#it's just so cute to me how he keeps falling more and more in love the more he learns about ash sjjqndhqjs

[anothermaletfwriter]

Invigorated Waters

(Long story ahead)

This vacation was supposed to fix their relationship, if only Jacob (on the left) had been more specific with his wish.

Jacob had planned out this trip with his long-time boyfriend, Adam. They had met on their sophomore year of college and were now both 35 years old. While the early times were sweet, Jacob found it difficult to maintain the same love he once held for over a decade. He had initially attributed it to their relationship stabilizing and becoming stable before he realized that it was physical attraction as well. Neither of them were as physically fit as they were back in college. They even admitted they hadn’t had good sex in years. Jacob felt even more guilty of his dying love especially after he accidentally spoiled himself of a planned engagement in the upcoming month on Adam’s phone.

After many nights researching how to revive a dead bedroom and ignoring the numerous suggestions, though most were demanding enough to be orders, of breaking up, he scheduled a two week long trip in the Palawan province of the tropical country of Philippines. It was an ideal place to resurrect his love. The warm weather would soothe any tensions and the novel experience a new country could spontaneously reignite his love for soon-to-be SO. He had planned out the entire itinerary: staying at the most expensive luxury hotel, island hopping via the boat tour, eating at local restaurants and exploring other tourist destinations. The costs of love necromancy slammed his savings he built up as a digital marketer.

Most of the vacation passed and it was days till they had to get to the airport and fly back home to the states. Jacob found himself somehow drifting even further apart from Adam. His passion was still dead. It wasn’t fixed by the countless colorful corals they snorkeled through, the sweetness of their halo-halos, the countless Filipino ballads playing throughout the whole beach town or even the cute tropical locally-made souvenirs he bought for Adam. He even downloaded Grindr for a week to find a 3rd but not even a third person could spice up the bedroom. His intrusive thoughts of sleeping other men only became more rampant.

The night after an uneventful day of scuba diving and street stall dining of fishballs and taho, Jacob stayed up to feel Adam’s warm hairy chest just for a slight chance of him rediscovering what made him fall in love with him in the first place but it was no use. It was a history of their touches and he felt the end was near. At this rate, he didn’t know what to do. Break up and re-do their entire lives separately? Or suppress his dead love pass the engagement and then the wedding and be miserable underneath to keep Adam happy? Maybe his façade would shatter during their marriage and a divorce would follow. His thoughts swirled around like a typhoon, wrecking his visions of an ending love life. The white noise of an inevitable disaster surrounded his ears, pushing him deeper into their waves until his phone dinged.

Jacob stared at the brightly notified phone with his tired eyes and read a Telegram message.

“I can help with your boyfriend problems,” It was sent by an unknown number.

“I don’t have a lot of money left. I spent it all on this vacation.”

“Don’t worry it’s free. Meet me outside your hotel lobby in 10 minutes.”

Jacob hesitated to respond. His gut told him against the offer. At best, it was a prank text and at worst, he didn’t want to imagine the worst. But he needed to do anything to bring back his love life so he reluctantly messaged, “Okay, I will. See you there.”

Before he went down to the lobby, he held Adam tightly and gave him a kiss on the lips. Despite him being a heavy sleeper, the kiss caused a smile to form. His sneakers shuffled on the brightly clean ceramic floors before they crunched on the gravel path out. The honks and roars of the jeepneys and clinks of other people’s flipflops collided in the warm humid air. An overhead purple mosquito zapper beeped, a few sparks coming out of it.

An attractive Filipino man, presumably in his early 20s, who wore a grey cap and a blue muscle tee that revealed his defined arms, approached him. Introducing himself as Joshua, he revealed he was the one texting him as he himself was an Engkanto, a human being with magical powers. He went on to list the many tourists relationships he had solved, and mentioned that problems like of Jacob and Adam were his bread and butter.

Jacob felt uneasy as the young man spoke to him. There was nothing off about his appearance, in fact he envied his physique as it reminded him of a younger, prime version of himself. There was an unexplainable chill and pang of distrust that rang through his bones yet he felt compelled to go with him.

He followed Joshua through the forest on the way to a hut, where he would perform the love ritual that was said to bring back any love, even if one of the partners was dead. Jacob’s heart fastened worriedly as he delved deeper into the jungle, damp grass brushing past his lower eggs and piercing through the eerie silence of the dark greenery. The small hut was made of bamboo, elevated a few feet off the ground. Jacob walked up the stairs, hearing Joshua shuffle through his pocket. The interior was dimly lit, with a purple candle in the middle, with nothing else. No sacred symbols or sacrificial totems or skulls.

Joshua motioned him to sit down, across from the candle. Jacob sat on the cold rickety floor.

Joshua followed after him, sitting opposite. He took out a small black canister from his pocket and opened it, scooping some of the purple goo. From the dim light, it resembled candle wax but of a thicker and more transparent consistency.

“This will bring back your love for your boyfriend,” Joshua said, his voice calm and deep. He brushed a generous amount on Jacob’s forearm, “Adam right?”

“Yeah his name is Adam,” Jacob didn’t even dare to ask him any rational questions, like how he figured his relationship problem all out or how he got his number. He chalked it up to Filipino magic. The goo felt warm on his forehead. He began to feel tired, though he was sure it was due to how late at night he was staying up, “How does it work?” He yawned.

“Some magical spirit energy stuff, it’s too hard to explain to normal humans,” Joshua brushed the goo on his own forehead as well, an evil grin that stretched past what a normal human could emote escaping through. It was last sight Jacob remembered before he fell asleep. There were no dreams of reuniting with Adam along the beach that represented his renewed love or flashbacks to his first date at the college town’s Waffle House, just darkness in his sleep.

Jacob woke up with an intense energy next morning. But his bedroom was different. He knew from the bright green walls and sturdy fan swaying that he was not at the luxury hotel with expensive AC and gigantic windows that overlooked the forest but at a house. He reached to grab to his side but Adam wasn’t there.

“Holy shit,” He exclaimed to himself, hearing his new voice and Filipino accent. He felt up and down his face, free from any facial hair and his Adam’s apple poking out more. He looked down on his stomach, differing from the white and flabby belly, it was smooth, tan and shredded with his abs. He glazed his soft hand across the crevices between his abs before he squeezed his bigger chest. He stroked his arms, admiring the craftsmanship of his biceps. He opened the phone camera, as muscle memory let him unlock it. His hair was short and jet black, face slimmer and youthful. It was real. He had swapped bodies with Joshua!

Jacob messaged him frantically, “Dude, give me back my fucking body.”

An instant response followed, like Joshua had been expecting it, “Relax. I’ll give it back once I fix your body’s love. It will take some time. While you wait, have fun in my body. I’ll let you know when we can swap back.”

Son of a bitch. Jacob searched his short’s pockets and found the container from last night, it felt lighter but he shook it, hearing the weird liquid droopy noises. He still had the swapping purple goo, ready to use to swap them to normal again, whether Joshua wanted to or not, “You better swap us back before we have to leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll hear back before sunset. Just enjoy yourself and your new body, I worked hard in building it :)”

Jacob shut off the phone and rubbed his hands on his forehead out of frustrations. Part of him believe he had been tricked but the optimistic portion of him expected a fixed relationship before he went to bed that night. He thought of how badly he was missing his boyfriend, planning not to sleep with anyone as he didn’t want to betray Adam.

He got off the bed and stood on the floor, realizing the world was shorter than he remembered in his old body. He was the only inhabitant of the house, hearing no one else except TFC on the large TV in the living room. More memories of the body permeated through his mind, as his hands and brains coordinated together through the fridge and cabinets to cook a typical Filipino breakfast of garlic fried rice, bangus, cherry tomatoes and tortang talong. The tangy savory flavors meshed well in his new tongue. Jacob hoped that when he returned to his original body, he would remember how to cook the Filipino food. While cleaning the dishes, his phone dinged.

Heart pounding from anxiety, he opened to Telegram. But he was disappointed that it was someone else. Jacob was surprised as he was able to understand the Tagalog frequently. The text came from Tomas, a 35 year old, also a local like Joshua, and one of his fuck buddies.

“Handa ka na ba para sa aming pre workout session?” (Are you ready for our pre workout session?)

Jacob was quick to nearly decline the message but before his smooth fingers could hit send, a surge of lust overpowered his body. More memories of Joshua started to infiltrate and even replace some of his own. Jacob was unable to recall the first few moments of relationship, not even during their college years. He was losing himself to the Joshua’s consciousness. Why wouldn’t he accept the offer? He was young and he had a terrific body that anybody would kill to have, let alone have sex with. That’s why he was popular in not only Grindr but on OnlyFans as well. Local neighbors to travelers from across the country and even internationally were common visitors to his bedroom. But that was Joshua, not Jacob. He was still Jacob, even if he wasn’t in his original body, unfortunately that didn’t matter as his fingers deleted the declining message and sent a thumbs-up emoji.

His fears of assimilation quickly dissipated when Tomas arrived at his front door for their ‘session’. He was a paler muscle daddy Tito that worked from home as an accountant, taking frequent breaks at work. Joshua-Jacob closed the door as he led him to his bedroom like it was a weekly routine. Quick to strip down, Joshua-Jacob ripped off his black shorts and underwear, unleashing the monster between his legs. He stroked it frantically before Tomas stopped any premature actions.

Tomas’ mature yet energetic face stared seductively at Joshua's eyes, stroking his tender jawline and playing with his straight black hair. Tomas whispered to him, smirking as he took off his clothes, down to his tight red thong that barely covered his older bubble butt, “Huwag sayangin ang iyong enerhiya” (Don’t waste your energy yet)

At first, Jacob returned to consciousness. He was a total sub bottom as the last time he recalled topping was before his first hookup with Adam. Now this body was a prime example of a dom top. With each thrust, more of Joshua returned back to form, getting more prominent. Joshua held on the older man’s wide muscular waist as he clapped his firm cheeks vigorously, causing the both of them to moan loudly, after all, their noises were drowned out by the vehicles on the road outside. Sweat dripped down from his pecs to his six pack and eventually to his double digit inch cock, shaved perfectly. A shot of dopamine hit through his system as he finished inside of the older man. His legs shook as he continued on for a second round on the hot piece of meat that posed in front of him, finally stopping after a few more minutes.

