actually be touched by him, it’s like adding the fire to your gasoline self.

You had always been meant to be burned by Nanami.

He hoist you up against the door, for a quick second his hands kept clawing your thighs, until he walked you both to his desk. He let you down on it, and at the same time, his kisses moved to your neck and shoulder. You could feel the scrape of his teeth, tempted to mark you with a significant bite ── tell them I’m yours, you thought.

He groaned against your flustered skin, because he knew he couldn’t do that. Mark you, that’s it. Fuck you? Oh, that he can, that he will do.

“I need you to be really quiet for me.” His hands are quick on his belt, dropping it with a thud against the floor. He raises your skirt to your waist, Nanami grumbled under his breath with the sight of your underwear. He had touched the elaborate details earlier, but to see it was another story. White, see through, a pink ribbon on the top. “I’m going to rip it.”

“No, you’re not!” Raising your leg, you pushed him away. Eyes still hypnotized by your clothed cunt. You removed the piece with a satisfied smirk. It had been months since you started to wear those type of under-wears, hoping one day this situation would come.

No one wants to fuck their sexy boss with granny’s pants.

The cold table coming in contact with your intimacy made you moan a bit, and Nanami’s attention was back on you. There you were, beautifully waiting for him. Fuck-me eyes, pleading mouth, hands gripping the edge of the desk. You were at his mercy, had been for a while now. And he? Well, Nanami was yours now, that’s what matter.

One of his fingers, the same one he had penetrated you earlier, came back inside you. Smearing itself with your wetness. His other hand gripped your hips, bringing you closer, and making him go deeper. There, right fucking there. He curled, and thrusted, and another two more out of nowhere.

Cruelty was not on the way he was ravishing your cunt, but the biting of your teeth on your hand. You have to be quiet, follow his orders, but Nanami seemed to want to make you scream. Let everyone know that he is fucking you. Nearly fucking you.

Combining this movements with the ones of earlier, you feel your insides getting tighter. He senses as well, and raises his peace once more. But, again, your legs push him away. Nanami doesn’t like that, he comes back quick, wet fingers anxious to reclaim their place inside you, but you sign no, and he halts. That’s it. The man that controls everyone, and he is at your mercy.

“I want to cum on your cock.” Maybe is the sweet and diabolical way you say, or the tilting of your head with a charming smile. What matters is, he complies right away. His pants fall, he takes off his blazer, and not a second later you are presented with what you’ve been craving for months.

Like a pregnant lady, you almost cry and fall on your knees, finally having your desire attended. He doesn’t want that either, instead Nanami takes a condom from his wallet. Before he puts it, his waiting fingers touch your cunt again, grabbing a bit of your liquid and smearing it on himself. You nearly ask him to throw the condom away.

Is a sinful sight. All of this. You on the desk, legs wide open. He in front of you, adjusting himself on the condom. Both groaning when he, fucking finally, align with your entrance, and slowly gets in. He is largue, and thick, and preparation might have been necessary had you not been daydreaming of this moments months ago.

Had he not been himself, that man that makes you drip with just a “good morning”, this might have hurt. Instead, it’s exhilarating to be parted by his cock. The condom does not stop you from feeling his veins tickling your walls, or his tip finally setting near your cervix. That was fucking new. Pleasant and scary, and fucking welcome as well.

“Say it again,” He asks, hands on both your hips and eyes looking over yours. Waiting for the stars to fall over the two of you. “tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck m──” He doesn’t wait for you to end before he removes himself, and going back with a gushing sound. You nearly scream out of pleasure, but in the last second, you bite your lips strong enough to draw some blood. “Mmh, you fucking a-asshole.” He snorts at that, before slapping your thigh.

Seems that Nanami can do all the noises he wants. He groans against your skin, head hanging low to stare at the way you pussy suck his dick in and out. You have always been a good girl ── his good girl. Taking all the he gave you. Mostly work related, and now his cock. You truly were made just for him.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” A moan scapes your hands, and he doesn’t bother spanking your leg again. He called you baby, and you’re strangling his dick perfectly. You can shout at this point, he is pussy fucked.

Removing your hands from your mouth, you decide to do something much better than guarding your pleasure. Instead, you open his button-up blue shirt. A dream come through, is what this day will be remembered as. Specially now, where he lets you do as you pleases, and you have the sight of his pecks ── bronzed from a beach trip he took last week, and glistening with sweat for your recent activities. You moaned again, before going for it, and marking him.

Nanami allowed you to do so. He only cared about holding your hips and raise your lower body, so he could make you meet his thrusts halfway. He didn’t hold a care in the world about his groaning getting louder, or the burning on his neck and chest caused by your eager mouth and teeth. Fuck that. Fuck everyone. The only thing he truly wanted was to be inside of you forever. To be planted in this moment of his life, on loop, being marked by you, having his cock milked out by your dripping cunt. That’s what his life was made for.

Nanami Kento had this aura that made everyone scramble for him and his left-overs, as a way to keep close. To say they have something that once was his. Because everyone knew that Nanami was no one’s property. This moment, this fuck, this pussy proved that statement to be contraire ── he was yours. From the first day he saw you and specially one hour ago, when he had eaten your cookie and you told him to fuck you. He knew right then that he would shift the whole balance of the world to give you what you want.

And if that’s his aching cock, fucking be it. It’s yours. You’re taking it so good, and barely paying attention to it. He keeps bruising your cervix, and you respond with little whimpers and more bites. He quicken his peace, you close your legs around his waist, as if giving him more opening.

A perfect synchrony.

“Wan’ to cum.” You mumble just right after he senses your wall get tight.

“C’mon, baby, ugh, cum f’me.”

“Mmh, fuck, ngha.”

You do right after, going limp on his arms, he slow his thrusting with a snort and laying you down on the desk. He shuffles something by your dazed-self side, before he brings a black sharpie near your cleavage. He kisses and licks and sucks on it, before opening the pen with his mouth, and signing a straight line.

“How many more can you give me, pretty?” You don’t answer in words, but with more quiet whimpers, when his thrusts go back to pounding you in a maniac pace. He holds your neck down, leaning to kiss you through your beautiful moans.

You’re sensitive, he knows. Because you keep closing more and more around his length, trying to make him cum, unknown to you that it only makes you closer to coming again. You hit your head on the desk when trying to follow his departed lips, Nanami has your neck again on his mouth, tasting your sweat and lotion, and all you can give him. It’s only when he bites it slightly, you release yourself once more.

“Mmph, fuck, fuck, argh.”

Nanami keeps jerking his hips onto yours, not even having cum once. He takes pleasure in yours, you can see. With a proud smirk, he grabs the sharpie once more, but this time, he makes a diagonal line that touches the top of the first.

“Mhm──!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby. Just a bit more.” He cooed at you, sweet tone diverging from his animalistic movements.

You’re not complaining, not even regretting. So you keep yourself down and let Nanami control both of yours fun. He is ruthless in his pace and fantastic with his kisses, he doesn’t mind your moaning anymore, or the fact that everyone on your floor already knows. What can they do? Stop you? Nanami will rip everyone apart and just return to your pussy. Threaten him? No one would dare. He is still their sweetheart, their most sacred prize, beautiful and shinning to look at. Never to have.

“I’m, ugh, I’m yours.” He grunts.

This time, you sense a shift in his thrusts. So methodical now sloppy, and his cock kept twitching inside of you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. Yes, fucking finally, he was near.

“All fucking m──mine.” You agreed with his words, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming your lips together. “I’m yours, always had been.”

Nanami can’t even control himself anymore. He groans and pants as he releases himself inside you. With a mist of swearing and praises you could barely decipher. After all, his own release had triggered yours.

When you both had come back from the high, Nanami raised himself from your chest, and kissed you, tongues intertwining, teeth clashing and biting. When he parted, leaving you breathless, he had then pen in his hand again. It touched your skin, once more, connecting from the bottom of his last line, going up straight.

It’s a “N”.

“You think we can spell my name?” He asks, leaving your inside to throw his condom out. He opens a drawer, where a box with more is presented.

“That would be more 17 fucks.” You support your weight on your elbows while counting.

“It’s that a no?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat, before beckoning him closer. He does right away, kissing you hungrily once more. As if he is trying to record forever the taste of your mouth. He has your hair in his fists, pushing it back so he can go back to your, now, heavily marked neck.

“Let’s see how far can we go.” You indulge into his crazy erotic idea.

Nanami smiles triumphantly. He removes himself from your body, but doesn’t put condoms, instead, he falls on his knees, diving straight for your pussy.

Hours later, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, you leave his locked office with a smug smirk and timid eyes. Both accompanied by messy hair, flushed cheeks, marked neck and… “Nana” written on your chest.

“We’ll finish this later.” He comes behind you, closing his shirt, but letting the top buttons opened enough to catch a glimpse of your love marks on his chest. Specially the one with “Mine” marked in it.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.

So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.

Mr crawling

Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.

He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.

‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.

‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.

‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.

While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.

Mr silvair

The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.

He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.

He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.

Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.

He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.

Mr Scarletella

Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.

He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.

He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.

His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.

Mr Hood

Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.

He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.

It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.

It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.

Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.

[loriache]

Kabru, impossible mutual understanding & unknowable objects

Despite his concerted and constant efforts to understand other people, it’s established in a few extras that Kabru believes that true mutual understanding between certain different races is impossible. Specifically, between long-lived and short-lived races, and between humans and demi-humans. Partially, we can trace this conviction back to specific hang-ups caused by his life; the trauma of the Utaya disaster, prejudices he carries from his childhood, and his experience of racism among the elves. In this “little” essay, I’m gonna discuss how I think those experiences formed this belief, how it comes out in his actions, and how some of his actions seem to contradict it. The question of whether it’s possible to reach mutual understanding with other living beings despite our differences is one of the core themes of the manga, and I’ll also touch on how this aspect of Kabru’s character links to that.

Seeking understanding

Kabru is a character who devotes a huge amount of time and effort to understanding people, and he is very good at it. In his internal monologue, we can tell how advanced and complex his skills of analysis are. He is able to read a huge amount of information just from looking at people's faces and body language.

People are, to him, what monsters are to Laios. This is something that's been expanded on at length in other, excellent meta. It's the fact that they're foils; it's the fact that Kabru is also very easy to read as autistic, with a special interest which is the opposite and parallel of Laios'. It's something that came out of trauma and alienation, as Laios' special interest in monsters also began as a coping mechanism.

The complicated origin of this "love" for monsters and for people comes through, I think, in the fact that one of the places we see both characters use their fixation is in being very, very good at killing the thing that they love. This also ties into the idea that loving something isn't even remotely mutually exclusive with using it to sustain your own survival; using it for your own purposes; hurting it or killing it. Love can be, and often is, violent, possessive and consumptive. This understanding is part of what makes Kui's depiction of interpersonal relationships so compelling to me.

While Laios fixated on monsters and animals to seek a place of escape, in both his imagination and his self-image, from the humans who he couldn't understand and who couldn't understand him, Kabru seems to have fixated on understanding people in order to navigate the complex, socially marginal places that he has been forced into throughout his life. As an illegitimate child raised by a single mother with an appearance that marked him out as different to the point his father's family wanted to kill him, and a tallman child raised among elves who didn't treat him as fully human and wanted him to perform gratefulness for that treatment – treatment that, after he met Rin at age 9, he certainly always understood could be a lot worse – his ability to work out what people wanted from him, whether they were friendly or hostile or had ulterior motives, wasn’t just an interest. It will have been an essential skill.  