Tomas laid ass up on his bed with Joshua’s seed leaking from his looser hole. He caught his breath, sweating, “Wow, iyon ay mas kamangha-mangha kaysa sa karaniwan mong ginagawa.” (Wow that was more amazing than you usually do)

Joshua continued to flex his body for his cocky ego. He had the physique and libido e of a young God. Without thinking, words left his mouth, “Mas may energy ako ngayon.” (I have more energy today)

After they cleaned up, they went to the gym together, where Joshua snuck in a quick blowjob after doing a chest day that would have ended him in his original body. Once their pumps wore off and it was time for Tomas to go back to work, they went off separately for the rest of the day.

Joshua, whose heart and dick couldn’t stop pounding from the new lingering memories of pounding the bubble butt of the muscle daddy, sat on the beach shirtless, hoping to catch a few waves and perhaps a few more dudes. He relaxed as the sun reflected off his tan skin. He could get used to this carefree lifestyle, no worries about monogamy or the sorts. That was Joshua, though. Jacob yearned for the intimate warm touches that Adam used to give him, even if all he now remembered of him was of the past month. Time was running out.

Joshua-Jacob frantically spammed Jacob-Joshua, berating him for not telling him about the memory destruction result from body swapping. There was not even a left on read message. He must be having plenty of fun with Adam. His fears of not making it back to his old lifestyle and body vanished as a wave of libido and energy devoured him yet again. The once suppressed guilty desire of fucking other men other than his boyfriend conquered him again. Joshua's spirit took over again.

Joshua-Jacob began the rest of the day on Grindr, with the goals of finding more hookups and parties. It was a wonderful experience, fucking so many different men, from on a boat to a secluded spot on the beach and even in the hotels near the one he was staying in originally. He never tired out, often going for multiple rounds like he did with Tomas, with no need for breaks except for water. The men lusted him for his physique, youthful endurance and the powerful thrusts he made with his member and hips. Many of them hoping to see him again and continued to message him on social media.

Joshua finally rested at a bar. He had finished his American cheese burger and a healthy kale salad. His seat faced the ocean. The sun was orange, its rays glimmering on his glamorous muscles and on his deep dark brown eyes. He found it hard to imagine a life other than one of hedonism and freedom until his phone rang, revealing it was 6:00 pm.

Shit, it was sunset. There was a notification. Not from Telegram. It was Grindr. It was from the couple looking for a 3rd account. Thank fucking God.

“Free rn?” The account, likely Joshua, the imposter Jacob, in charge, messaged.

The real Jacob felt himself come back as he replied with a “Yes”. Memories of Adam and their entire relationship together returned, back to the beginning of when they ate undercooked chocolate cheesecake pancakes and had food poisoning the rest of their first date night. He realized that by not being with Adam, he had an affinity that he truly cared and loved him. It followed the old saying of not knowing what really matters until it’s gone. He was so close to getting home and being back with his loving boyfriend.

The account responded with a simple Thumbs-up. It was all Jacob needed as he ran to the hotel, careful to dodge other pedestrians and the rampant tricycles that carried the other tourists and their luggage. The hotel door was unlocked and the room was dark as Jacob entered. He could see Joshua and Adam were sitting on their bed naked.

Jacob introduced himself as ‘Joshua’ to the both of them, taking notable excitement in Adam. Without much speaking, likely from Adam’s awareness of the language barrier, they fucked. Despite Jacob’s attempts of meshing in between them, he was always pushed aside by both of them, always topping but never in the middle. Despite not bottoming as Jacob usually did with his boyfriend, the sex between them was spectacular, as he filled them up with bucket loads of his semen. His kisses with him were the most passionate he ever did in his life. He thrusted with soul and love into him. By the time that Adam fell asleep, the part of the bed they were doing it was soaked in their liquids intermixed with each other.

“Alright,” Jacob panted, sweat covering his glorious body, speaking to his former face, “Let’s swap back, now. I feel it again, thank you.”

Joshua shook his head, “Nope, thank you for giving me your wonderful life and your even better boyfriend. I can’t believe you gave all of it up,” The same grin he had recalled the night before now appeared on his face and mouth. He felt as if a demon possessed his body and was mocking him, it probably was at this point.

“You’re giving me back my body, my life and my boyfriend,” Jacob shouted, looming over his former body.

Joshua looked unimpressed with his threats, yawning slightly, “You should have known better than to trust an Engkanto, let alone of the trickster type,” He simply lied down on the bed and pretended to sleep, cuddling with Adam, in a cruel way of mocking Jacob.

Jacob thought fast, remembering the jar of purple goo in his pocket. He reached out and opened it to find nothing. Scooped empty. Entirely clean like it was never there. Despite his failure, he grabbed his body by the arm, which was lightwork due to his younger and powerful strength, “Swap us, now,” He demanded with rage in his smaller pupils.

Jacob was met with the torment of his own laugh cackling at him, with a deep undertone that caused shivers, like his original body was being corrupted, "You think you were clever thinking you could use the purple jelly against me?”

“But I shook it around earlier and I heard it. I didn’t lose or misplace it in between now and then” Jacob's skin grew bumpy from the goosebumps. He felt like he was in a nightmare, his stomach turning on itself as his old face morphed.

“Don’t forget I’m a trickster.” His grin grew unnaturally big, like his mouth was too big on his own face. “I like the attempt though, you really want to swap back. But I did notice how much fun you had in my body. I think even more than I did with your own body and your awesome boyfriend!”

“I just want to be back in my own body and be back with Adam. Nothing more! I want my life back, Joshua!!" Jacob screamed, hoping it would wake Adam up, but he didn’t.

“Joshua? I think you hit your head or something cause that’s your name, not mine. I’m Jacob,” His body taunted before he started to mutter an ancient language. Some remnants of it sounded Tagalog but the others sounded ancient, it was not human in origin.

“W-what, no. Don’t lie to me, Joshua, Jac—“ Jacob stopped speaking as he felt his own self merging with Joshua’s body. He looked at his own Jacob's face. He felt increasingly dizzy, as Jacob helped sit him down, who explained that he had fucked a bit too hard for his own good. Despite how hard he tried to shun him out, Joshua-Jacob’s post-college years of working in the field of marketing in America mutated into times living between popular touristy areas in the Philippines, only able to afford them from his OnlyFans income and sugar daddy money. His own personality and thoughts replaced by that of Joshua, as the familiar shock of testosterone and libido electrified his body. It caused Joshua to get a hard on and passionately kiss Jacob.

Jacob offered no resistance, allowing Joshua to feel every spot on his body with his tongue. It didn’t take long for Jacob to get onto his position with his jiggling white ass up in the air. Joshua slid in with ease, relentlessly hitting his prostate and causing the both of them to finish within minutes. In the release of his semen, the remnants of Jacob’s consciousness and personality drained out of his body. The transformation was complete. Joshua finished, collapsing on the soft mattress on his back, his bulky chest rising up and down. Jacob was generous enough to hand him a water bottle from America.

“Thank you, Kuya Jacob,” Joshua said as he gulped down his water, spilling some onto his abs and then using a clean towel to dry it up, “You guys are leaving for America tomorrow morning?”

Jacob nodded, as his supernatural grin turned into a generous smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know the next time we vacation here.”

Joshua whispered as he put on his shorts and black jersey, “Congrats on your future engagement. You two would make amazing husbands. You’re always welcome here in the Philippines!” He smiled.

“You’re a good young guy. Get home safe,” said Jacob, waving goodbye as he cuddled with Adam.

Joshua left the hotel with hope for the next day, with many collaborations and hookups he was going to perform that day as part of his typical life. The notion of finding a guy and settling down was foreign and too weird to him. Why should he only stay with one guy when he had such an irresistible and young body? He was young and he needed to enjoy that and pleasure himself.

[oncasette]

frat!lads

sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, & caleb x fem!reader

the love and deepspace men as frat guys in a college!au at linkon U + how you met them

content: fr*ternity boys, alcohol consumption, all apart of the same frat (lambda delta sigma—LDS), smoking/vaping for some of the guys. thank you to @nashusglasses for yapping about the boys with me 😘

SYLUS QIN, majoring in business, minoring in international communications

frat!sylus doesn't leave his room during parties after you start dating, whether you're up there with him or not. He'll attend brotherhood events, but it's a hard sell to get him to go to swaps, date parties, or weekend functions unless you're the one asking him to go.

frat!sylus definitely smokes when he's drunk. He's not a regular smoker, and he wouldn't be one to vape or zyn either, but he'll keep a pack of cigs in his back pocket at a function.

frat!sylus becomes pledge master the year that luke and kieran go through recruitment, and definitely plays favorites. He'll let the twins go to your apartment to sleep during hell week, he's more lenient on them when there's group pledge tasks, and he ends up being their big brother when big/little takes place. They start up calling you mom before the week's up.

frat!sylus sleeps through most of his classes. Or, most of the day, really. It's a wonder he was passing with his abysmal attendance, but you couldn't say you weren't proud of him when you saw that he made the Dean's list every semester.

frat!sylus still teases you for ignoring him for a while after you two met.

You met Sylus at one of his frat's parties. You were a little too tipsy to foster intelligent thoughts and the music was far too loud to hold any genuine conversation. The most you could get out to your friends over the thumping bass was your desire to get another drink from the kitchen and to take a trip to the bathroom on your way there. The line was, unsurprisingly, far too long and bleeding out into the hallway, leaving you to grumble and slouch against the wall as you waited your turn.

Sylus practically came out of nowhere, leaning up against the wall beside you and offering to take the empty solo cup from your hand.

"You alright, there?" he asks. He's seen you around a couple of times. In passing, mostly, around campus or at his frat's events, but this was the first time he'd gotten the chance to speak to you.

"Yeah, just, waiting on the bathroom," you huff, and Sylus has to bite down on the laugh that's creeping up his throat. You were cute, dangerously so, even hazy eyed and little wobbly.

"I'd be happy to let you use mine if you want to skip the line," he says. The look you shoot his way has him raising his hands up in defense, waving away all notions of foul play with your crushed cup still in his grasp. "I'll stand outside my room and keep guard."

You nod, thinking better of it as you lean into his guiding hand and allow him to lead you upstairs.

You nearly forget about him until about a month later when LDS throws a darty that you attend, Sylus immediately spotting you in the crowd and managing to get the phone number he'd sorely missed the last time you'd spoken.

ZAYNE LI, majoring in biology, minoring in chemistry, pre-med track

frat!zayne is the reason LDS doesn't get put on academic probation most semesters. His GPA never falls from it's pristine 4.0, even with the fraternity's functions and all the time he spends with you. It's how he got stuck with the director of academics position.

frat!zayne refused to do the sock on the door policy because he felt like it was crude. He didn't have a roommate in the house like he had in the dorm, so he didn't know why anyone needed to know when he was having private moments with you. That was until one of the brothers busted the door through the lock at eleven o'clock because they wanted to borrow his britta filter. Then he started using the sock, despite how red his ears would flush the next day when he left for class and had to pass the other boys living on his hall.

frat!zayne brings you all the trinkets he can find from people tabling in the quad. You've gotten plenty of stickers, candy grams, roses, and cookies. You even got a rubber duck once.

frat!zayne won't attend a swap unless it's with your sorority. When he'd been a pledge, he'd been forced to attend every event and stick around until the lights came on at the bar, but now that he's with you, he'll only go to the events you're attending or can tag along with him to.

frat!zayne gets asked all the time by your sorority sisters when he's going to propose. After all, the first time he'd locked eyes with you had been at a tacky wedding themed swap.

Your friends had been nudging you all night to go and talk to him. Your eyes had barely left him, looking at the cute guy at the corner of the bar in the powder blue suit over your friends' shoulders.

"Go! Please! You're killing me with this eye tag thing," Tara squeals as she shoves you towards the guy. Your heels are planted into the sticky flooring, but she's doing a damned good job of inching you closer to him. Before she had the chance to topple you over completely, you relented.

"Fine, fine, I'm going! But I'm not promising anything," you huff. Your body warms under his gaze as you approach. He sees nervous as he glances around the bar, anxiously checking to see if there's anyone around him that you'd be coming up to, now, though he can no longer deny it when you stop right in front of him.

"Hi," he says, cheeks flushed and ears bitten pink and you just about fall out right there. How cute could he get?

RAFAYEL QI, majoring in fine arts, minoring in marine science

frat!rafayel is the heart of most of the parties LDS throws. He's usually on aux unless they've hired a DJ or a live band, and he takes his job seriously. He never misses a function, but he has an arm thrown over your shoulder more often than not.

frat!rafayel has a recipe for jungle juice that gets put out at darties. He won't tell anyone else how to make it and claims it's made with "lots of love".

frat!rafayel carries a miami mint vape around with him, but he rarely hits it. Unless he's drinking, then it doesn't leave his hand.

frat!rafayel uses "anything but a cup" night to get you to wear one of those beer hats people wear to baseball games so he can spend the rest of the night draped over your back—like he'd be anywhere else, anyway, this just gives him a viable excuse—and drinking out of your hat.

frat!rafayel begs you to take another art elective with him. He claims they're all boring without you, and that you give him the inspiration he needs when he's locked in the art department's concrete walls.

You met Rafayel in an intro art course your sophomore year. It was about halfway through the semester when you accidentally dumped your paint water down the front of his shirt on the way to the sink. Class had already ended, meaning Rafayel had taken off his apron and had nearly finished cleaning up when you stumbled over.

He didn't mind, really, despite the whines and complaints on his end. He was all easy smiles and comforting words was he realized how bad you felt for your little mishap, peeling off his outer layer like it wasn't a big deal and leaving your mouth to water over his newly exposed biceps.

"Look, would it make you feel better if I let you make it up to me?" he asks. He ties the damp shirt around the arm strap of his backpack as he asks.

You nod, sputting out a helpless little yes.

"Alright," he smirks, just a bit at the corner of his lips. "How about you let me take you out for lunch, then?"

"Wha- when?" you ask. You're more than taken aback at his request, having expected for him to make you buy him a new shirt or a new set of paints.

"Now, if that works for you," he says. Now works great for you.

XAVIER SHEN, majoring in astrophysics

frat!xavier doesn't really talk to anyone at any of the functions unless you're there. He'll still attend, but more often than not, he's secluded off in the corner scrolling on his phone or watching whatever the bar's put on the TV.

frat!xavier smuggled a second twin XL into his room to make a mega bed. No one knows where he found it or how he got it in without any help. It's the comfiest thing either of you have ever laid on, and it takes about seven alarms and twenty-five kisses to coax him out of it in the morning for class

frat!xavier always has you on his lap when you're at the house for a game. Whenever any of your school's sports teams plays an away game, the brothers will line up four or five couches in the party room and move the biggest TV—sylus'—in, and Xavier takes the opportunity to keep you locked in his grasp for the next couple of hours.

frat!xavier is a favorite for so many of the girls that go to LDS. They think he's just the sweetest guy ever, but he barely even talks to most of them. He'll nod politely for a couple minutes before wandering off. He gets ribbed pretty bad for it later.

frat!xavier uses you as his reminder to study. You always drag him to the library with you on Sundays, and despite his hangovers, he uses the time to get ahead on his class work for next week.

You met Xavier in the library your freshman year. He'd holed himself up in the corner of the fourth floor, promptly falling asleep face first on his textbook. When he'd gotten there, there had been plenty of tables open, but as the day had gone on, more and more people had filed in to find a quiet place to study for finals. When you got there, all of the tables and chairs were full other than a single one at his table.

You work up the courage to tap him on the shoulder after awkwardly going back and forth about it behind him for ten minutes.

"Excuse me?" you ask softly, ducking your head down so as to not disturb the other people near you. He doesn't respond. You tap him gently again. That seems to snag his attention.

"Hm?" His eyes struggle to open, and you feel something flutter in your chest as you watch him wipe the corner of his mouth and sit up.

"Do you mind if I sit with you? The rest of the floor is full," you say softly as you gesture to the free chair beside him. He shakes his head softly and kicks the chair out a bit for you to sit beside him.

Xavier doesn't end up leaving the library until you do. Three and a half hours later.

CALEB XI, majoring in aerospace studies

frat!caleb catches shit from some of his brothers for hanging onto his high school girlfriend. He doesn't care, he'd drop them in a second if it meant keeping you. He never lets any of them rib you, or make any comments that toe the line of mean more than funny. You're his priority, and his brothers know that.

frat!caleb is the president of LDS and is always either sending out massive group messages to the frat or is on the phone trying to handle something. It's like he's trying to manage 87 different tasks at once, on top of his school work, but he handles it well.

frat!caleb only drinks beer and will make a sword out of the empty cans to fight his brothers with if he's drunk enough. but the bar really isn't even that low, get like three in him and he's ready to joust.

frat!caleb has a sex playlist that he thinks is so good until you tell him how goofy you think it is while you're drunk. It takes three weeks of silent nights, forgetting just how quiet you have to be with the music off so his brothers won't hear you, before you're begging him to put it back on. With alterations, of course. There's nothing sexy about doses and mimosas.

frat!caleb only lives in house because he's on exec. If he had it his way, the two of you would already be living in a cute little townhouse off campus, but with the rules in place, you practically live in house, too.

When you both had announced your college decisions, everyone had accused you of following your boyfriend off to school. They'd done anything and everything to try and talk you out of it, but you'd stood your ground. If anything, Caleb had been the one to follow you off to school, and you weren't going to be the one to stop him.

Caleb had bitched and moaned the whole month leading up to move in because they wouldn't let the two of you dorm together, but seeing as you were living on the same hall in the only contemporary dorm on campus, it really wouldn't have made much a difference.

You were attached at the hip, for better or worse, all throughout grade school. He doesn't see why college should be any different.

[amoressb]

───── H.S.K.T. 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ doing a cute dance trend with your ‘too cool’ bf ｡｡ ʙꜰ!ʀɪᴋɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ.

FLUFF & wc. 1100 + ; kissing, skinship, petnames ｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

you and riki were just laying down in your bed watching videos. riki had his hands wrapped around your waist, head on your shoulders watching with you since you were both watching on your phone.

after scrolling for a little while, a couple or friends appeared doing the H.S.K.T. trend and you immediately turned to riki grinning like crazy. he looked at you, his smile faltering, “don’t look at me, i am not doing that.”

“aw cmon riki pleaseee” you sulk. “nooo” he buries his head on you back pulling you closer. you don’t see or feel it but theres a smile growing on his face. you separate his hands and get off the bed getting changed. “yesss and were doing it outside so bundle up. oh AND you’re wearing pink so we can match!” you smile at him. “im not doing that cutesy trend and ESPECIALLY not wearing pink.”

“i cannot believe im doing this” riki sighs looking up after you both finish getting the simple moves down. here he was outside, in pink, waiting for you to finish setting up your phone. “okay you ready?” you turn around to him smiling. he let’s out a breathy yes but with a slight smile as he couldn’t help it when you’re being so cute.

you click start and the countdown starts as you both get into position. riki still had his ‘annoyed’ expression in the beginning but it immediately faded away as you two continued to do the dance.

it started off with you pointing at him first , barely reaching the top of his head and then him doing it to you and ended it off with you jumping onto him giving him a bear hug smiling big, riki immediately wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and looking away while placing his head on yours smiling.

“let’s see how it came out!” you excitedly go to grab your phone and grab rikis hand to come and sit next to you.

looking over the video you notice rikis gaze stayed on you the whole time no matter what, as well as how almost immediately, he started smiling, but still trying to keep up that cool guy facade. you roll your eyes playfully and chuckle at him. you started getting flustered at all the attention he gave you.

from rikis point of view, although from the outside he sometimes looks disinterested, he really couldnt have loved these moments more. every time he looked at you, it felt like the world around you two faded away.

he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders, how your eyes sparkled when you laughed, or the subtle curve of your lips when you smiled. it wasn’t just your beauty, though—it was the way you made everything seem more alive, more vibrant.

his gaze often lingered, even when he didn’t mean to, as if he were trying to memorize every little detail, afraid that the moment would slip away too quickly. you were the kind of girl who could steal his attention effortlessly, and he didn’t mind at all—he was utterly captivated by your presence.

as you two sat side by side, eyes fixed on the video, the world outside felt distant and unimportant. his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you close as you leaned into him, your head resting gently against his shoulder. he could feel the warmth of your body, the soft rise and fall of your breath, and the faint scent of your hair, all of it grounding him in the moment.

every time you laughed or pointed something out on the screen, his grip tightened just a little, as if holding you a bit closer, cherishing the simple quiet moments you two shared. the video played on, but he wasnt paying much attention to it—he was lost in the feeling of having you there with him, in the ease of your shared space, where everything felt right.

you grinned playfully, raising an eyebrow as you nudged riki with your elbow. “you know,” you teased, “i think you secretly love doing all these cute little things with me.” riki shot you a look of mock disbelief, but you werent buying it.