Milsiril, I think, was a flawed parent who tried to do her best by Kabru and did a lot of harm to him despite her best intentions. She may have treated him much better than an average elf would have, but like Otta and Marcille's mother, there are other elves with different outlooks on short-lived races. How would they judge her treatment of him? We don’t have any insight on what it could be, but to be honest, the person’s whose opinion of her I’d be most interested in knowing is Rin’s.

But even if she'd been perfect, living as an trans-racial adoptee in a deeply hierarchical nation with a queen who is a 'staunch traditionalist' who wouldn't even acknowledge the existence of a half-elf like Marcille (according to Cithis) is an experience that would deeply impact anyone.

Elves & Impossible mutual understanding

While Kabru was living with Milsiril - in other words, while living in the Northern Central Continent - he came to believe that "there was no way to achieve mutual understanding with the long-lived races."

This is evident in his political project: he wants short-lived races to have ownership over the dungeon's secrets. Despite his dislike of the Lord of the Island, he's a useful bulwark to stop the elves taking over. Despite his doubts about Laios, Laios needs to be the one to defeat the dungeon, because if he doesn't the elves will take over.

Kabru still carries a deep scar from Utaya, one that was exacerbated by the fact that he never got an answer to any of his questions about what happened or why. This, despite the fact that Milsiril knows about the demon and how it works. Do you think Kabru, with his social perceptiveness that borders on the superhuman, wasn't aware that she knew more than she would tell him?

Given that, the fact that he gets to a place where he "doesn't have any particularly negative feelings about [elves/long-lived species]" .... well, to put it bluntly, I believe that he thinks that's the case, but I kind of doubt it. After all, if he did have resentment, of Milsiril (someone who was his primary provider and caretaker since age six, and who despite her flaws, loves him and who I do think he loves) or of elves (who he has had to play nice with for most of his life, in order to survive, and will still have to play nice with in order to achieve his goals, since they hold all the power) what would that do except hurt him and make his life harder? Kabru is Mr. Pragmatic, so I don't think he'd let himself acknowledge any such feelings he did have. Exactly because he can't acknowledge them, they're well placed to get internalised as beliefs about the Fundamental Unchangeable Nature of the World.

However, these stated beliefs seem to contradict his actions. Despite his belief in the impossibility of forming a mutual understanding, he certainly seems to try to understand long-lived people, just as much as he does short-lived people. There's no noticeable difference between his treatment of Daya & Holm versus Mickbell & Rin that isn't clearly down to their relationship with him. His skills of human analysis were honed and developed while living amongst elves, and as soon as he's alone with Mithrun he immediately sets to understanding him - his interests, his motivations, his needs, and his past.

He treats him considerately and without bias, and despite the fact that Mithrun conquering the dungeon for the elves is both a reenactment of a core part of his childhood trauma and a political disaster for his aims, that doesn't seem to colour his perspective on Mithrun negatively at all.

This is something I find extremely laudable about Kabru, and it's another way he parallels Laios. He seems to understand that people, as a rule, (in Laios' case, he understands this about monsters - and eventually, all living beings) will act in their own interests, and if those interests conflict with yours, might harm you. But that's just their nature, and it's not something that should be held against them; you're also doing the same thing, after all. The crux of Laios' arc is precisely that he has to accept the responsibility of hurting someone else in order to achieve what he wants.

Kabru is deeply concerned with his own morals, what he should and shouldn't do, but mostly in the context of responsibility for the consequences - a responsibility he takes onto himself. He isn't scrupulous about what he needs to do in order to create the outcome he wants, but if he fails to create that outcome, then....

He blames himself to the point of thinking he should die. He doesn't blame Laios, or seem at all angry with him, despite concluding he should have killed him to prevent this outcome. That's because in his eyes, ultimately Laios was going to act according to his own nature, and it's Kabru's fault for not understanding that nature well enough. He's extremely confident in his ability to understand and predict others, (including elves and other long-lived people). Then, where does his conviction that mutual understanding is impossible come from?

Partially, it's the "mutual" part. I'm sure Kabru, who isn't able or willing to deny Otta's insinuation that Milsiril saw him more like a pet than a son, has felt that his full interiority, the depth of his feelings and his ability to grow, act, and think as a fully equal being, was something that the elves around him just couldn't grasp. Because that was their excuse for it, he came to understand this as a gulf between short-lived and long-lived beings, an inevitable difference in outlook caused by their different lifespans.

This experience might be part of what leads to his iconic “fake” behaviour. He trusts his ability to understand others, but if they aren’t able to understand him, then there isn’t any benefit to being honest about his feelings and thoughts. If his attempts to reach mutual understanding with his caretakers were never able to be fulfilled, then it isn’t any wonder that he reacts with such surprise and horror at blurting out his desire to be Laios’ friend.

In his experience, making yourself vulnerable in that way only leads to being hurt. Soothing him, hushing him, lying to him, talking to him like a child that isn’t able to use proper judgement – that’s an inadequate and deeply hurtful way to respond to genuine distress, the desire for autonomy, or disagreement. Ultimately, I think that’s why he comes out on the side of being grateful to Milsiril; because she did equip him with the skills and knowledge he’d need to reach his goal, and let him go.

Though he could understand them, they couldn't understand him. To the extent that was true - which I'm sure it was - it wasn't due to anything about lifespan. It was due to the elves’ racism, and the solipsitic mindset & prejudiced attitude that it caused them to approach him with.

Because, if it needs to be said, the idea that there is an unbreachable gap in understanding between the long-lived and short-lived species is not true. Marcille and Laios have a much greater difference in lifespan than any full elf from any short-lived person, and they’re able to understand each other – maybe not perfectly, but better than many other people who are closer in life-span to them.

That doesn’t mean that I think Kabru is wrong about this, however. Because there’s an interpretation of his statement that is reflected in his actions and is true. When he talks about his problem with elves, it’s not just their attitudes: it’s their power, and what they use it to do. They “explain nothing and take everything”. Though it’s presented in the guise of ‘guiding and protecting’, in fact it’s a simple case of a powerful nation using their military power, wealth, access to resources, and historically stolen land – including the island itself – to protect their own interests and advance their own agenda. That’s why they’d be able to show up, seize the dungeon, and forcibly take Kabru’s party and Laios’ party to the West. If Kabru wants to stop that from happening, or change that status quo, persuasion or a bid to be understood would be completely pointless. Between the political blocs formed by long-lived species and the interests of short-lived species, “mutual understanding”, given their current, unequal terms, would be impossible. This is something that we see reflected in Kabru’s actions; before he asks his questions about the dungeon, he grabs Mithrun as leverage. He never really attempts to persuade the canaries to see his point of view, because that would be pointless: they’re agents of the Northern Central Continent’s monarchy, and will act in its interests regardless of any individual relationship with him.  

I don’t think Kabru sees the different dimensions of this belief of his in quite such clear terms, however, as is evidenced by the other group who he thinks it’s impossible to communicate with.

Demi-Humans & Unknowable Objects

The other place that we see his conviction about the impossibility of mutual understanding is in the kobold extra.

I'm including the whole thing, because I think it's an excellent and clever piece of world-building. Aside from what it says about Kabru, which I'll expand on shortly, what this extra does is deconstruct and call into question the usual "fantasy ontological biology" present in these sort of DnD-like settings. Essentially, the kind of worldbuilding where a race (such as kobolds) can be described as war-like, and that's establishing something essential about their biological nature. That's common to the point that if Kui didn't include this, some people would probably come away thinking that's the case about, e.g., the orcs.

But here, despite what Kabru is saying, the information the reader actually gets is:

the conflict between short-lived humans and demi-humans such as kobolds is mostly over access to material resources that they need to survive.

These resources are scarce because powerful nations, such as the elves, have monopolised them.

Kabru, who has grown up in a place at the centre of these conflicts, ascribes essential, negative traits to a cultural group which was in direct conflict with his own. Communication with this other group is impossible; they aren't people, they're more like objects.

oh yes! just like this conflict between groups of tall-men, a conflict which the reader will immediately interpret as more clearly analogous to real-life racism. Our other protagonists also carry prejudices from growing up in a place where a marginalised group was in conflict with the dominant group over scarce resources. It's definitely impossible to communicate with these people, and you can only kill them.

Woah, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad!

But also, nobody walks away having had a realisation or unlearned their prejudices - because they don't have the tools they need to do that work. Yet. I do think, to an extent, it could happen - especially with Kabru, since it's suggested in the epilogue that Melini might become a safe-haven for demi-humans.

To focus in on Kabru, the key here is his statement that you should think of demi-humans as "unknowable objects". Even his extraordinary powers of understanding have seemingly hit a limit. Part of this is just inherited prejudice, and doesn't need to have a complicated psychological explanation, any more than the elves who were prejudiced against him need one.

But also... this is probably somewhat linked to the way demi-humans seem to be considered "pseudo-monsters". They're the place that the strict delineation between the human and the monstrous is permeated. Laios, who is not interested in humans, remembers and is excited by Kuro. Chilchuck and Laios argue over whether it's OK to eat a mermaid. Kabru's prepared to (pretend to) roll with the idea that Laios ate the orcs.

But these are people, aren't they? Of course, this is a social construction, as we see from the fact that in the Eastern Archipelago, the label of "human" is reserved for tallmen, but in most of the rest of the world it depends on some obviously arbirary classification based on number of bones; "demi-humans" aren't in any essential way monstrous, except to an extent in their appearance, and physical location - due to their marginal social status, they're pushed out to live in unsafe places such as dungeons.

Therefore, Kabru's view of demi-humans as fundamentally "other", unable to be understood - monstrous - could be read as akin to abjection, the psychoanalytical concept described by Julia Kristeva. In order to create a bounded, secure superego, that thing which permeates and calls into question the border between self and other, human and animal, life and death, is rejected and pushed to the margin.

“Not me. Not that. But not nothing, either. A "something" that I do not recognize as a thing.[...] On the edge of nonexistence and hallucination, of a reality that, if I acknowledge it, annihilates me. There, abject and abjection are my safeguards. The primers of my culture.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 11) “It is thus not lack of cleanliness or health that causes abjection but what disturbs identity, system, order. ” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 13) “The pure will be that which conforms to an established taxonomy; the impure, that which unsettles it, establishes intermixture and disorder. [...] the impure will be those that do not confine themselves to one element but point to admixture and confusion.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 107) (discussing food prohibitions in Leviticus)

This is both (due to its affinity with food-loathing and disgust) a very fruitful concept to apply to dunmeshi, and a psychoanalytical theory which I wouldn't exactly cosign as True Facts About Human Psychological Development. You may also know the abject from its utilisation in the classic essay "Horror and the Monstrous-Feminine" by Barbara Creed - that's a lot more approachable than Kristeva if anyone's interested.

Key here, though, is that through the symbol of the "demi-human" is embodied a step between "human" and "monster" - and that's a prospect that puts at risk the whole notion of an absolute separation between those two categories in the first place. To Laios, that's something wonderful, and to Kabru, it's terrifying. We can see this principle further embodied in the relationship both characters have with the notion of becoming monstrous.

To Laios, this is transcendent, and represents a renunciation of everything human - in fact, if it didn't, it wouldn't "count".

To Kabru, it's a deeply-held fear, established by his childhood alienation (due to his illegitimacy, his eyes, and perhaps also his neurodivergency), deepened by monster-related trauma and the sense of responsibility and survivors guilt he feels for what happened at Utaya. His identity as a human who is not monstrous is key to his sense of stability and safety; he doesn't want to touch monsters, he doesn't even want to see them.

To acknowledge a kinship, a possibility of similarity between the things he loves (humans) and the things he hates (monsters) would be more than touching them - it would be putting them inside him. We know, quite explicitly, that this notion is triggering to Kabru. He literally has what seems to be a flashback when he's about to eat the harpy omelette.

So he abjects it, classifying the demi-human as fundamentally unlike him - an unknowable object, or an object that he refuses to know. Because in understanding it, he would interject the things he hates and fears into his self, which is already, always under threat by that hated and feared object.

Of course, again, Kabru isn't very good at enacting this refusal in practice. For one, when he chooses between his desires and ingesting the feared object, eating monsters... he eats monsters. Part of this is treating himself badly, the "ends justify the means" mentality. His goal is to destroy all monsters, so if he needs to become monster-like to do that, he will. But part of it is also the other motivation that he didn't even seem to know about until he said it: he wants to become Laios' friend, and to learn from him how a person can like monsters. He wants, at least in some part of him, to reconcile the feared and hated object into something he can understand.

For another:

Kabru can speak the kobold language. In the first place, while this may have been common in Utaya, it also could have been something he chose to learn, an early expression of his interest in understanding and talking to all sorts of people. It isn't the kind of thing you learn if you believe that communication between yourself and the group that speak it is impossible, is it?

It's possible to harbour prejudices against a group while being kind to an individual, and given Kabru has those prejudices regardless of his reasons, that is what he is doing. But also, his treatment of Kuro doesn't reflect a sincerely held belief that he's an "unknowable object" at all. His approach is exactly the same as it is to any other person: an analysis of goal and motive, and an attempt to help if he's sympathetic and their goals align - going out of his way to give language and local knowledge lessons in secret. His conviction that Mickbell and Kuro will truly become friends when they can properly communicate is completely contradictory to any sense of demi-humans as fundamentally different, or impossible to reach mutual understanding with. To me, it seems like this self-protective shield against the corruptive force demi-humans as an idea present to his identity, this abjection, when Kabru is face-to-face with one, just simply can't hold up against his finely honed skill of intellectual empathy. Perhaps because he's autistic, it seems his "empathy" is less an emotional mirror response, and more a set of cognitive skills for analysis of others. That instinctual, emotional empathy might not trigger when presented with a member of an out-group, but if it’s possible for Kabru to turn his cognitive empathy off, we don’t see him do it.

This isn't to say that this prejudice doesn't affect his behaviour. For one, it could negatively impact his judgement of politics and policy, where individual people don't enter into it. For another, I'm not convinced he'd be willing to overlook Mickbell's exploitative relationship with Kuro if Kuro wasn't a kobold. As it is, since both of them are satisfied, he doesn't feel like he needs to intervene, regardless of the fact Mickbell isn't paying Kuro. But if Daya and Holm were in a relationship, and Holm took both Daya's and his own share from their ventures, but only compensated her in living expenses and kept the rest, do you think he'd tolerate it, for example? Even if she said it was OK?

Conclusion

The kelpie chapter establishes that "people can never know what monsters are really thinking." That isn't just true of monsters, though.

True mutual understanding is impossible - between anyone. We can never truly understand another person's heart. This is touched on in, for example, the existence of shapeshifters and dopplegangers. Even a monster that seemed like a perfect copy of a person wouldn’t be that person, and wouldn’t be a satisfactory replacement.

We’re intended, I think, to understand the winged lion's repeated suggestions to just replace people who have been lost with copies as something uncanny, which demonstrates the way that the winged lion never manages to attain a complete understanding of humans. A version of a person who was created to fulfil your memories of them, to be the person who you wanted them to be, would be a terrible, miserable thing.

Disagreeing, coming into conflict, and misunderstanding each other, are essential parts of what it means to be living beings, as fundamental as the need to eat.

The only thing to do is not to take more than you need to eat to survive, and not impose your own desires onto others. To do your best to sincerely communicate your desires, even if they're embarrassing or vulnerable or strange, like Kabru eventually does with Laios; like Laios does, bit by bit, with the people around him; like Marcille does, Chilchuck does, Senshi does... to hope they will accept you, and do your best to understand them in return.

We can re-examine, in that context, Kabru's line about the elves' tendency to "explain nothing and take everything".

They have the power to impose their preferred "menu" onto less powerful groups. And in that context, mutual understanding being impossible just means that they won't give up their power because they're asked nicely. Kabru's goal is to seize the truth that they won't give to him, and to create a situation where they can't take everything. Because he's accurately surmised that nothing about the treatment of short-lived races will change so long as the power imbalance remains. Despite the way he mistakenly ascribes part of that to "long-lived vs short-lived" or "human vs demi-human", the actual gulfs in understanding he identifies are structural, are about power and about access to material resources and safety.

I think he could come to recognise this. Yaad is teaching him political science after all, and while a prince's lessons on political science won't exactly get at much that's radical or invested in the interests and perspectives of the marginalised (Capital is a critique of for a reason after all...) I believe in Kabru's ability to learn critically and get more from a lesson than it was intended to teach.

[misserabella]

two geniuses (playing love)

masterlist!

synopsis; feelings flourish in between the two of you as you’re forced to act as a couple. could a kiss finally let the two of you understand what was really going on underneath your supposedly hatred? you’re scared to find out.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, guns, shots being fired, girls being bitches, bickering, lots of teasing, so much flufffffff, spencer and reader being confused, pining, neck kisses, making out (their first kiss!!), violence, guns, shots being fired, spencer gets flustered a lot, also gets a boner… (so much more that i probably can’t remember)…

“so what do we know about this unsub?” hotch asked, all of you were sitting on the police station around the table, trying to understand this killers motive.

“well, we know his killings evolve around y/n.” morgan stated the obvious, to what you sighed.

“stalkers may exhibit a range of psychological issues, including personality disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and delusional disorders like erotomania. stalking behaviors can also be influenced by insecure attachment styles rooted in childhood experiences.” spencer added, and you nodded.

“erotomania is a delusional disorder that makes a person believe the person of their infatuation hace reciprocated feelings or love and affection, when they don’t. it may even be a person they’ve never met. they might even be famous, like a politician or an actor. people with this disorder can be so sure of this love that they think they’re in a relationship with this person. they may not be able to accept facts that prove otherwise. it is also called de clérambault syndrome, and it’s rare. it can happen on its own. but it’s usually linked to another mental health condition, like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. it can last for weeks or years.” you recited as if you were reading it off of a book.

“you two are like an encyclopedia.” emily smiled, chuckling.

“so this killer will go to the extreme of killing for you if needed.” jj nodded.

“seems like it.” you answered.

“he also seems pretty possessive and protective of you. he seems to have noticed spencer too.” morgan pointed out.

“you think he might think we’re dating?” you inquired with disbelief.

“it would play to our favor. if our profile around him is right, he might not be able to control the need to stay quiet about it and take action.” gideon said, what made you scoff.

“so what now? we should hold hands and act like a happy couple? fuck no.”

“y/n.” hotch scolded you.

“i’m sorry but that’s not gonna work. if none of you have noticed, spencer and i don’t really get along.”

“shocker!” emily sarcastically said, to what you squinted your eyes at her.

“come on guys… i can’t be the only one who doesn’t see this working out.” you tried to make up their minds and spencer pitched in.

“yeah. and to be honest i don’t want to become the unsub’s new target.” spencer pointed out.

jj stepped in. “it's true that your relationship has been strained, but you're both intelligent individuals. i’m sure you can put aside your differences to sell this lie. it's not about whether or not you like each other; it's about stopping this unsub at all costs." you listened to her words, groaning. she was right. you needed to stop acting like children and work together to catch this unsub.

you looked at spencer, who was already looking at you, communicating with a nod.

“you’re right.” you sighed at jj. “i guess it’s the only way, huh?” you gave in.

hotch stepped in, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "good. now, let's think through the details. we need to create a plausible backstory for your relationship, make sure your body language and interactions are believable, and be prepared for any curveballs the unsub might throw at us. this isn't going to be easy, but I have faith in both of you, and I know you can make this work." you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“how should we… how should we act around each other?” you inquired, cringing internally.

rossi answered “for your relationship to appear authentic, you'll need to display a certain level of intimacy and affection.”

“holding hands, touching each other frequently, being in close proximity… you can't come across as distant or awkward, as that would immediately raise suspicions.”emily added.

“you need to convince the unsub that you're truly in love with each other." jj finished and you scoffed.

“well that’s gonna be easy…” you sarcastically said, bracing yourself for what’s about to come.

-

his hand is warm, big engulfing your own. and clammy. spencer is nervous, awkward, you can feel it as you two walk through the beach, the light breeze hitting your skin, the salt engulfing your lungs.

you two have not said one word since you’ve left the headquarters, not on the way back to the hotel, or when you moved your things into his room, or on the way to the beach…

silence. total and absolute silence.

this was your new reality. to play fantasy with the person you hated the most. to act as if only love was what stood between the two of you and not this immense hatred that gnawed at your insides.

“did you know that by the amount of germs a hand holds it’s actually safer to kiss?” he asks, and his voice sounds hoarse by the silence he has buried himself in.

you hummed. “does that mean you’d prefer me to kiss you instead or hold your hand?” you asked, and he choked.

“what? no! no, what i meant is… i just…” you chuckled.

“relax, reid. it was a joke. i want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re so tense that whoever saw you would think im holding you hostage and making you hold my hand.” he scoffs.

“sorry. it’s just… awkward.”

“tell me about it…” you sighed, leaving your beach bag down onto the sand. “i think this might be a good spot.”

“for what?” he inquired, letting go of your hand.

“we’re supposed to be on a date, reid. doing things a couple does. you know… watch the sunset, spend time together… all of that.”

“oh.” he muttered. “yeah. that makes sense.” he nodded, watching you take out a couple of towels to spread them across the sand.

“gonna help me or stand there watching?” you chuckled, and he quickly moved to help you, muttering a ‘right, sorry’ that made you laugh internally. who’d know spencer could act like this? embarrassed and coy in front of you?

then he sat, book in hand. of course. “seriously? you’re gonna read right now?” you inquired him and he looked up at you.

“why not? the beach is one of the most relaxing places to read.” he shrugged, and you shook your head, pulling from your beach dress to get it off, leaving yourself on a blue bikini.

his eyes trailed down your sun kissed skin, the sun was setting, giving you a golden hue that made you shine.

“come with me.” your words took him out of his mind, his eyebrows raising as you offered him your hand. “come on.” he seemed suspicious, but again, he had to trust you if this lie was gonna be bought. and so he took your hand and got up. he tried not to think about the fact that your body was mostly exposed, and about the feeling of your soft smaller hand on his bigger one.

you let him go once he was up on his feet, and he took off his shirt, leaving him on his swimwear.

“so i wasn’t actually hallucinating it the last time… where were you hiding that?” you teased him, looking at his soft but toned body. he rolled his eyes.