“oh, come on, dont act like you didn’t enjoy matching in pink with me, or filming these couple trends, or—” you paused, looking at him mischievously, “—how you never complain when we go to that ridiculous little cafe for the third time this week.” he laughed, shaking his head, but you could see the corners of his lips twitching upwards, the slight blush creeping up his neck.

“admit it,” you pressed, your voice softening, he rolled his eyes, trying to act exasperated, but his soft chuckle gave him away. “im just being nice,” he muttered, though his warmth and the way he subtly leaned into you said everything. “yeah, sure,” you laughed, nudging him again.

“youre so ‘nice’—thats why you keep asking if i want to do something cute every weekend.” riki rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his expression that gave him away. “okay maybe i do enjoy it,” he muttered, his smile betraying him, “but only because it’s with you.”

“ahhh you love me so bad.” you tease him poking at his chest smiling. you were laughing, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you teased him once again. “you’re not as mysterious—” but before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, cutting you off with a soft, unexpected kiss.

the playful edge in your voice faltered as you felt his lips against yours, warm and tender, shutting down your teasing in the sweetest way possible.

for a moment, everything else faded as you both just breathed, your hands instinctively resting against his chest. when you two pulled away, he smiled, a quiet confidence in his eyes. “okay, enough teasing for now,” he whispered, his voice low and amused.

you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized that his kiss was the perfect answer to your playful jabs. “and of course i love you soooo bad princess, how couldn’t i,” he smiles, lips hovering over each other.

riki would do anything for you, no matter how silly or cheesy it might seem. if it made you smile, it was worth it. riki would dance with you in the middle of your living room just because you wanted to, and even let you drag him to yet another cute cafe for “just one more” dessert.

to him, it wasnt about the act itself—it was about the joy of seeing you happy. your laughter, your little excited expressions, your way of making the ordinary feel extraordinary—he would do it all again without a second thought, because to him, making you feel loved was the best thing he could ever do. even if it meant getting rid of his ‘cool look’ for your cute antics.

ooh he’s so whipped for you.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @liwinly @sugarikiz @hyukabean @ijustwannareadstuff20

[zeroses-world]

strays react to you being good with kids!

like 1, being good with kids is such a green flag for anyone, like seeing someone get all soft and caring for a little human that’s barely as tall as their legs

but 2, i may just be self indulgent as someone who’s constantly complimented for how good they are with kids

Stray Kids React to You Being Good with Kids

Bang Chan

Soft smile mode activated. He’s already super dad-coded, so seeing you being naturally good with kids just melts him. He'd stand back for a moment, arms crossed over his chest, watching you play with a toddler with the fondest look in his eyes. "You're really good at that," he’d murmur, almost like he's tucking away the thought for the future.

Lee Know

Silently impressed but trying to act cool about it. He’d probably raise an eyebrow, watching you handle a particularly chaotic child with ease. "Huh. So you're good with kids too?" He’d tease, but secretly, his heart would be doing backflips. The image of you being so patient and gentle with a tiny human? Yeah, he’s doomed. Might not say much, but later, you'd catch him sneaking glances at you with a tiny, almost shy smile.

Changbin

Flustered and in awe. He'd immediately start thinking about what it would be like to start a family one day (not that he'd admit it out loud). "You're, uh, really good with them," he’d say, scratching the back of his neck, trying to hide the fact that he's this close to falling even harder for you. He’d probably start playfully competing with you to entertain the kids, just to impress you.

Hyunjin

Heart eyes, heart eyes, heart eyes. He’d straight-up get all dreamy, watching you with a soft expression, as if he’s in a drama and this is the moment he realizes he’s completely in love. He’d probably take pictures of you interacting with the kids because you just look so adorable doing it. Might even say something ridiculously romantic like, “You look like you were made for this.”

Han

Teasing, but also melting inside. He’d pretend to act jealous. "Oh, so you like them more than me now?" But in reality, he’d be watching you with the most endeared expression. Seeing you laugh, be gentle, and entertain the kids so effortlessly? He'd get all giddy and might even join in just to see you smile. Later, he’d probably bring it up randomly like, “By the way, I think it’s really cute how good you are with kids.”

Felix

Absolutely in love with it. He’s already got a naturally nurturing personality, so seeing you interact with kids so sweetly would make his heart burst. He’d join in immediately, helping you with whatever game you’re playing with the kids, exchanging little smiles with you the whole time. Later, he’d hold your hand and say something like, “You’d make an amazing parent someday,” without hesitation.

Seungmin –

Smug but secretly loves it. He’d definitely tease you. “Ah, so you’re a professional babysitter now?” But deep down, he’d be so impressed. The fact that you can keep up with energetic kids without losing your patience? Huge green flag. He might not say much in the moment, but later, he’d casually drop, “You looked really natural with them. It was nice to see.”

I.N

Shy but super fond. He’d probably get all giggly watching you interact with the kids, feeling warm inside. Would definitely nudge you and be like, “They really like you, huh?” with a knowing smile. Seeing how effortlessly you connect with little kids would just add to his admiration for you, and later, he'd be all, “That was really cute. You’re really good with them.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dearly Beloved 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, allusions to abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After spurning one too many suitors, you wind up with the worst person you've ever met.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: inspired by the ask about a reader that wears skirts all the time but Lloyd discovers she wears shorts too and it challenged to get past them.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe the wand against your lashes one last time and shove it back into the tube. You sit up as you check the overall effect. Nothing too much. You like a dewy look, natural but glowing. You have to at least look like you care about today. 

The knock at the door is like clockwork. You’ve done this too many times. You expected your parents to give up by now. All the men did. 

You yawn and set the mascara back in your makeup case. “Come in,” you call dully. 

You watch your mother enter in the mirror. She’s in one of her stiff tweed jackets and a matching skirt. If she took a few inches off the skirt, it might be cute. 

“Waiting on you,” she tuts and crosses her arms. 

“Oh, are you?” You shut the case and stand. “I must’ve lost track of time.” 

You stand and smooth your dress. The little bow accoutrements long the shallow slit of the short skirt add a touch of sparkly to the navy blue. You’ve paired the dress with beige heels and thick gold hoop earrings. You look exactly to her standards and yet there’s disappointment in her eyes. 

“He will not like you being late,” she girds as she crosses the room and reaches for you. You stop her from touching your hair. She always has to fix what doesn’t need to be fixed. 

“Mother, it’s not on purpose. I only want to look my best. As you said,” you tilt your head coyly. 

“Don’t,” she frees herself from your grasp and points at you. “I need you to start taking this seriously. You are twenty-five.” 

“An old spinster,” you sigh dramatically, “how many is this now? Eighteen? You think this one will bite?” 

“If you would try, perhaps. Don't think you are so clever,” she bristles. 

“Mother, I’ve done everything you’ve asked me too. I’ve been on my best behaviour but you simply can’t force love,” you insist. 

“Dear, I do not know why you do this. Your father will blow an aneurysm if you keep this up,” she hisses. 

“Oh yes, the steam came out of his ears last time,” you chuckle. 

“It isn’t funny. This is our legacy. You are our legacy.” 

Your smile falls. Why you? It was her choice not to have any more heirs. If they are so important, she should have, right? Why must it be you? 

“Mother, can it not wait longer? A few years?” 

“This is not a seller’s market.” 

“And I’m not property. I’m a person. Your daughter.” 

“Mm, well, a few more years and there would be concern. For... fertility,” she sniffs. 

“Yes, I am cattle. Forgive my mistake.” 

“Please, I am not—if you tried to get along, you might find a good match,” she snips. 

“They are all snobs and terribly boring. I’ve tried.” 

“You are late. You are catty. And you roll your eyes,” she sneers. “How about a smile and a ‘yes, mother’.” 

You hold back your agitation. You get your stubbornness from her but that only seems to irk her. She didn’t raise you to be a pushover but that’s exactly what she’s telling you to be. 

“Yes, mother,” you smile and flutter your lashes, “I will try to increase my price so that you and father can go on your....” you count silently on your fingers, “twentieth honeymoon?” 

“You--” she begins and makes a fist. You lean away. She glares at you. “Rein it in.” 

She spins and stomps to the door. You exhale as your cheeks pinch painfully. At least she thought not to mess up your makeup. 

You follow her into the hallway. You’re silent. You know better than to keep on when she gets to this point. You tell that crying little girl to go back to her corner and once more paint on a smile. 

You follow her down the curling stairs and your heels echo through the foyer. She takes you to the sitting room and steps back to let your through first. You barely look at the man sat in the centre of the settee. 

“She’s here. Apologies for the wait, she was having a bad hair day,” she preens. There’s silence. “Well, then I should leave you to introduce yourselves.” 

She pulls the sliding wood doors from another era. You huff, “as if. My hair is perfect.” 

The man laughs. His sole scuffs as he stands. He says your name. 

“Mm, let’s not pretend here. We both know what this is.” 

“Straight to the point,” he remarks with a snort. “Should we exchange measurements and decide?” 

It takes you a moment to get his meaning. That’s disgusting. You face him with lip curled. “I think I can guess pretty easily,” you look him up and down. You arch a brow. “Oh, well...” 

His lips thin and he squints. The crinkles around his eyes deepen. You want to wipe off that silly mustache above his lip. 

“You’re a bit older than I expected.” You shrug. 

He puts a hand on his hip, “experience. Means I know what I’m doing.” 

You smile again, only to keep from laughing. You dig a heel into the floor and check your nails. “Sure, well, we should waste about half an hour and then we can send for my mother.” 

He clucks. You look at him, your elbow against your side as you keep your hand up. His brows knit then lift. “Lloyd Hansen.” He offers his hand, “billionaire, with a whole lot more coming to me.” 

“Right,” you look at his hand and turn away. You strut around him, “look, I’m really not looking to get married. I’m just doing what they tell me so I wouldn’t bother. Save your energy.” 

You flop onto the settee and hook one knee over the other. You rock your foot as you cross your arms. He slithers after you, stopping by the arm rest. 

“Oh, I got lots of energy,” he scoffs. “Well, half-an-hour, I can think of a few ways to pass the time. I’m not really the sort to wait until marriage.” 

You grimace at him, “no thank you.” 

“Well, aren’t you a treat? I heard about you but I thought all those guys were cucks,” he snorts. 

“Heard about me?” You repeat. 

“Sure, frigid bitch it what they’re saying,” he snickers and turns to sit beside you, “but they didn’t say anything about those legs.” 