“stop looking at me.”

“why? does it make you nervous?” you rose your eyebrows. “do i make you nervous, spencer?” you leaned in and he took a step back.

“no. i just don’t like it.” his nose scrunched up and you hummed.

“yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, giving him your back to start walking towards the shore.

“no. really.” he followed you with a frown, feet fast behind you.

“it’s okay, spencer. your little crush on me it’s cute.”

his eyes widened. “what?! i don’t have a crush on you!”

your feet met the water and you walked in. you heard his splashes behind you as the water met your knees. it was just the perfect temperature.

“you’re dumb.” you said while facing him once again. and he gave you an incredulous look.

“i’m not dumb! why would i be dumb?”

“because of this.” and with a quick movement you were maneuvering him into the water, leaving him splashing your thighs and tummy. you laughed at his glare and shocked expression, his pretty hair now mildly soaked. “god. reid. it’s the second time this happens to you. you don’t learn!”

“you think this is funny, do you?” he asks you, looking up at you.

“definitely.” you nodded, still chuckling, your chest heaving up and down with ragged breathing.

“yeah?”

“yea-“ but before you could finish he was grabbing your hand and pulling you down into the water with him. you froze as you fell on his lap, water splashing around the two of you.

“well, check who’s in the water now, huh?” he was laughing at your shocked expression and damp face before he noticed the position in which the two of you were in, his laughter dying quickly enough.

his eyes met your body, wet in droplets that slid down your chest and navel towards your hips submerged in the water and on top of his. he swallowed at the feeling of your soft weight on him, the swell of your chest right in front of his face, centimeters away from his lips. the curve of your neck… your hair falling over it and down your collarbones… the warmth of your hands on his shoulders, the softness of the skin of your hip under his unconscious grip.

you looked down at him. at his messy hair that had started curling due to the salt, at his thin yet toned build, his heaving chest, his sharp jaw, his hazel puppy eyes, his long lashes… the way he was now looking at you…

“uhm…” he cleared his throat. and the spell in between the two of you broke. you shook your head.

“i should probably…” you pointed at your back, trying to gesture that you should get up, and he nodded, pulling his hands away from your body.

“yeah. yeah.” he nodded, and you used him for leverage to get back on your feet. it was awkward. the tension in between the two of you as he too got back on his feet, neither of you looking at each other. the sun was setting.

“i think i’m gonna… go read.” you nodded.

“yeah. okay. i’ll… i’ll meet you there.” he copied the shaking of your head, and after a couple of seconds in silence he staggered in turning around and getting out of the water. you only went in deeper, submerging your head under the waves, where there was no noise, and no thoughts clouding your head. no doubts. although you could still feel the vivid heartbeat of your heart, crashing harshly against your ribs.

spencer tried to focus on his book, but as much as he’d like to not admit it, his eyes were zeroed on you.

-

“okay…” you hummed. “ursa minor.” you pointed at the sky.

the sun was long gone, and yet, spencer and you still were on the beach, lying on your towels, admiring the map of stars above your heads.

spencer took his turn, pointing just a little bit far away from your constellation. “ursa mayor.”

“now that’s and easy one.” you rolled your eyes teasing him, and he couldn’t help but copy you.

“okay. what about… camelopardalis?” he pointed it out in the sky and you hummed.

“now you’re just showing off.” he groaned.

“oh, so now i’m showing off?” he smirked and you nodded.

“yeah, come on. you could have just pointed out draco. instead you chose camelopardalis? you’re a show off.” he chuckled.

“okay. maybe i just wanted to shut you up.” he shrugged and you laughed.

“now, that’s not easy.”

“tell me about it.” he mumbled. “hey look. it’s saturn.” he pointed it out, it shining more than a normal star.

“and mars.” you said, pointing it out as well.

“and dwarf planet 1 ceres.” he added and you looked at him with your eyebrows raising.

“you’re bluffing.”

“i’m not!”

“yes you are, reid. that planet can only be seen with binoculars. you wear glasses!”

“how do you know that?” you laughed.

“caught you!” he rolled his eyes.

“okay. maybe i memorized tonight’s sky map, so what?” you chuckled at his response.

“you’re a nerd.”

“yeah? well so are you. what’s your iq, 170?”

“177.” his eyes widened. “what?”

“i mean. i knew you were intelligent. but we almost share the same iq. that’s… that’s impressive.”

“was that a compliment, doctor reid?” you smirked.

he shook his head with a smile, scoffing. “no.”

“it was though.”

“it wasn’t.”

“it totally was.” your bickering caused him to laugh.

“you’re insufferable.” he groaned, and you smiled.

“i know.” you two rested in silence, looking at the sky. “this isn’t so bad…” he looked at you. “i mean, sure. i don’t like you. and acting as your girlfriend totally sucks, believe me. but i thought it would be worse.” he hummed.

“you have a way of complimenting someone and at the same time insulting them that is fascinating.” he said, and you chuckled. “by the way… what time is it?” you took your phone.

“almost one am.” you answered his question.

“we should probably get going.” he muttered and you rose your eyebrows.

“you want me back into your bed so soon, reid?” he scoffed.

“you really like to assume those kinds of things. in the end i’m gonna start thinking you’re the one who wants me in your bed.” your eyes widened.

“fuck no!” you said while getting up from the towel, and he smirked up at you.

“you sure?”

“of course i am.”

“then why are you avoiding my eyes?” he got up to stand beside you, a smirk on his face. you wanted to punch it out of him.

“i’m not.” you scoffed.

“but you are.” your skin rose in goosebumps as he stepped closer, your breath hitching when he took your chin and made you look up at him into his hazel eyes. the moonlight made them shine. and for a moment you forgot that he was teasing you, playing with you.

“i don’t want you in my bed.” you said, straight into his eyes, pushing away his touch. he smiled.

“okay. i’ll believe you.” you looked away from him as he started gathering his things and put on back his shirt. you wondered why your cheeks were burning. why your heart was racing.

he put your beach bag over his shoulder. “let’s go.” and even though your body jolted underneath his touch as he took your hand to guide you down the shore back to the hotel —and you reminded yourself that this was all part of the lie you were playing—, you let him.

-

“how are our lovebirds?” garcia asked through the phone and you rolled your eyes.

“would be better if you’d catch this guy now…” you said, and heard snickers from the other part of the line.

“he’s behaving, isn’t he?” morgan inquired and spencer frowned.

“what?! what do you mean behave?” you shushed him.

“he’s not being so bad… usual reid.” morgan laughed. “any news on the unsub?”

“actually, yeah.” jj said. “we caught him lurking on the beach you guys visited, but he was far from our reach. seemed pretty angry.”

“so he’s getting closer…” you nodded.

“he seemed to buy into the lie of the relationship.” spencer hummed and you nodded.

“you guys need to keep it up. if our profile is right he will not stand still and watch, he’ll confront the two of you soon.” hotch said.

“alright. we will.” you promised.

“we’ll keep in touch.” emily said before the line went dead and the two of you looked at each other.

“what should we do now?” he inquired.

“go to the pool.” you smiled and he groaned. “come on. he needs to see us.” you said while getting a bikini and entering the bathroom to get changed. once done you got out and found him with a pair of red trunks. “now that’s the spirit.” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. “come on, reid. the sun is up and shining for us. time to sunbathe!” he took some of his books and his sunglasses, following after you out of your room and though the hallways of the hotel until you two were met by happy squealing and laughter from the children enjoying their time in the pool, splashing each other.

you two took a sun lounge each, his umbrella staying open while yours stood shut as you applied tanning oil to your skin after getting rid of your shorts. spencer kept his summer sheer shirt, laying sat up straight in the sun lounge as he quickly went through the pages, reading 20.000 words per minute. you laid on your own, bathing in the warmth of the sun as it prickled your skin.

you were enjoying the tranquility until some shadows took over your sun. you peeked your eyes open to see three girls standing over the two of you, sweet smiles on their faces as they stared at your right. more like… at spencer.

“hey.” one of them caught his attention, and his hazel eyes pulled away from his book towards the blonde.

“what are you reading?” a brunette asked him next, and he stuttered just the slightest before answering.

“uhmm… anna karenina. it’s from leo tolstoy from 1878. it deals with themes of betrayal, faith, family, marriage, imperial russia, society, desire, and the differences between rural and urban life. it’s actually my second time reading it. this time in the original russian.” he spat out, babbling as the three girls listening. more like ate him up with their eyes.

“you’re cute.” the third and last girl, another blonde smiled, and spencer’s eyes widened.

“could i get your number?” the brunette inquired him and you sat up straight, slightly clearing your throat, what made them look at you. “and you are…?”

you smiled. “his girlfriend.” spencer looked at you scandalized, what almost made you laugh. “i mean i get you guys…” you said with a smirk, leaning over him, your chest pressing against his as your arms circled his neck. his breath hitched as you hummed, looking at him before looking back at the three girls that now stunned looked at you. “he’s just too cute, isn’t he?” you took his face with one of your hands, making his lips pout out. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes. you smiled at him, his cheeks flushing at your words and the way your body just pushed closer against his. “but he’s mine.” you crooked your head towards the girls. “so if you don’t mind…”

“actually i do mind.” the brunette said. and your eyebrows rose. “i don’t see your name branded on him.” you slowly pulled away from spencer, getting on your feet.

you smiled softly at her. spencer didn’t like it one bit. you never smiled. not like that. “what’s your name?”

“ashley.” she answered, and you saw spencer getting up get beside your from the side of your eyes as you gave her a once over, your eyes landing on her pool heels. he was cautious, he knew something was wrong. sweet intelligent spencer…

“i like your shoes.” you started, simple, and she looked confused at you. “you gonna… be able to run in those?” you inquired.

“what?” and before she knew what was happening you were launching yourself towards her. good timing spencer was fast enough to catch you in between his arms as her friends pulled her away, running from you with ‘let’s go!’s.

“yeah, that’s more like it. see you, ashley!!!” you said while fighting spencer’s tight hold on you. “bitch…” you murmured when they got lost into the hotel. he let you go when you had seemingly calmed down and stared at you.

“what was that?”

“what? she was being a bitch.” you shrugged and got back to your sun lounge.

“no. i mean. what was that?”

“reid. i’m supposed to be your girlfriend… don’t you think that’s how a girlfriend would act?” you inquired him, and he looked around, scratching his nape.

“i mean, yeah but…” you cut him off.

“then it’s settled.” you said before closing your eyes and getting back with your sun.

he stared at you, still in shock and with flushed cheeks. his mind got filled with images and moments from the last days; you in the pool the night you’d thrown him in, how you had teased him, how your lips had almost touched his, last night at the beach when you had fallen on top of him… and now… seeing you that way, had done… things to him. things he didn’t want to accept. his whole body was tense, his heart was stuttering, his eyes whole face was red, and his stomach was feeling bubbly and… well. okay. no. enough.

he cleared his throat and sat down beside you, retrieving his book, trying to dismiss the knot in his throat. he looked at you. at your slowly tanning skin, the shine it had due to the oil you had bathed yourself in, your beautiful curves accentuated by the white bikini you’d gone for today, your soft features, your long lashes, your plump lips, your soft jaw, the soft skin of your neck, your…

when his eyes dropped too low he looked away, clearing his throat.

he tried to go back to the russian, but he was flustered. after minutes of trying to get back in focus, he gave up, getting up and pulling his shirt off, what caught your attention.

“where are you going?” you inquired.

“i was gonna go for a swim.” he pointed to the pool, and you sprung up.

“i’ll join you.” you smiled, and his heart stuttered at the recurring memories of that night in the pool. let it go, spencer.

following him into the water, you sigh at the fresh feeling of it engulfing you and making your overheated skin find solace.

spencer dampens his hair, pushing it backwards in a slick manner that exposes his strong cheek bones. but it’s when you finally stop staring at him that you notice it.

his breath hitched when your arms surrounded his neck, pulling him closer, your chest pressed against his as you spun in the water.

“what are you doing?” he inquired you, his hands subconsciously grabbing your hips. to push you away? to pull you closer? who knew…

“your twelve o’ clock. i think it’s our guy.” you muttered in his ear swiftly, smiling at him as if you were absolutely smitten, playing with his hair. spencer looked just for a moment. it was a white male, in his late thirties, wearing glasses and a cap, staring straight at the two of you with clenched fists.

“he surely doesn’t look happy.” he muttered to you, pulling you closer. “looks like it might be him.” you hummed. “what should we do?”

“well you should definitely act like you love me.” you smiled, cupping his cheek. “like this…” you looked straight into his eyes, and his breath hitched. if he didn’t knew better you’d have fooled him, ‘cause you were looking at him as if you craved nothing else, no one else but him.

you almost chocked when one of his hands found your hair, his breath pressing against your neck just before his lips did. “does this work?” he inquired you, pressing another chaste kiss on the sensitive skin.

you had to come and get back your trail of thought, ‘cause he had stolen it away just that easy. it was unnerving.

“you tell me. you’re the one facing him.” you whispered, and he hummed against your skin. you had to pretend as if it y didn’t send shivers down your spine.

“he’s just staring.” he stated.

“he wouldn’t dare do something with this much people around.” you figured.

“or maybe he just doesn’t want to taint his image before you. he wants to meet you in the perfect way, perfect place, perfect time.”

“what a romantic…” you rolled your eyes.

“he’s moving.” spencer announced.

“leaving?” you inquired and he nodded, his soft stubble scratching your neck and making you shudder in his arms.

“seems like it.” once out of sight he let you go, and you looked away from his eyes, the imprint of his hold on your hips still lingering on your skin, his kisses still burning your neck.

“he won’t be able to hold on for much longer...”

you nodded, fidgeting. “i’ll… i’ll go tell the team.”

“yeah. okay.” spencer copies your shake of head, and you got out of the pool, his eyes training on your back and down your body before he caught himself staring, quickly looking away and pushing his hair back anxiously. he could still feel the softness of your skin, smell the coconut tanning oil you’d lathered yourself in, remember how right you’d feel in between his arms, taking whatever he gave you…

he sighed. get it together reid.

but he had to spend a while in the water to properly calm down before making his way back to you. this was gonna end badly.

-

dinner with spencer was easy. it was a warm night. and he looked good. with a blue button up shirt and white pants along with his brown shoes. it was easy to talk to him, even easier to let him pay and let him walk you by his hand through the hotel and into the gardens of it. it was so easy to live this lovers lie that it terrified you. the moon and stars were shining bright above your heads, and the silence that filled the distance in between the two of you was as comfortable as it could get.

that was until he was breaking it to stutter about theories of the universe. theories you already knew. but for once you decided to keep quiet and listen to his rambling, enjoying the way his eyes sparkled with knowledge, the way his lips curled into a smile with every little fact that spilled from them…your heart was hammering inside your chest. it has been since the time in the pool. you were scared he could feel your heartbeat by how tight he was holding your hand. you’d come to understand that he wasn’t that bad. sure, he sometimes could get under your skin and make you lose your temper, but spencer reid could be as soft as a feather when he wanted to, and that made it all even worse. you were used to his narcissism, to his hatred, not to his ‘love’. was this how he really was or just another lie? just another façade? you were haunted by the feelings that this side of him flourished in your body.

“there’s someone following you.” since the spotting in the pool, the team had made sure to give you an earpiece each to communicate with you in case of emergency. jj’s voice made spencer’s waver, but to play along he just pulled you closer and continued with his theories. “seems like the man you told us about, y/n.”

you two slowly stopped walking, looking at each other as he kept talking, waiting for orders.

“he stopped. he’s just… watching.” emily announced and you inquired spencer and the team.

“what should we do? he’s not gonna come to us that easily…”

“reid, kiss her.” hotch ordered and his eyes widened, breath hitching and his hold on your hand hardening.

“what? no! i’m not going to kiss her!” he whispered-yelled, completely astonished.

“the physical contact will drive him to approach you both. we’ll be right there.” morgan chirped in, trying to convince his friend, soothe his anxiety. but spencer wasn’t scared of the unsub. he was scared of you. terrified. terrified by how good it felt to have you this close, to hold your hand, to see your smile, to share time with you… he wondered if this last thing would make him crack. would make him understand that it wasn’t hatred all along. he wasn’t sure he was ready to know the truth.

“there must be another way, i-“ he tried, but you groaned at his hesitation, taking the matter into your own hands.

“for the love of god, reid.” you grabbed at his curly hair, and in a tug, you pulled him down against your mouth. he froze at first, surprised, in shock at the soft feeling of your lips against his, at the feeling of your chest tightly pressed against him. but then it all completely changes, he can’t get enough. he cupped yor face in between his warm hands and pulled you closer, until there was no space between you two, something he must hate, but only finds himself enjoying. you gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside, pushing you against the wall of the hotel, devouring you as if he had been waiting years for this moment. you were air. and he was drowning.

“slow down…” you breathily moan against his lips, and he groans.

“i can’t.” he confessed.

the kiss that follows is just as desperate and harsh, your tongues dancing around the other as he kisses you like you’re everything he’s ever craved. you feel him press against you, and the feeling of a bulge on his crotch surprises you.

“you seem to be enjoying this a little bit too much, reid.” you said with a smirk as you felt his growing erection pushing against your thigh to find solace, some friction, anything to make him feel better. he’s losing control, he knows. but he looks into your dazed eyes and he knows you are falling just as hard. he hopes the fall doesn’t hurt as bad as his heart right now.

“i hate you.” he muttered against your lips.

“say it like you mean it.” and before he could kiss you again, the sound of a gun being loaded sounded.

“get away from her.” a male voice filled your ears and spencer stepped away from you, leaving you cold, confused and in need of more you thought you’d never crave. “get away!” he repeated pointing at him with the gun.

“okay, okay… calm down…” he softly said, taking a couple of steps away from you.

“how do you dare touch her?!” he screamed. he seemed scattered. “nobody should touch her. she’s mine!”

“no, she’s not.” spencer said just as morgan knocked the unsub to the ground, a shot being fired, the bulled burying itself inches away from you on the wall. he was quick to reach out for you as you looked down at yourself. “are you okay?” he inquired, taking your face, inspecting it.

“don’t touch her!” the man screamed again as you nodded.

“easy!” morgan yelled as he cuffed him up.

“yeah… i’m alright.” you muttered and spencer nodded, looking right into your eyes. you could still see his flushed cheeks, and his swollen wet lips, could see traces of you left behind. you wanted to taste him again. and again. and again. until the only thing you could remember was him and his lips, and the feeling of his body pressing against you.

that night. something changes. and it scares not only your bones, but your soul as well.

-

[minkiverse]

SONG MINGI FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Park Seonghwa - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho

The behemoth part two 🫡🫡 fun fact at the time of me writing this san and mingi have equal amount of posts on this blog and thats what you call being double-biased 👍👍 once again unfortunately this will have another part as i could not fit all my recs in this post fuck tumblr but i hope you all enjoy reading about my sweet sweet princess 🥹🥹 and give a lot of love to these authors!!!!

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

Princess pt 2 - @choisanboobenthusiast 🔥

it probably won't be shock that a lot of the mingi fics i recommend are sub!mingi and this is just the beginning 🤤🤤 HOW HE IS WRITTEN HERE IS JUST SO FUCKING CUTE I COULD CRY 😭😭 hes just so needy i- 🫠🫠

Under the Radar - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥 Fuckboy!Mingi ✧ Ongoing

like i said in my reblog i truly can understand mc because i would also be in love immediately with this man that it would be a concern for everyone around me 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ her making him chase her too AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THAT

Genesis - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗🍑 Fashion Mogul!Mingi ✧ SMAU

i will say the main trope of this story isnt for everyone BUT IT SURE AS HELL IS FOR ME!!!!! what can i say about this author's smau's they are so interesting with dynamic characters and plotlines but still so funny and i love mingi in this 😭😭😭😭

Use me pt 2 - @hwaightme 🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers

mingi is deeply in love with mc and offers himself up to them and i will cryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 hes just so precious in this two shot literally the sweetest bub that deserves everything 🥺🥺

show & tell pt 2 - @jensthwa ✨🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers AU

a friends to lovers trope will always get me especially when it starts with them "helping" each other which makes the realization that they love each other sosososososososoooooooo good 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

the princess treatment chronicles pt 2 - @yuyusuyu 💗 Friends to Lovers AU

oh god everyone in this fic is absolutely adorable 🥹🥹🥹 mingi has a list of how to make him fall in love and mc is doing a real good job at completing that list 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 THEY ARE JUST SO CUTE THIS IS JUST FLUFFY FLUFF I LOVE IT!!!!!

Dirty Little Secret pt 2 - @xosannie 🔥 Friends to Lovers ✧ Sex Worker!Mingi

mc stumbles across mingis secret twitter account and cant stop thinking about it but same of course absolutely completely normal reaction to seeing videos of mingi getting himself off like???????? n e ways mc gets to help mingi in his career what a good friend 🥰🥰

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES

Sweet Juice - @hongism 🔥 Magic AU

the patient in 206 - @frenchkisstheabyss 💗 Hospital AU

[5:04 AM] - @edenesth 💗

Untitled - @sluttywonwoo 🔥

Untitled - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Supernatural AU ✧ Ghost!Mingi

look at the way i ride - @biaswreckme 🔥

edging mingi - @1ovewoo 🔥

Untitled - @sluttywonwoo 🔥

realistic sex with mingi - @byuntrash101 🔥💗

[12:03 am] - @min-gis 🔥

steamroller - @fallinforgyu ✨🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers AU

this fic..... oh my god..... if i wasnt already in love with mingi THIS JUST MADE IT 10000000% WORSE 😭😭😭😭 childhood friends to lovers, pining, unrequited love (not really but u kno asdfsdfgfddf) and just the sweetest exploration of each other as they decide to lose their virginities together AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 😩😩😩😩😩 its just perfect ok i love them

Untitled - @thetypingpup ✨🔥 Dragon!Mingi

fucking sub dragon!mingi.... what else is there to say 🤤🤤 like him just soaking in the praise and possessiveness ohmygooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo😩😩😩😩

Tuesday | Seven - @sluttywoozi ✨🔥💗

we have 3 major hits in a row AND I AM LOSING MY MIND REREADING ALL OF THEM 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this is some of the hottest domestic smut ive ever read quite possible 🫠🫠 reader is so incredibly horny for mingi AND I LIVE FOR THAT SHIT and damn mingi is down 😩😩