He stretches his arm across the back of the couch above you. He tries to drop it onto your shoulders and you catch his wrist and shove him away. He chuckles again and tugs on your hair. You swat him. 

“Hey, no touching,” you snarl. 

“I like this,” he pinches the little ribbon button along the skirt, “it’s cute. Nice little peek of thigh.” 

Before you can stop him, he shoves his hand through slit of the skirt and squeezes our thigh. You yipe and you grab his other arm. He pushes up against your shorts. He frowns. 

“What?” He pinches the edge along your thigh. 

“Chafing,” you push him off of you. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m here to buy. I wanna know what I’m paying for,” he sneers. 

“Ew, ew,” you shove him again and stand, storming away as you shiver in repulsion. “Ew. Firstly, you’re too old. Second, your pervy little mustache is gross. Third, you’re nasty.” 

“You haven’t really given me a chance. One, I might have a few extra years under my belt but that means I know what I’m doing,” you face him as he holds up a thumb. “Two, this mustache is there for her pleasure. Yours, if you play your cards right. Three,” his other hand rests on his thigh as you glimpse the twitching in his cream coloured pants, “tell me how nasty to be and I’ll gladly fuck that rod out of your ass.” 

“Wow, you are repugnant,” you scoff. 

“I got some extra flavour,” he leans forward, his elbows on his legs as he clasps his hands together. “Those other guys, I know they came in here like simps in their bowties, tryna lube you up with those puppy dog eyes. Well, I’m here for business. I don’t have time to waste on games and you don’t seem to like playing. It’s perfect.” 

“It couldn’t be less awful,” you assure him. 

“Right, I’m sure you’re having the time of your life with Mommy Dearest there. Does she have wire hangers? Don’t answer that,��� he laughs and sits back, leaning his arm on the cushioned rest. “At least I’m honest. I’m not gonna sit here and lick your asshole. Not figuratively. I got shit to get done, namely, getting married, and you seem, well, to put it in your language ‘so over it’,” he puts on a trite voice. 

“I’m over you,” you insist. 

“I don’t mind a girl on top,” he winks. 

“Ugh, maybe you should meet a few divorcees. They might just be desperate enough.” 

“Tried that game. She cried after. Was really awkward.” 

You glare at him. He really is gross. You’re not a prude by any measure but this is supposed to be an introduction. He’s supposed to at least pretend to be gentleman. 

“I’m done with this conversation, so you can entertain yourself,” you dismiss with a flick of your fingers. 

He chortles as you turn your back to him. You clomp over to the window and distract yourself with the hedges and the sparrows rustling within. Your mother will be upset but he’s the last of the...however many men you’d choose. 

“No wonder you got them lined up, sweet cheeks, you fill out that dress real nice,” his soles scuff on the floor. “It’s cute but I’d suggest something with a bit less at the top. I’m sure you got a nice balance.” 

You ignore him and shake your head at the panes. You listen to his slow approach. You tense as you sense him right behind you. 

“You’re not the first I’ve met either, you know? The rest of them are so... flighty. The last one had a list of demands. A fucking bride price. Chanel everything. Boring,” he says. 

You wince as he touches your back. He drags his fingers up your dress and you snarl as you go rigid. He gets even closer and hums. 

“Let me pet the kitty and then you can decide. You really can’t make a clear decision if you don’t know how a man--” he snakes his hand around your neck and you dip your chin. You bite down on the webbing between his thumb and index. 

He yowls as you clamp down on him. You let him go and he staggers away. You face him and watch him with a smug smirk as he shakes his hand. He cradles it and hisses. 

“You little...” he snarls through his teeth as his eyes blaze at you. 

“I warned you already not to touch me,” you insist. “The next time, they’ll be blood.” 

He holds up his hand and examines the red bite mark. He scowls and lowers it. His glare meets yours hotly. He squares his shoulders and narrows his eyes. 

“Oh, baby girl, you don’t know what you’ve done,” he spits. 

He turns and strides to the door. You cackle as he tries to pull them inward first, then figures to slide them apart. You stay as you are as you hear his footsteps reverberate around the foyer. You turn to face the window again. 

He marches down the long stone walk toward the arched driveway. You’ve never chased one out before. To be honest, all the others were too shy to get that close. He waves at Carmen, the valet. You tisk between your teeth and shrug as you spin back. 

Your mom will probably let her fists fly now but it will be worth it, so long as you never have to see that man again. 

[i-like-loserz]

Sorry for asking but do you do twt links?

yes i do — and it's for sub!san 🤭

i call this one: failed cockwarming

cw: smut (18+), nsfw link, sub!san, praise kink, edging, overstimulation, m!squirting, cockwarming (obvi), piv + unprotected

note: there's nothing i love more than a whiny, desperate man, completely lost for the touch of his partner...(did not mean to make this 1k words lol) -- also WHAT A CUTIE

NSFW LINK AND DESCRIPTION UNDER THE CUT

there's been one thing you've wanted to try with your boyfriend for a while now: cockwarming.

you've been building him up to it, knowing how desperate he gets once he's inside of you. how do you expect him to be a good patient boy while you're sitting on his cock if you don't train him?

it started with a series of edging sessions. you make him sit on the couch or against the headboard of the bed and slowly stroke him, refusing to speed up or hold him firmer. your fingers glide over the blushing silk-like skin, drawing shutters and moans from his perfect lips. he begs you sweetly, eyes already shiny with desperation, but you refuse to give in. it's for his own good, you tell yourself.

every time he tries to buck his hips against your hold, you use your other hand to hold him down, scolding him lightly for being so greedy. after bringing him to the edge a few times, he's shaking under you, cock hard and throbbing for relief. his eyes are red and wet from frustrated tears, his lips are shiny and plump from all the lip bitting, and there's a cute blush that's spread over his pretty face.

when you finally let him cum, his eyes roll to the back of his head and his flushed chest heaves beautifully from the intensity of his climax. he cums so much.

it spills over your fingers and trails down your wrist, making a mess of his lap. he whimpers desperately as you continue to stroke him. he tries to back away from the overwhelming painful pleasure of being overstimulated, but you keep pinned in his spot, interested to see how much he can handle.

he ends up having his first squirting experience, completely soaking everything around him -- including you.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean to--" he's embarrassed, pouting with a blush as he stares at the soaked sheets under him. you drag your thumb over his thigh comfortingly and can't help but admire the way he shudders just from the faint touch.

"you did so good for me, sannie. you looked so pretty squirting for me like that~" the praise immediately calms him down, happy to please you and that you're not mad about the mess (but then again, you never are).

you thought this practiced restraint would help san acclimate to cockwarming. it's not like you're moving against him or anything. it's all about enjoy each other's company and the feeling of being connected. apparently there's a very big difference between your fist and your pussy.

it started off promising. you approached san with your idea:

"sannie..." you're playing with his hair delicately as he rests his head on your lap. it's a routine bonding moment that san regularly begs for. it makes him feel doted on and secure, and it usually leads to him falling asleep at the end.

he opens his eyes gently, already bleary with an adorable sleepy expression.

"mhm?"

"i was thinking..." you hum, massaging his scalp as you speak, "there's this thing that apparently brings couples closer together. it's supposed to be very comforting and intimate."

you swear, if he were a cat his ears would've been perked up at the mere mention of 'being closer' -- as if you could be any closer to each other. you practically spend every minute together.

he turns his head so he's looking at you more directly, "what is it?"

---

it's only been a few minutes and he's already whining under you. you feel so full and warm, perfectly draped over his body as he stuffs you to the brim. if it weren't for his desperate whines and the way he's throbbing inside of you, you swear you could fall asleep like this.

you've been trying to placate him with small kisses along his face and neck -- but it's only making it worse.

"it's okay, sannie, just relax." you coo, "don't think about it, i'm right here, baby..."

he whimpers softly, "i-i can't, it's -- mmph..."

he holds onto your waist firmly, trying to hold back. you can't help the way your body reacts when he squeezes you tightly with his large hands, the pressure feels amazing. you unconsciously clench around him, causing him to buck his hips against yours unsteadily with a choked out moan.

"f-fuck...sorry, baby, i didn't mean to do that~" you whisper against the heated skin of his neck. you press lazy kisses against him, already half-delirious from that scant bit of movement. "just stay here with me..."

your hands move to ghost over his chest, one of your favorite parts of his body. he's surprisingly sensitive there, gasping whenever you flick over his nipples or grope his pecs. you know you shouldn't, but you can't help the way your fingers circle around his pretty blush buds. he shivers from the contact and shallowly thrusts into you again.

"s-stop, it's too much." he lets go of your waist to grab your wrists, forcing your hands away from his chest. with misty eyes, he looks up at you, "i'm trying to be good, but i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that."

he looks fucking edible like this.

fuck it.

you take advantage of the weak hold around your wrists and push both of your arms to the top of the mattress. he looks lost as you pin him to the bed, weary eyes anticipating your next move.

"i was trying to do something new with you, but you just can't help it can you?" you tease, "so sensitive that you'll do anything to cum, hm?"

it's almost like he can't hear you, reeling from the teasing words that drip from your enticing lips.

you squeeze him within you again. that gets his attention.

"anything" he pants eagerly.

"fuck me, baby."

[lvlybin]

hello! could i request a zb1 reaction to watching a horror movie with reader? tysm!!

cw mentions of death, gore, demons, killers... the normal horror movie stuff

✉️ honestly, each of the boys are scaredy-cats and that episode of camp zerobaseone with the haunted house is further proof

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓙iwoong ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     When you and Jiwoong have movie nights, you’re usually the one picking the movie. You’re his first priority, so whatever you want to watch, he’ll gladly watch as well. Considering how much you love him, it only makes sense that you do the same for him. That’s what you have to keep telling yourself as the horror movie he picked out plays on the large TV screen in your living room. That’s not to say you hate horror movies, but the one you were watching was definitely going to make it a bit difficult to fall asleep that night. You were a big girl, though. If Jiwoong wanted to watch a horror movie, you’d watch one with him. 

     Another jumpscare of whatever slasher is chasing the main characters occurs on the screen, making you yelp and jump a little, sending you further into Jiwoong’s arms. Thankfully, he’d been holding you since the beginning of the movie. As he laughs at your reaction, you groan. 

     “You did this to torture me,” you grumble, resting your head on his shoulder as you turn your eyes back to the movie.

     Your words pull another laugh from the dark-haired man you’re cuddled with: "I can only watch so many rom-coms, darling.” You don’t bother responding to that because, yes, you did pick rom-coms a lot, but Jiwoong never complained about them. Your eyes stay glued on the screen as this chase scene continues, only for another jumpscare to pop up. It almost frustrates you that you react to it again.