Assert your Dominance - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥 Mechanic!Mingi

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

[The Pack Next Door] Mingi: Friends with Benefits - @gamerwoo 🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers ✧ Wererwolf!Mingi

Yeehaw - @desirehorizon 🔥

Kinktober Day 30 - @ateezreactionsandscenarios 🔥

Face Sitting with Mingi - @beenbaanbuun 🔥

Use it. - @a-soft-hornytiny 🔥

NSFW Alphabet - @sxcret-garden 🔥

Sleepless Inquiries - @catkyunie 💗

mingi x chubby!reader - @sluttywoozi 🔥💗

Untitled - @sluttywonwoo 🔥

After Work - @ateezscupid 🔥

It's okay, baby - @ateezscupid 🔥

Make Up - @nateezfics 🔥💗

12:06 - @desirehorizon 🔥

booksmart - @byuntrash101 ✨🔥

i am probably a broken record at this point but god do i love sub!mingi AND NERD LOSER MINGI FUCK ME😩😩😩😩😩 mc is such a good tutor for him wowowow 🤤🤤

Killer Eyes - @pirateprincessblog 🔥⛈️ Prisoner!Mingi ✧ Doctor!Reader

[9:47 PM] - @edenesth 💗

most vulnerable - @taexual ⛈️💗 Mafia AU

Hibiscus - @desirehorizon 🔥

Dear Princess - @ateezscupid 🔥 Medieval AU ✧ Vampire!Mingi

Unspoken Desires - @yourlocaljonghoe 🔥

play hooky - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥

under the sheets - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

save a horse, ride your best friend - @seonghwaddict 🔥💗 Friends to Lovers AU

pussy drunk w/ mingi - @beenbaanbuun 🔥

22:46 - @seonghwaddict 💗 Roomates AU ✧ Friends to Lovers AU

country boy w/ mingi - @beenbaanbuun 💗 Country Boy!Mingi

Hearts Awakened, Live Alive - @sorryimananti-romantic ✨⛈️💗 Fantasy AU Demon!Mingi

tortured cursed mingi my beloved 🥺🥺🥺 this was a fic i read early on into getting into ateez and it is so fucking good 👏👏 like the concept is so interesting (esp for someone like me who hasnt watched any ghibli movies) but catch me sobbing for erebos on a daily basis😭😭😭😭😭😭

Eyes Roll - @jjunieworld 🔥

Wave - @sorryimananti-romantic 💗 Teacher AU

Tired - @hongism 🔥💗

mind over matter - @mingisaddctn 🔥

worship w/ mingi - @beenbaanbuun 🔥

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Cowboy!Mingi

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Dragon!Mingi

brainless w/ song mingi - @beenbaanbuun 🔥💗

butterflies - @hwaslayer 🔥💗 Parent AU

11:15 pm - @minranghae 🔥

backseat serenade - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

boyfriend texts 2 - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

sacrifices - @lustfuldevils 🔥

Rainy Morning - @nateezfics 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

Dry Humping - @gingersxng 🔥

Untitled - @dairyminki 💗

Fantasize - @2cupids 🔥

song mingi as boyfriend - @mybelovedwoo 🔥💗

skinny dipping - @byuntrash101 🔥 Swimmer!Mingi

Sour Candy - @0097linersb 🔥

Track 017 - 2Seater - @desirehorizon 🔥

please baby - @starminzoo 🔥

still your biggest fan - @byuntrash101 🔥

Untitled - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥

situationship w/ song mingi - @beenbaanbuun ⛈️ SMAU

Untitled - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥

Baby Fever - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥

Untitled - @justaaveragereader 🔥

00:00 - @iannmin 💗

Untitled - @hrt4yongie 🔥

Untitled - @everyonewooeverywhere 💗 College AU

friends to lovers with mingi - @lxvemaze 💗🍑 Friends to Lovers

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥

Rings of Temptation - @crimsonbubble 🔥

6:52 pm - @323cutie 💗

Obsession - @everyonewooeverywhere 🔥⛈️

10:02 - @kwanisms 🔥⛈️💗 Hyena!Mingi

[daisynik7]

Rub You the Right Way

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating

Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.

Author’s Notes: First Choso fic! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Consider this my unofficial return from hiatus. Enjoy! Divider by the wonderful and super talented @/cafekitsune!

part 7 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime. 

You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him. 

He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”

You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”

He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”

“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.

Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”

You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.

“Thank you so much!”

As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment. 

It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.

You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside. 

~~~

Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him. 

“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets. 

It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him. 

“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”

Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe.  

“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”

Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.

At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?

Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely. 

This isn’t his. It’s yours.

Which means…

By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.

She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.

Oh fuck. 

~~~

It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.  

Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.

Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next. 

“Fuck!” 

An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…

You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.

Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.

Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”

He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”

You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”

He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it. 

It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”

You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”

“You don’t have to say that – ”

“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”

This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”

“I’m not lying!” you urge him. 

He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”

With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand. 

When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”

You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”

“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!” 

He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.”  It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering. 

You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”

“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”

You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”

~~~

Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants. 

“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.

He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows. 

You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”

He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything  and – 

“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more? 

“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.

He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating. 

“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.  

“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”

You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself. 

“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly. 

More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”

Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.

“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.

“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer. 

“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”

Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!” 

It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real. 

He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”

At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you. 

[larcenywrites]

Top 5 Logan's kinks 👀?

These are in no particular order!

Top 5 Kinks

Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW | no pronouns used for reader | there’s like- two cutesy moments if it counts for anything :3

Breeding/bare- Sure, Logan’s a man. He’s obviously going to prefer no condom. It just feels better for both parties! But Logan is a possessive man, and a territorial beast. It’s only natural for him to mark you in the most primal way he can! But in the case you are able to get pregnant… that’s actually terrifying. Logan is terrified of actually having kids… (which isn’t to say he doesn’t want them… but there are a lot of other problems involved with that 😅) But at his core, Logan is an animal. More so than a “normal” human. It’s literally just another part of his predator instinct. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rough fucking or making love, once he gets into it, you’ll have to remind him several times to pull out (assuming you remember yourself 😩). It also doesn’t help that he can literally smell when you’re ovulating 😳 he gets… pretty ornery— if he even can be more ornery than normal! He’s possessive and horny and really struggling to care despite the risk and his fears 😮‍💨 And with his nose buried in your neck the whole time, not very subtle as he breathes in your scent and damn near panting, it’s really all he can think about 🥴

Collaring- It probably took a lot of practice and maybe a little bit of taming, but Logan is very fond of collar time :3 I have a lot to say about this one, so there’s actually hcs right here! And maybe I just couldn’t think of another kink ;)

Play-fighting/Rough play- Obviously, the constraints of this kink will heavily depend on you 😅 But anything from a quick wrestle to digging your nails into his throat to—if you rile him up enough in the right situation—straight-up stabbing him is on the turn-on list 🤠 You could push him back on the bed a little too confidently, and you’ll activate that fighter instinct... and Logan is actually just pretty playful 🥹 He’s far too strong for you to actually push around very much, but he still likes to have you fight back ;) Don’t worry! Even when he puts you in a headlock between his big ol biceps, he’s still gentle! But fight back!!!!! Even if you know you won’t win!!! Bite his arm, kick him, something!!!!! Maybe having you struggle in his grasp turns him on (prey drive???), but actually having you fight back gets him rock-hard 😩 Training in the Danger Room? The others definitely give you both a hard time at every session now after a spar turned a little more hands-on one time… it was one time 😒 Back in the bedroom, he can enjoy some general rough play as well. Maybe it’s the healing factor, maybe he’s become quite the masochist after a century or two of living, but don’t be afraid to claw down his back and bite as hard as you need into his shoulder! Choke him while he’s collared, or when you’re feeling pretty confident while he’s letting you top for once! Unfortunately, he won’t have anything to show for all your hard work :( but he enjoyed it!

Grinding/dry humping- Logan is a man of action! And an impatient one at that when he’s gotten riled up. It probably took a while to get him into the groove of non-penetrative sex! Besides, sometimes that’s your only option 😅 But Logan is definitely a true believer now 😈 Wake him up by grinding bare on his tummy, or invade his little stress relief hideaway where he’s smoking and/or drinking to hump his thigh 😘 Watch him roll his head back and close his eyes with a sighed grunt of satisfaction. He doesn’t need to watch. Much more into the feeling, your smell, pawing at your thigh/ass… When it comes to full-on dry humping, the man probably swears more and gets more choked up than during penetrative sex 🥴 And for once, he prefers to be bottom while you ground your hips into his. He has to admit, there’s something about the friction of his jeans and the fact you’re both still fully clothed that’s surprisingly way more hot… or perhaps you’re even both still in uniform! Sometimes the adrenaline rush after training just can’t wait 😘

Scenting/smelling- Maybe not necessarily a kink? But it’s definitely something he does on a regular basis, sometimes without either of you really thinking about it! Sometimes he’s just being playful with it! Like sticking his head under your shirt and rubbing his face on your tummy a few times before just resting there with that heavy sigh dogs do when they get comfy in their bed 🥰 If he’s in a good enough mood and tired enough, you might even get a head bump or two to the shoulder while out with the others! It’s definitely not always so innocent and sweet, though… He can pick up smells better than a damn bloodhound, and, combined with that territorial instinct mentioned earlier, there’s definitely going to be some freaky stuff going on behind closed doors 😏 Yes, it’s probably going to be a bit embarrassing every time he sniffs your sex before going down on you. And when sticks his nose in the wet spots he just made you leave on the end 😐 And probably when he sniffs your neck before rubbing his face there. He’s absolutely gotten possessive about you smelling like another man… or maybe he just really doesn’t like waking up in bed to the smell of LeBeau lingering right next to him 😒 Cuddling is one thing, but when he starts trying to subtly rub you down with his face? Well, it’s not very subtle 😐 But he’ll make sure you smell like him again 😌 It settles his territorial side. It’s comforting, in a way! But it also definitely turns him on a little without him meaning for it! Especially when you walk through and he can smell his own arousal on you from the day before ;)

[abyssalzones]

can you tell us about your interpretation of the better world universe!!!! especially curious how stan/mystery trio works into it

hell yesssss I definitely can. ABW is maybe my favorite niche gf thing and probably the only "AU" I care about but that may be due to the fact that it's an AU that exists in the canon and we know so little about it. so it has an established foundation that you're left to fill in the details with yourself... it's like a poke bowl to me. you can put anything in there

and since I felt like it here's a bonus pic of them living their best lives pestering ford

[explanation-y stuff under ze cut because I got very longwinded]

as for specifics of how I see everything working out, there's a few key points that establish why things happened differently from canon, the most important being:

Stan agrees to hide journal #3 somewhere

Ford reunites with fiddleford and they begin working together again

both of these are already confirmed in canon, the first being the most obvious "schism" between timelines. literally everything in ABW is the way it is because stan made a different decision. kind of crazy in terms of its implications: I feel like that moment in the basement is a really good example of how stan gets so few opportunities to shape her own life (while ford is in the picture...) because of her role as the 'black sheep' twin. it's not exactly a premeditated decision to push ford into the portal, it's her acting on feelings that have been bubbling unaddressed under the surface for 10-something years at that point, and only then does she have any sort of power over the "narrative" of both her life and the story itself, something that from her pov has been ford's story. and in the canon timeline, she says no.

so like, what the hell made her say yes in ABW's timeline? this question kind of haunts me because I feel like it has to be entirely dependent on what the inside of stan's head looked like at the time. it's possible something influenced her, but overall I think it's more interesting if ford did and said all the exact same things up until this point and it really was entirely dependent on stan's decision internally.

so stan says yes, goes on a big trip to the other side of the world somehow, and buries journal 3 somewhere probably never to be found again. yay! but, uh, going on a trip like ford was suggesting would... take weeks. that would leave ford alone again. and not to have my established thoughts informed by new material or anything but bill did give him 72 hours.

so, next order of business: how in the fuck would ford convince fiddleford to rejoin him??? I'm unsure between journal 3 and tbob's information how ford may have tried to reach out to him but it seems like fiddleford was pretty adamant about staying away from that guy, out of guilt or fear of bill/the portal or both. I don't think logically it would just be a matter of ford calling him enough times or finding out where he lives- and I think that's kind of getting away from the point of why ABW is the way it is too. if stan is suddenly making decisions that are influencing ford's life, I think it would be similarly interesting if fiddleford also possessed some unique autonomy in this scenario.

aka I think ford got fucked up badly (possibly involving losing an eye) and fiddleford found him half-dead while trying to burn his house down. [mabel voice] romance!

to clarify: I don't think fiddleford is obligated to take care of ford. a major part of him leaving the project was finally making the decision to leave a situation that was hurting him, that he'd been staying in entirely because he still cared about ford and felt on some level he could still help him (which gets broken with "I don't need you!") and I think that's a very reasonable decision on his part. but I also do have to think about all the times ford has been "the hero" in situations where fiddleford ends up hurt and helpless because of something traumatizing. I think it'd be fascinating to see that reversed and have fiddleford actively making the difficult, messy decision to take care of that guy even when they're on miserable terms. and so begins like a solid week of these two desperately trying to look out for eachother in a nightmare scenario where one of them probably needs to go to a hospital + keeps getting possessed off and on and the other is going through the worst addiction/withdrawal cycle of his life irt the memory gun. yay! (part of the reason this even works To Me also is heavily informed by the lack of secrets: if fiddleford is actively dressing that guy's wounds he can't really keep it all to himself anymore. crushingly intimate perhaps...)

stan gets back eventually. such is the context of this pic

from there it's a nebulous grab-bag of things I think could happen up to the foundation of the institute.

how do all three of these incredibly fucked up individuals get along? well they don't but then they do.

how do they get bill out of ford's head without performing amateur brain surgery? idk. my best guess is a fiddleford and stan bonding trip into ford's mindscape that potentially helps answer the first question. possibly utilizing the memory gun. shrugs.

what's up with that one picture you drew of parallel fidds holding the memory gun up to ford's head? well. okay that one might or might not be something that actually happened but the idea was just that ford is coping badly with a few specific things and I liked the idea of fiddleford "holding onto" something for him to remember and work through later when he's ready to deal with it, it's an interesting reversal of how he's normally more of a memory sink.

from the point in canon about them stabilizing the portal so that bill can't use it to get into their dimension anymore onward, I think it just becomes a matter of them living the lives they could've always had in canon without realizing it. hence "a better world." some cool tidbits I like to think about:

stan gets to transition much earlier (late 1990's perhaps?) and probably starts going by "lee" instead

she's also the institute's CMO and is mostly in it for going on business trips abroad with ford. and the money. obviously.

the institute probably also legitimately changes the world on a sociopolitical scale outside of just interdimensional travel since their research renders them uniquely untouchable and all three of them are trans (I'm cartoon logic-ing a little bit here just let me have this one)

ford is the eccentric bill nye esque face of the company, fiddleford is the backbone. that isn't to say ford doesn't do anything as I think he'd always moreso be in it for the science than the fame (though it is nice to be more than comfortable financially) but it's an open secret fiddleford keeps tabs on literally everything, he's still very security-oriented.

the northwest family now has a more prominent ongoing rivalry with the pines family that could be very funny to think about. they've taken all the LOGGING JOBS with their damn SCIENCE

part of the reason I thought ford should lose an eye is because I think having him wear an eyepatch would be a neat way to parallel stan's "role" as mr. mystery visually! stan wears an eyepatch for no legitimate reason to keep up appearances as a schlocky tourist trap host, but it also alludes to her being more than she seems under the surface. ford's eyepatch does sort of have a legitimate reason to exist, but he also could just wear his glass eye and it would probably be less "conspicuous." he chooses the eyepatch instead because it's part of his image as Stanford Pines, Founder of Oddology, and because it keeps him safe. there's also a little residual scarring there from damage to his eyelid/tarsal plate which could easily represent him hiding the more "damaged" aspects of himself under his successes. ouch.

I'm unsure if ford and stan would ever feel comfortable getting back in touch with their parents. I know a lot of people go that route with fan material but I don't think they should have to. I think they're much happier now having healed the rift between them on their own and getting to live successful lives for themselves, rather than to prove something to their father.

that being said I do think fiddleford gets in touch with emma-may and his son again and they end up on better terms with time and a Lot of effort. tate's family is now composed of his father, mother, "uncle" ford (in the ye olde gay closeted sense of referring to your dad's partner as an uncle), and auntie lee, and I like to think they go out on trips to the lake together often :]

also ford and fiddleford tie the knot unofficially (in the eyes of the government anyway) in 1990. owed to stan somehow getting "ordained" as a rabbi. don't ask me how.

the pines twins start visiting the institute from a younger age than they do irt visiting stan in the show-- but they're only permitted to come along on heavily-supervised interdimensional excursions once they turn 12. cue antics!

anyway, hopefully this extremely longwinded and loosely structured mess helped answer your question. I like ABW sooo so so much you guys

[nikkento-writes]

Rub You the Right Way - Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating

Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.

Author’s Notes: This is a repost from my old account! It's the first Choso fic I've ever written and I enjoyed it so much that I wrote a Part 2 and a Part 3 (coming soon)! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime.

You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him.

He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”

You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”

He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”

“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.

Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”

You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.

“Thank you so much!”

As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment.

It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.

You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside.

~~~

Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him.

“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets.

It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him.

“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”

Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe. 

“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”

Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.

At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?

Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely.

This isn’t his. It’s yours.

Which means…

By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.

She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.

Oh fuck.

~~~

It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.  

Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.

Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next.

“Fuck!”

An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…

You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.

Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.

Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”

He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”

You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”

He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it.

It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”

You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”

“You don’t have to say that – ”

“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”

This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”

“I’m not lying!” you urge him.

He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”

With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand.

When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”

You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”

“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!”

He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.”  It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering.

You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”

“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”

You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”

~~~

Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants.

“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.

He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows.

You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”

He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything  and –

“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more?

“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.

He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating.

“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.  

“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”

You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself.

“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly.

More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue.

You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”

Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.

“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.

“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer.

“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”

Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!”

It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real.

He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”

At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you.

[star-girl69]

So It Goes…

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: the one day chiron decides to switch up the capture the flag teams, and everyone knows you’re clarisse’s weakness, In A Good Way sequel!!

i changed my theme it’s me tho promise

a/n: protective clarisse the love of my life i love you i do i think we should get married actually anyways this one is sooooooo i got to explore a more casual side of clar’s and reader’s relationship in this (for like a min) i hope you all enjoy!!

So It Goes… - Taylor Swift

warnings: soft clarisse my love, protective clarisse we KNOW how i feel abt her…., also slightly possessive clarisse i think i love you too, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, clarisse picks reader up which i KNOW is not inclusive (im literally plus-sized idk what the hell am i doing) but it was so good i couldn’t resist, she has like super strength probs so i’ll just believe (she literally could not pick me up i need to stop being delusional), swearing, violence, kissing, a bit suggestive but nothing crazy, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse’s bed is one of your favorite places. You’ve spent so many nights here, wrapped up in her arms, feeling like no one could touch you. And you’ve spent secret days with her hands on your waist, yours in her hair, lips pressed together so tight it’s like you were each other’s oxygen.

You love Clarisse’s bed. And you know Clarisse loves her bed too, seeing as it’s a huge source of pride for her- it’s the best bunk in the cabin, and she gets a major kick over the fact that you sleep here just as much as you sleep in your own cabin.

You’re sitting down, watching Clarisse pace back and forth, her spear in her hand.

“Clarisse,” you say. She brought you here just fo freak out. Now she won’t sit down and let you help her, and she wont just freaking listen. “Clarisse, baby, what’s wrong? Can you at least put your spear down so you don’t accidentally kill somebody? If you kill me with that I’m gonna come back and kill you.”

She stops for a moment and leans her spear up against the wall. You let out a sigh.

“Now just sit down-”

She resumes her pacing.

As much as you love just being in Clarisse’s presence, as much as you know you’re her rock, the only thing that keeps her tethered in the storm she constantly fights through, you need her to let you help her.

“Clarisse!” you stand up, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out, okay? What happened? I-I’m sure we can fix it, I mean…” you rub your hands up and down your arms, which you know she likes, her muscles are one of her biggest sources of pride.

She sits down, letting you stand in between her legs, her hands moving to hold your hips.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s not very good at handling her emotions, but she’s getting better, and at least she’s able to recognize and apologize when her emotions are hurting other people. Well, you, at least. She breathes out. “Chiron decided to switch the teams.”

And now she had to work with the Athena cabin? The Gods know after the Ares and Athena cabins have captained opposing teams for years, Chiron pretends there’s not, but everyone knows there’s a deep rivalry. More than just friendly competition.

“The Demeter cabin will be on the red team.”

“Okay,” you say, squeezing her shoulders. You aren’t really close with anyone from the Demeter cabin, it doesn’t really bother you much.

“And… the Aphrodite cabin will be on the blue team.”

“Oh.”

You’ve never not been on Clarisse’s team for capture the flag. Not only does the entire red team’s tactic rest on you using your charmspeak to protect the flag, but what the hell are you supposed to do fighting against Clarisse?

She wraps her arms around your waist, flopping back onto her bed and bringing you down on top of her.

“I know it’s all Annabeth and Luke behind this. I’m sure that little smartass has made up some sick plan to make me go insane.”

You scoff, planting your hands behind her head on the bed. “You’re the one who can actually fight. I’m, like, so bad it’s not even funny, Clar.”

“You beat me all the time,” she frowns.

And it’s true, you spar with her at least 3 or 4 times a week, and you win most of the those times. But Clarisse moves slower, she doesn’t hit as hard, she anticipates your next move and doesn’t block it so you can land a hit.

“We both know you let me win.”

“I like seeing you smile,” she says, her own matching smile on her face.

“Okay, you big romantic.” You let your hands slip, laying your head against her chest and your arms flat around her head. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clar. I’m sure it’ll be fine, then Chiron’ll probably switch them back.”

“Annabeth convinced him to do it. She has some sort of plan, Y/N, she does.”

“You’ve mentioned,” you hum. “Stop stressing. Nothing we can do about it.”

“Fine,” she hisses.

She wraps her arms around your waist and throws you to the side so you yelp, now she’s climbing on top of you, laying her head on your chest.