     “Jumpscares shouldn’t be allowed to be back-to-back like that…” you mumble, curling up closer to your boyfriend. 

     “Maybe we should watch more horror movies then,” Jiwoong suggests, and when you tilt your head up to look at him, his dark brown eyes are already on you. “More excuses to have you in my arms.” 

     “You know all you have to do is ask–”

      Jiwoong’s fingers gently brush against your chin, making you turn your head back to the screen. “Pay attention,” he says before pressing a soft kiss to your temple, “I’ll protect you.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗ao ﹙𝔃.﹚ㅤ

     You lay back on the couch, your head in Hao’s lap as he scrolls through movie options. Tonight was supposed to be a date night for the both of you, a cute little festival that was taking place in Seoul, but unfortunately, the weather had other plans. Outside your apartment, rain poured down heavily, soft rumbles of thunder sounding out against the night sky every now and then.

     “You know what fits this weather?” you ask Hao, folding your hands on your stomach as you watch the remote flick through film options. Your boyfriend hums softly in acknowledgement, telling you that he’s listening. “A horror movie.”

     “A horror movie?”

     It was a bit out of character for you, but you were in the mood to get scared. “Yeah, why not?” The search bar on the TV is highlighted as Hao begins to search for that specific genre. 

     “Any specific one?”

     You shake your head against his lap. “You pick.”

     Hao sighs softly above you, his free hand moving to play with your hair while he reads through the descriptions of the films. Finally, after much deliberation, he settles on a horror movie to watch. Only to talk the whole time. Not that you minded; you thought it was adorable how your boyfriend just had to share every thought and opinion he had while you both spent some quality time together. Not to mention, every little thing that Hao said was extremely entertaining. But to say the least, it made the movie much less scary.

     “That doesn’t even look like real blood,” Hao says, his voice slightly muffled against your shirt. You’d both settled down after selecting which movie to watch, and your boyfriend had fallen into your side, resting his head against your chest while he kept the blanket pulled up around you both.

      “I would hope it’s not real blood.”

“Well, obviously, but it takes away from really immersing the viewers in the story…” he trails off, and you can hear the pout in his voice. He’s silent for a moment, enjoying the way your hands play with the fluffy strands of his hair, until one of the characters meets their end. Instead of jumping or getting scared like he’s supposed to though, Hao furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “Please, this doesn’t even make any sense…”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗anbin ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     “Ahh, I can’t look!” Hanbin’s hand flies over his eyes again, and you scramble to pull it away. Your boyfriend’s reactions were always the best to see, he was the most animated person you knew, so you’d had the brilliant idea to watch a horror movie with him. You just didn’t anticipate how scared he would get. When you manage to pry his hand away from his eyes, he’s quick to cover them again with his other hand.

     “Hanbin!” you cry out, the movie forgotten as you giggle at your boyfriend. “Bin… If you don’t want to watch this, we don’t have to.” 

     At your words, he’s quick to uncover his eyes, looking at you with his warm, brown irises. “No, no, I want to watch.”

     “I don’t want you to be so scared to the point where you’re not watching,” you say, still smiling a little at how cute this man can be. Hanbin’s quick to shake his head, instead leaning into your side. The sheets of your bed are pulled up tightly around you both, making you feel cozy despite the scary movie that’s playing on the TV in your bedroom. 

     Hanbin, even though he has amazingly obvious reactions, is good at hiding things. When his lips lift in the corners a little, you know that he’s been faking being overly scared. “I won’t be scared if you hold me…” You fight the urge to laugh.

     “You’re something else, Sung Hanbin.” But still, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, the comforting weight of his body settling over yours. You both are quiet for a moment, focused on the movie as the music sets the mood of suspense. “You’d tell me if you were actually scared, though, right?”

     “Who says I’m not scared?” 

     “Hanbinnn–” He cuts you off with a fake little scream as a jumpscare occurs on the screen. He turns to look at you, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted just a bit. He’s still pretending to be scared.

     “See? I’m terrified,” he says, an adorable pout on his lips as he tilts his head back to the movie. “Which means you need to hold me.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓜atthew ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     In your hand, you have two tickets to the most recent horror movie that has been released. The other one of your arms is linked with Matthew’s as the two of you walk through the hallways of the movie theater, trying to find the theater for your designated showing time. “You excited?” Matthew asked, cradling the bucket of popcorn you’d be sharing in his free arm. 

     He’d been talking about going to see this movie since it’d come out, and it only made sense for you to go with him. He was definitely more excited to see the horror movie than you were, though. “As long as there’s no gore, I think I’ll be fine.”

     “It’s not supposed to be too gore-y, more of a psychological thriller.”

     Matthew reaches for the door of the theater, letting you inside the dark room first before following you inside. You quickly find your seats, lifting the arm between the chairs so you can cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “If you’re excited, I’m excited,” you say softly into the mostly empty room. The two of you had decided to go later at night so there would be fewer people in the theater. 

     The movie eventually starts as you and Matthew share the popcorn, and you surprisingly find yourself getting into the movie more and more as it continues. Sure, some moments freak you out a little and cause you to lean into Matthew’s side, but overall, you find yourself enjoying the film. When you glance over at Matthew, he seems to be enjoying it too. There isn’t a hint of fear on his face, though.

     As expected, when the two of you leave the theater, he’s quick to gush about how good the movie was. You listen as your boyfriend praises each of the plot lines and the acting, even talking a little bit about the cinematography.

     “Since when are you such a movie buff?” you ask him as the cool night air hits your face.

     Matthew shrugs as one of his arms wraps around your shoulders, “I can appreciate art when I see it.” When you look at him, he’s suggestively looking back at you, making you laugh. “My only critique, though, was that it could’ve been scarier–”

     “It was plenty scary, Matt.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓣aerae ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     The two of you are curled up around each other as you sit on your couch. All of the lights in your living room are off as the horror movie plays on the screen. Your best friend had recommended that you watch this movie, but so far, you hated it. And it seemed like your boyfriend would agree with you. 

      Another yelp leaves you both as the slasher catches up to one of the characters. Taerae’s hands grip your shirt tightly as you tuck your face into his neck. After the initial fear wears off, the two of you laugh. “I’m glad you’re as scared of these movies as I am,” Taerae sighs as you slowly look at the screen again. Thankfully, you’d missed whatever death scene had just played. 

     “We’re both wimps,” you joke as Taerae sucks in a breath between his teeth when one of the characters trips and falls. 

     “At least we’re trying.”

     You both chuckle softly at Taerae’s words, “Is it trying if we look away during every scary part?” 

     “Definitely,” Taerae mumbles as he squeezes your sides. “Just never make me watch one of these again.”

     Both of you continue watching, almost unable to look away again as the chase scene plays out. “Do you think you would survive this?” you ask your boyfriend in an attempt to distract the both of you from the building suspense and continuous jumpscares. Taerae shakes his head, slightly ruffling your hair since his cheek is pressed against your head.

     “No. I’m not agile enough to run for this long through a forest.” He pauses as there’s a slight pause in the build-up of the movie, subconsciously pressing himself closer to your side. “I don’t understand how they haven’t been caught yet.”

     “Plot armor,” you reply, pulling the blanket further up around the two of you like a shield from the fictional killer. Both of you watch, on edge, as the characters scramble to get to safety only as the slasher appears out of nowhere again. Taerae’s cry of surprise blends with the screams from the characters as he falls for another jumpscare. You hear him huff before he shifts a little, grabs the remote, and abruptly turns the movie off.

     “We can finish it when it’s not nighttime.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓡icky ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     It almost annoys you how unaffected Ricky is by the horror movie you’re watching. Usually, you don’t have a problem with the genre, but something about this movie was really freaking you out. But your boyfriend is unaffected as ever. Like he’s watching a lighthearted comedy instead of a horror movie focusing on a demon. 

     Ricky simply sits on the couch with you, an arm over your shoulders as he keeps you snug against his side. He doesn’t react to any of the jumpscares, doesn’t cover his eyes when the horrifying monster appears on screen or when there are moments of gore. At least he doesn’t make fun of you for falling for those scary moments. 

     It’s late at night when the credits roll, and you’re wondering how you’re going to sleep.

     “Time for bed?” Ricky asks as he turns the TV off. You sit there for a moment; the living room is mostly dark now without the light of the TV. Your boyfriend tilts his head towards you after you’re quiet for a few beats of his heart. “You okay?”

     “Did that movie not scare you?”

     Ricky shrugs as he turns to face you even more, pulling you into his arms, your head resting against his chest, “It’s not real, YN, I remind myself of that.”

     You huff, inhaling the smell of his cologne and the laundry detergent the two of you use. It’s comforting. “It’s still scary.” You feel him smile against your hair before he presses a soft peck to the top of your head.

     “Scary?” Ricky’s voice has a teasing tone. “Are you scared?”

     You grumble against the fabric of his shirt, causing Ricky to let out a small chuckle. He kisses your head again. “I don’t think you’d protect me against a monster like that,” you mumble.

      Ricky lets out a mock-offended gasp, “You have that little faith in me?”

      You bite back a laugh. “You’d save yourself first–”

      “With that much doubt in your loving, caring boyfriend, maybe you deserve it.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖yuvin ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     Gyuvin usually had large reactions to things. Mostly with his words, but with his body as well. You’d known that even before you’d started dating him, and you’d thought it was charming. But in moments like these, it made it difficult for you to focus. Another jumpscare pops up on your TV screen, and in response, Gyuvin is throwing himself over your lap. Maybe it’s an attempt to look away from the scene, but it seemed like more of an excuse for him to lay on you.

     “Gyu,” you manage to get out, his arms squeezing your middle tightly, “Gyu, I can’t see.” And you really can’t, not with his shoulder blocking the TV from how he’s curled himself over your body. Sometimes, he reminds you of a puppy who doesn’t realize how big it is. Reluctantly, Gyuvin pulls away from you, settling back into the bed next to you.

     He sighs. It’s rare for him to be able to sit through an entire movie, but you had already begun watching this horror movie before Gyuvin came into your bedroom. So really, you weren’t watching it together; he’d simply joined you about halfway through. And now, he was trying to get your attention.

     “Wait, who’s this guy again?” Gyuvin asks as one of the main characters appears on the screen. Currently, the main characters were beginning some kind of investigation in their house that was quite obviously haunted. 

      You sigh. “Do you want me to start the movie over?”

      Gyuvin grins, but he shakes his head. “You’re already so far along. I’ll just look up the plot so I can catch up…” 

      So, you continue watching the movie while your boyfriend pulls out his phone to search up the Wikipedia page of the movie. After a moment, you hear him gasp. “What?” you ask, slightly worried at his sudden reaction. And before you can stop him, the ending of the movie is spilling out of his mouth.

      “Gyuvinnn,” you groan, going to pause the movie. There was no point in finishing it now, not when your boyfriend just spoiled the ending.

      “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t look that sorry. Not with the way he’s smiling. Gyuvin didn’t mind watching horror movies, but he would much rather have all of your attention on him.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖unwook ﹙𝓹.﹚

     Your eyes drooped from exhaustion as you cuddled with Gunwook. It was normal for you to feel sleepy after only a few moments of lying with your boyfriend, his warm body and strong arms making you feel safe enough to begin to feel drowsy. Tonight, though, it’d been barely thirty minutes since Gunwook had arrived, and you falling asleep wasn’t going to do. 

     “YNie,” Gunwook says gently, rubbing your arm a little to try and get you to wake up. “Let’s watch a movie, hmm?”

     When he’d said that, you expected him to put on something funny or one of the shows you’d begun watching together. But no, Gunwook decided to put on one of the scariest movies he could find. Suddenly, you weren’t feeling sleepy at all. You hadn’t moved from your spot against his side, but now, you were scared to close your eyes in fear of the monster that was terrorizing the characters appearing behind your eyelids.

     Gunwook didn’t seem bothered, though. He was definitely enjoying the movie, judging by the way his eyes were glued to the screen. It was hard to scare Gunwook with a film because he would never picture himself in place of the characters. Therefore, he found them more entertaining than scary. You bury your face into his neck. You would try to fall back asleep again if it weren’t for the movie playing in the background with the music that only added to the horror element. 

     The sound of one of the characters screaming has you looking back at the TV that Gunwook is so entertained by. It was almost envy-worthy how by the time the movie’s over, your boyfriend is still perfectly fine as if he hadn’t watched the same terrifying movie as you. You press your face into his neck again.

     “Wook,” you mumble against his skin, “Why’d we watch something so scary?”

     “Needed to wake you up somehow,” he chuckles.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓨ujin ﹙𝓱. ﹚ㅤ

     Yujin hated scary movies. After watching one, it would be the only thing on his mind for the rest of the week, especially if he was in the dark. However, after talking with his Gyuvin-hyung, Yujin was convinced that a horror movie would be the best way to get you to cuddle with him for the first time. But he was seriously starting to regret going to his hyung for advice.

     The horror movie plays on screen while Yujin and you share a blanket, only your knees brushing. Honestly, Yujin’s afraid to look away from the screen in fear of the demon terrorizing the characters somehow getting out of the TV while he’s not looking. That, and you still don’t seem scared. He could put himself through this torture for you, though. Or at least, in hopes of getting some cuddles from you. 

     But it doesn’t seem like you’re going to get scared any time soon. Unlike him, you seem like you’re genuinely enjoying the movie. Even if you do have a few jumps every now and then, they aren’t into Yujin’s arms. This wasn’t anything like Gyuvin said it would be. You can do this, Yujin has to remind himself not to turn off the movie. And when you glance over at him, Yujin still can’t pull his eyes away from the screen. It’s like he can feel the concern grow in your eyes.

     “Yujin? Are you okay?”

     He makes a small sound that’s almost a whimper as another jumpscare happens on the screen. “Y-yeah, I’m great,” he manages to get out. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your brows furrow. 

     “Are you sure? You look… terrified.”

     His heart drops, and a little bit of panic goes through him. What would you think of him if you knew he was scared because of a horror movie? Yujin swallows harshly as he gathers the courage to finally meet your eyes. “Can I be honest?” You nod your head in encouragement. “I only put on a horror movie so you would… um, cuddle with me.” 

     The last part is rushed and quiet, so you lean a little closer. “Huh?”

     Yujin’s face warms, “I only put on a horror movie so maybe you would get scared and have me comfort you and we would, you know, cuddle.”

      Your heart softens at his words as the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. “Well,” you say as you lean into your side, “Maybe I can comfort you with some cuddles since you’re the one who’s scared.”

[saltwaterburns]

Hi:)!! I love your writing, but just wondering if ya'd do some dick Grayson smut, like with the sex pollen stuff just making him all needy,

Fem reader? Even nb reader o_O?

Like ur real good at writing man^_^.

And I mean if you'd add some of your own kinks? I'd love to see him acting like an lil whiner it's cute in a way, feels so odd to ask lmfao please laugh LMFAO 💔..

pretty bird

Summary: Dick gets hit by a new Poison Ivy pollen, and there's only one way, or rather one person, to get it out of his system.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ SMUT - sex pollen but explicit consent is given, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, praise/degradation, sub!dick, biting (lmk if i missed any)

Author's note: The fact that this took me over 3 months to finish is embarrassing and I'm sorry and please don't hate me and fuck how I love bottom Dick. I also fear that you can kind of see my kind of worryingly high ao3 screen time in between the lines, because I am not ashamed to admit it that omegaverse is one of man's best creations. Enjoy !!!!! No beta we die like Jason (Todd and/or Grace)

Word count: 2,4k

You wake up with a jolt. Somewhere, a door slams shut, but the noise comes from someplace a lot closer than you'd like when living in Blüdhaven. A string of soft curses float through your apartment, something falls and breaks, and by then you’re sat up atop your mattress, reaching for the knife Dick always insists you keep nearby. It could be him, it probably is, but since when does your acrobat make this much noise when coming back home in the middle of the night?

Dick stumbles through the doorway, one of his hands resting on the wall, seemingly to keep him upright. The lights of the city that bleed in through your bedroom window illuminate his face, and you know instantly that he’s been hit with something, whether that's a gas or some pollen, you’re not sure. His skin is glowing under a sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed pink. He growls in frustration when a strand of inky black hair falls on his face and he pushes it away with a bit more force than necessary, chest heaving up and down with short and shallow breaths. 

You push the blanket off your legs, ready to stand up and walk over to inspect him for any injuries, possibly force him to take a bath with you when a throaty whine makes you stop in your tracks. He shakes his head and you look at him with furrowed brows, tilting your head in confusion.

“Ivy hit us with a.. ah, a pollen. Bruce sent me home right after, but that was before…before the effects showed up.” He rests his head against the doorframe, eyes squeezed shut. He swipes his tongue over his lips, the pink muscle heavy in his mouth which went dry the second he spotted you on that bed, waiting for him.

“What effects, exactly?” You ask him, the little crease of displeasure between your brows that Dick has a habit of soothing over with his thumb making an appearance. You cross your arms on your chest, both to show off your worry and to protect your body from the chill of the bedroom. “Are you in pain?”

As if on cue, another wave of something hits him and he lets his head fall back, his Adam's apple bobbing before he lets out another one of his drawn out whines. The sight of him like that makes something turn inside your gut, a dull ache in between your legs making itself known. “In pain, yes. Just not in the way you might, fuck!..think.” He claws at his Nightwing suit, seemingly desperate to get it off his heated skin and that's when it clicks. Ivy, pollen, not letting you come near him, sweaty and flushed as if…

Dick Grayson is currently standing in the doorway to your room, desperate to get his dick inside you and fuck his brains out. 

The sheer absurdity of the situation almost has you barking out a laugh, but it dies down in your throat when a soft plea leaves his lips, now slick with spit, reddish pink from his teeth abusing the soft flesh.

"There isn't an antidote for this. Not yet, anyway. 'N I was wondering if you'd maybe, shit, help me uh, get it out of my system? If you'd want, of course. 'S all good if not, sweetheart. Not really sure it'd be safe for you if I can't really, ngh, control myself."

His eyes stay locked on you, the usually light hues of blue tinted dark as the flush on his skin deepens, the worst of the pollen only starting to take effect. You don't say anything, but instead take a few quick steps towards him and before he has a chance to open his mouth to protest, you cup his cheek with your hand, other one laying flat on his chest. His heart is practically vibrating inside his ribcage from the sheer speed of it beating but that quickly leaves your mind at the absolutely obscene sound that leaves Dicks mouth at the feeling of your skin against his. It's a sob of pure relief mixed with agony because somehow even more blood pools at his groin, making him harder than he has ever been in his life. He turns his head and nuzzles his face into the palm of your hand, his heated lips nipping at your skin like flames of fire.

You coo at him, moving your hand up so you can run your fingers through his hair, now curly from the moisture of his skin. You grab a handful and gently pull his head back, letting your lips leave a trail of open mouthed kisses all over his jaw. His mouth has fallen open, spewing out soft pants and incoherent sounds.

"Wait, wait, baby," he hiccups softly, pulling away from you. "Don't know if m'gonna be able to control myself. Promise me that you'll tell me to stop if it gets too much 'n if I don't listen you'll punch me in the face?"

"Promise, Dickie." You nod, letting your other hand fall down to rest on his waist. You can feel the muscles of his core flex at your touch, and you gently drag the tips of your fingers through the divots of them. His eyes never leave yours and he's looking at you so earnestly, so devotedly it makes you feel sick for a moment. It's as if you are a god, a divine creature who has seized his ability to think, to breathe, and who he needs to guide him, tell him how to do the simplest things in case he even dares to think about doing them in a way you dislike.

You pull him down into a kiss, one slow, sweet and earnest. He has your face cradled in his hands, not daring to let them wonder in case it gets him punished later on. You gently guide him backwards with you, pulling him along by his hip, until the back of your legs meet the edge of the bed, and you fall back on it, pulling him with you. It's as if a switch has been flicked - the once languid and adoring kiss now turned messy, needy, desperate. His mouth is hot as it parts against your lips, tongues brushing against each other in an erotic dance. He tastes sweet, he always has, like honey and mint from the gum he seems to chew at any given moment.

He pulls away to catch his breath but somehow his hands have wandered under your shirt and are now tugging it over your head, throwing it over his shoulder. Your chest is bare in front of him, skin glinting under the light of the night, and he mewls, desperate. He brings his mouth down on your collarbone, leaving open mouthed kisses down until he reaches your breast, and before you can react, his sharp teeth have pressed down into the supple flesh. It hurts, and you keen off the bed with a soft cry.