“It’s going to be the worst game of capture the flag in history, you know. I hope you’re happy, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do without you. I mean, I guess I could move that group in the west side to just south of the flag, so that’ll be a bit more for them to get through. Oh, I’ll stick that one good archer on the ground- no, no that wouldn’t work, I need him in the trees. But I’ll move his position-”

—-

You walk to the woods together. When it’s time to split up, Clarisse grabs you by your armor and points her finger into your chest.

“Clar, what the hell are you doing-”

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, blinking once to avoid rolling your eyes at her ridiculousness.

She smirks, her arm squeezing your waist. She pecks you on the lips before pulling away completely.

“Done making out?” Jackie asks, her and Tyla suddenly appearing next to you.

“It was one kiss, Jacks. Are you sure we have the same Mom?”

“No, honestly.”

You fall into step with the two of them, laughing as you make your way through the woods and to the edge of the river.

Chiron makes his usual speech, the conch sounds, and everyone starts moving around.

Annabeth finds the three of you soon after. Tyla and Jackie fall away, following your other siblings. Annabeth always has this calculating look on her face, like she knows something you don’t, a true child of Athena. You have to admit, she really is one of the smartest people you know.

“Annabeth,” you smile. “I guess you want me by the flag?”

“No, I debated that, but I decided against it.”

She smirks and looks at you before spinning around, pointing to Luke and his team members who are always in charge of getting the flag.

“You’ll be with Luke.”

You frown. “You do realize I have absolutely no skill in battle, right, Annabeth?”

“Yeah, but skill doesn’t matter when you have power. Power over someone.”

“Oh, okay. Who do you want me to charmspeak-”

“Charmspeak whoever you come across, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You have power over Clarisse. I know she’s defending the flag today, right?”

She looks at you sharply.

You smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. But if you say so, sure.”

She starts walking, you follow her.

“Clarisse doesn’t talk strategy to you? I mean, I talk Luke’s ear off.”

“Oh, no, she does, I just don’t really retain any of it.”

She huffs a small sound of laughter.

“I know she’ll be there,” she affirms.

“If you say so!” you say, all sing song, Luke smiling as he meets your eyes.

“Y/N! How’s it feel to finally be on the winning team?”

“I love being on the red team, thanks for asking.”

“Ha. You’re so funny, are you sure you’re not a child of Apollo?”

“Too beautiful,” you glide your hands down your face. “I get it from my godly mother.”

“Luke, do you know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asks.

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiles and walks away, talking to more people while you can faintly hear Clarisse shouting at people. With the change in tactic, you know she’s been slightly stressed, but she won’t allow herself to feel anything other than confidence, outwardly.

She still walks tall. She still grips her spear in her hand a little to tight. She’s a bit too greedy with the things that are hers, she grabs on a bit too tight, but you know it’s just because she’s scared. You like it.

If this were a regular game, you would probably be walking next to Clarisse right now, or kissing her goodbye while you follow Matty and everyone else to go protect the flag.

When you and Clarisse first started dating, she was slow to be so affectionate, but the more of her walls you started breaking down the more you found a complicated teenage girl who felt unloved, and had a lot of love to give too.

The more confident she became in your private relationship, the more she wanted everyone to know. It was her fatal flaw, pride, hubris. She wanted everyone to know she was yours and your were hers. She wanted everyone to be jealous.

“I’m so glad we don’t have to wear those horrible earplugs today. They always make me worried. Someone could be shouting a few feet away and none of us would hear.”

“Stop gloating, Luke.”

“I’m just expressing my gratitude, Y/N, is that not allowed?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Oh, oh, I know. You’re sad, aren’t you?”

“Sad?” you snort.

“Yeah, sad. Sad you aren’t with Clarisse. You’re devastated, destroyed, wrecked.”

You put your hand on your sword. “Who are you… and what have you done with Luke Castellan? Luke doesn’t know that many words…”

He hits your shoulder. “Shut up, Y/N.”

—-

You’re walking through the woods.

Not sneaking around in stealth, not running, but walking.

You’ve come across a few of your former team members, but one of the blue team just tackles them and you tell them to turn around and count to 5,000.

For some reason, it’s worse than sitting by the rock, waiting for someone to make a play for the flag. At least at the rock you’re surrounded by all these people you know. You and Matty are usually talking, Marjorie sometimes joins, and you all have fun bullying Corey for that one time he didn’t see the blue team coming.

Luke’s voice drops to a whisper.

“Here’s your job. You can either, one, go make out with Clarisse in a corner, which shouldn’t be too hard-”

“Luke,” you hit his shoulder. He hisses.

“I’m joking, joking. Just keep her distracted, fight her, maybe pull your shirt down a bit? Oh, or I can just cut it so it’s a bit more revealing-”

“Luke, shut up or else I will make you.”

“It’s not a bad idea-”

“Luke!”

“Sh, sh,” he whispers. “Don’t be so loud, we’re almost to the flag. We’re going for stealth, okay?”

“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” you deadpan. He looks around.

“Blue team, stealth mode, alright?”

Everyone nods. You roll your eyes. You miss the red team.

—-

After Luke gives you the ok, meaning the blue team has successfully surrounded the red team and the clearing, you take a step forward.

Annabeth was right. Clarisse is there.

It’s fitting. If you can’t be there, she would.

You look up at Corey, but he hasn’t noticed any of you yet. You frown, thinking about how he’s probably going to get beat up.

“Clarisse!” you shout. You watch everyone jump into defensive positions. She can’t see you yet, but she stares in the direction of your voice, her eyes squinting, smiling softly.

“Luke?” she shouts. “That you?”

You frown.

“What the hell?” you say, stepping forward. “You don’t recognize my voice? I thought that was really smart. Like, a cool way to reveal myself, I don’t know.”

You come into the clearing, sword by your side.

Clarisse’s smile drops.

“I-I- no, baby, I just wasn’t expecting Annabeth to send you here-”

“Do I really sound like Luke?”

“No,” she says, immediately. “You sound like an angel.

Matty laughs. Clarisse stabs his foot with the end of her spear. She smiles at you.

“Is Luke here though?” Marjorie asks, subtly trying to look through the trees.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you do,” Matty snorts.

“You’re going to tell me though right, baby?” Clar smiles, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you.

“Obviously not, you didn’t recognize me. I’m, like, really hurt by that Clarisse-”

“Gods, Clarisse,” Matty shouts at the sky, laughing. You didn’t recognize her, and now we’re all fucked!”

“Shut the fuck up, Matty,” she says over her shoulder. She looks at you, smiling again, her hand reaching out to touch your face. “I’ll let you do that thing you’ve always wanted to do.”

You smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll let me give you a makeover? Really?”

“Yes.” Her teeth grit, but she keeps smiling, her thumb rubbing your cheek.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes fixing on her spear when you suddenly reach forward, grabbing it from her hands and turning to run away.

The blue team emerges from the woods with war cries, swords start clashing, and it all happens so fast.

The plan was for you to grab her spear, make her chase you around the woods, and hopefully the blue team would be able to overpower the red team without her.

Instead, Clarisse kicks out her foot, tripping you. Then, she catches you and the spear in what you swear has to be a milisecond.

“Clarisse!” you shout, genuinely offended. She beat you so easily. It wasn’t even a fight. You didn’t even get the chance to run.

“Sorry, baby, it’s capture the flag!”

You about to start kicking like a wild animal when she suddenly lets you go. Luke is there, fighting her while you pick your sword up from the ground that fell in the commotion.

One of your team members dropped their helmet and you pick that up too.

You’re not that bad of a fighter, Clarisse just knows everything about you, you tell yourself. But your pride is slightly wounded and you want to prove to her, yourself, and everyone that you’re not just a weak Aphrodite kid or some poor thing that hangs off Clar’s arm.

You can hold your own.

You stick the helmet on and step into the fight. Someone groans and a sword comes wishing through the air, but you block it.

They swing again.

You block it.

You picked up things from Clarisse, and, besides, you weren’t just sparring for fun. She actually teaches you, better than the actual sword practice teacher if your biased opinion is to be trusted.

But you probably just feel that way because she rewards you with kisses.

It seems like you’re actually winning for a second, about to disarm him, when he seems to get fed up with fighting you and suddenly arcs hard over your head, making you lose your footing and letting him kick you.

You land on your back, groaning and trying to catch your breath.

“That was such a bitchy move,” you mumble. He leans over you, about to kick the sword out of your hand-

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Samuel.”

She holds her spear right under his throat, and he finally seems to look at your face instead of just your blue helmet.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Clarisse, I’m sorry.”

She looks like she’s about to kill him but she just pushes him away.

“I was winning,” you groan. “But then he kicked me.”

She kicks him as he walks away.

You expect her to tug you up and start lecturing you but instead she leans down and throws you over her shoulder.

“Wha- Clarisse!”

“That’s enough for you today,” she says, patting the back of your thigh.

“Clarisse, I swear to Hades, let me down!”

“One second,” she mumbles.

When she places you down on the ground again, you’re leaning against a tree. She grabs your hand, frowning at something.

It’s the smallest cut, barely there, but Clarisse of course acts like it’s the end of the world.

“Does it hurt?”

Your eyes fix on Luke behind her, stalking slowly towards her turned back.

“No, Clar, it’s fine. Now I-”

“I think you should go the nurse.”

Your mouth drops open. “Clarisse, it’s a paper cut!”

“And if it gets infected? Go away, Luke, I can hear you.”

He locks eyes with you but ultimately turns around with a very scared and annoyed look on his face.

“Now do you see why I was all messed up? I knew this was going to happen. You were gonna get hurt, and it was going to be my fault.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Clarisse-”

“But isn’t it? You would have been at the flag if Annabeth hadn’t known how much you mean to me. Instead, you were here. Instead, you were rushing off to go fight someone-”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Clar!”

She presses her lips together.

“I can fight too. Not as good as you, but I can. I-I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to rely on you for everything, it’s- it’s embarrassing.”

You didn’t even know you were feeling this way until you felt it. But it’s always been there, you guess. You always watch Clarisse spar and know she could never do anything like that with you. And you thought you were fine with it, and you are fine with having things that you like and things that she likes- but you don’t want to be so useless anymore.

She’s silent for a second.

“I- I get that. I do. But I just don’t know how to tell you I… I love you without showing it. I’m not good at saying it, you know that.”

“Clarisse,” you frown.

She puts her hands on your face.

“You are… the most precious thing in the world to me, Y/N. I really hope you know that.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, you can feel her heart thump from the fight.

“I know that, Clarisse. Of course I know that. You show me every day, I just- I just want to feel like my own person.”

She grips you tighter. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll teach you to fight. But you have to do it how I say, and you can’t go off and do this-”

You pull back so you can make sure this is real.

“Really?” you smile.

“You have to listen to me, Y/N, and do it slowly, okay-”

“Yes, yes, yes, okay, yes,” you breathe, planting your hands on your face before kissing her. It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s exactly what you think of when you think of her. You think of the side that’s yours, the side that only you can see.

You break it, leaning down to pick up her spear.

The red team is losing the fight behind you.

“Ok, go win capture the flag. And I’ll stay here. My hand does kinda hurt,” you mumble.

She smiles and kisses your cheek. “Not just a paper cut, huh?”

“Can I still give you a makeover?” you ask as she turns away.

“Maybe!”

—-

y/n: what why did you not recognize me ☹️☹️

clarisse, genuinely terrified: i have no idea what the hell you are talking about please please please don’t take away kissing privileges please please please

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008

(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!)