He slides his tongue over the bite in a soothing manner, pressing a kiss on it as well. Despite the initial pain, by the fifth bite (which has your breasts positively red), your back is arching off the mattress for a different reason, and you're sure that if he'd try to slide your panties off, they'd stick to your cunt in the most obscene way possible.

Your insides are aching by now, desperate to be filled to the brim by his cock. You let him know by tugging on the top half of his Nightwing suit, pulling it over his shoulders. His hair is sticking up in every direction after that and you can't help but giggle, his lips silencing you with a playful kiss. He gets the lower half off by himself and is left just in his boxers, the visible tent in them making you unconsciously part your legs further.

Dick, however, decides that he needs something and he needs it now because another wave of pollen is tugging on his insides and the pain of it makes his stomach cramp up. He starts to slowly rut against your thigh, riding it like he has many times before as a punishment for being bratty. Each movement of his hips has him panting out soft ah! ah! ah! 's and his face is pressed against the crook of your neck, where he's desperately mouthing at the skin, drool soaking it up. You coo at him, masking the degrading terms of endearment under the guise of your sweet tone, but it's still just egging him on, and before he can realise that he's close, he's already come inside his boxers with a high pitched whine. His whole body shakes as the orgasm crashes over him in waves, and his arms give up, making him fall on top of you. You slide your arms over his bare back, pressing small kisses around his hairline.

"You did good, baby. So good for me, aren't you? Gonna fuck me now, pretty bird? Get your cock inside me, fuck yourself stupid 'til all the pollen is gone?"

He keens again, baring his neck to you in an act of submission. His head is fuzzy and he can't really understand what you're saying, but he heard "pretty bird" and "fuck" and suddenly his cock is all hard and leaky again, desperate to be surrounded by something warm and wet and tight. The pollen is making his skin itch unbearably and he needs you to bite him just like he bit you, marking you with pretty shapes and colours. You lean down and do just that, digging your canines right above his pulse point, sucking on the flesh until its angry and purple and so, so pretty, just like the man in front of you.

His body goes seemingly more lax at that, though his hips are still squirming. Somehow, you manage to tug your panties down and off your legs and you slide your fingers into his curls, harshly tugging on them to bring him back to the real world.

"Fuck me, Dickie." You purr, bringing him into a kiss. He can't seem to catch up with your pace, but his instincts speak for themselves, and although the kiss is way sloppier than it should be, all the happy noises he's making makes it worth it.

He cages you between his arms and you help him guide his tip to your opening, clenching around nothing but air. You hadn't noticed when exactly he'd gotten rid of his now soiled boxers but there's nothing exactly to complain about. Your arousal mixed with the cum thats covering the length of him make it easy for him to slide fully inside you with a single thrust, the feeling of so suddenly being filled to the brim punching all the air out of your lungs.

He starts fucking into you like a madman, incoherent whines and pleas and moans spilling from his swollen lips like wildfire. You can't understand anything, but you hold him close, pressing kisses on top of any strip of skin you can reach. "Good, birdie, just like- fuck! that. Fucking me so good, you're the best boy."

You wrap your legs around his, digging your heels into his thick thighs, letting your head fall back in bliss. You can feel a few droplets fall onto your skin and then trail down, and you can't help but giggle e. "Is my pussy so good that it's making you cry, baby? You're so pathetic, Dickie, it's embarrassing. Just look at you."

Your voice is sickly sweet in his ear and he just cries harder, cheeks burning red from embarrassment, but it's as if his body has a mind of its own, continuing to fuck into you like a dog, a dog in heat. He doesn't want to feel stupid and incompetent, and he hates the fact that you're laughing at him, making him feel like he isn't doing a job good enough, but despite your cruel jokes, you're choking on moans of your own, and he also knows by the wet sounds of your cunt that he's fucking you better than anyone ever has and anyone ever will.

He brings one of his hands between your two slick bodies and starts to rub aggressive and tight circles on your clit, eyes locked on you as your face scrunches up, mouth falling apart at the mind numbing pleasure. He knows you better than anyone, so when your muscles start to tense and the pitch of your moans is getting higher and higher, he knows you're close. He picks up the pace of his hips, the sound of skin slapping echoing all around the bedroom. One, two, three snaps and you're coming on his cock with a loud cry, body convulsing painfully. He follows you not even a moment later, coming in the tight heat of your stomach with a loud whine, his whole body shuddering. Despite your vision swimming, you let your hands wander all over his skin, pulling his shaky body to your chest, where you shower him with kisses, touches and soft praises.

"Good, good boy, birdie. You did good, fucked me so good. How are you feeling?"

He just, whines softly on your chest, looking up at you with glassy eyes, blinking owlishly. You pepper his face with tiny kisses until he comes back, and when you feel his nose scrunch up under your lips, you know he's with you once more.

"Talk to me, baby. Are you good? Do we need to go again?" You run your fingers through his hair, letting your nails scratch over his scalp. He leans into your touch and you're pretty sure that if he could, he'd be purring.

"M'okay, I think. At least for now. I feel good, but I can tell that it's not completely gone from my system. Might need to do another round later." His voice is scratchy, and you reach for the water bottle on your bedside table, making him drink half of it. He thanks you with a soft kiss and settles back down on your chest, arms curled around your body.

You can't help but smile at him, heart overflowing with affection. "We should take a shower, pretty bird. You're sticky and I'm sticky, and we could do another round there. That sound good?"

He perks up at the mention of showering together and you laugh, pulling him up with you.

"Come on, then. If you're good then I'll use my mouth on you."

[n0tamused]

Hello! Congrats on 1.5k! That’s so awesome! 👏

Would it be okay to request romantic Action prompt 11 “Person A and B are sparring when one of them pins the other to the floor/wall” for Mydei? Would be cute if Reader pinned Mydei and surprised him lol 😈

I’m in shambles after 3.1–

I also request you have a lovely week heheh ❤️

︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹Mydei x Reader

A/n: EYY ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING FOR MYDEI ILY, I WAS WAITING FOR A MYDEI REQUEEST UGDTZJUKJHHIFI<3 Also thank you!!! 3.1 left me in some(a lot) denial, thus I shall be taking charge of writing how Mydei's story ends <3. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this, thank you for partaking in the event and helping me celebrate this milestone! <3

Contents: Mydei x Reader, no gender specified(GN, you/yours) but written with a fem reader in mind, fluff

Words: 580

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

His next swing came from the left, swift and powerful, leaving you just enough time for you to raise your arm in defense. The blow still sent you back, and Mydei did not stop his assault there. Several more blows came, left and right, above and under, some you parried and others you dodged well enough. At one point you caught sight of his face, all twisted in focus, so amusing in the moment that it made you chortle. 

“You’re growing frustrated” you noted through a huff, just before seeing an opening to repay him with your own strike. Mydeimos caught your wrist, but could not hold it for a moment longer as you jumped back out of his grasp. Swift as a snake.

“I am not” 

“Tired then” 

He scoffed at you and shook his head, the corners of his lips giving a small tug upwards, showing faintest traces of a smirk. “You can wish” He launched at you, but something caught in his step and more of his body came forward, and with that his balance as well. For a moment you thought you’d miss your chance, as not often did Mydeimos lose his balance, but you caught the moment just in time, your body going down as your foot went under his own, successfully tripping him.

Mydei went tumbling and the breath he let out sounded as if the air got kicked out of him. You wasted no time, hopping onto him and pinning him down with a gleeful expression, perhaps one too smug, yet it couldn’t be helped.

“You are done, Mydeimos” you threw at him, chest heaving and your hand clinging onto him to hold him down - no matter how much enjoyment you took from seeing his eyes widen at you in surprise, you knew better than to let victory blind you. It goes without saying that you may have had some experiences with Mydeimos when triumph was quickly followed by your failure.  “I take victory today”.

“Victory based on luck is no victory to boast about” he shot back at you, gaze narrowing in that catish way of his, fire burning in his eyes.

“You would not be able to complain about that in a real battle” you began, already seeing him roll his eyes, having heard the same words from his mentor, “if your enemy relied on chance to reign triumph over you, it means you, also, relied in part on luck to win” 

“That means - I won, fair and square” you concluded, sparing you both any further philosophical talk that usually came with such topics.

“Fair and square, you won’t be saying that once I get up off the ground-”

“Then I will not let you rise from the ground at all”

“Why, are you scared you might just fail, that your run has run out?”

You scoffed, feeling the big ball of light and fire inside your chest burn brighter at the thought that entered your mind swiftly. 

“No, in fact, it is because I rather like this sight before me. I’d like to commit it to memory”

Mydeimos gawked at you, his lips falling ajar to say something only to find sounds of protest in place of words he wanted. He felt even more frustrated when you began to giggle and laugh, your arms leaving his frame and arms where you had him pinned down - it seems your words were enough force to keep him nailed down until he recovers. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Forty

“I’m not sure about this,” Eddie says quietly.

“It’ll be fine, and you need to learn, it’s been over a year, what if you fall in the pool?”

“I’m not gonna’,” Eddie tells him stubbornly.

“You can’t know that. We have to keep you safe.” It’s mid afternoon on a weekday, so the place is pretty deserted. Steve looks around the changing room real quick, but it’s definitely empty. He pulls Eddie close by the hem of his shirt, kissing him softly on the lips, “you’re going to do fine.” Eddie had spent the first six months of last year concentrating on basic motor function and gaining weight, not to mention getting a pretty good grasp on a whole language, learning to drive, learning to play guitar, plus all the other stuff he’s gotten up to. And then suddenly he had a job and Eddie made friends with Chrissy, there was all that stuff with Owens, and before Steve really knew it, it was too cold again to use their pool.

Eddie really needed to learn how to swim without a tail.

Eddie follows Steve out of the changing rooms and to the edge of the pool, “ow ow ow,” he picks his way carefully along the tile.

“They’re not that bad,” the anti slip ridges in the tile feel a little weird, but not painful. Eddie just glares at him.

“No one else has a shirt on,” he whispers when he finally makes it to Steve, but he needs to wear it because of the no nipples and no belly button thing.

There’s like two other people in the pool, both older guys swimming laps, “no one cares babe,” Steve whispers, before sitting on the edge and slipping in, the water only coming up as far as his middle. “In you get.”

“This is stupid,” Eddie says as he copies Steve, following him into the water, his trunks ballooning a little with air and the material of his shirt darkening and clinging to his skin.

“Everyone should know how to swim,” Steve tells him for about the fiftieth time.

“Legs are stupid,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve squats down, bringing the water to chin level, “okay come on we’re going to stay right here, now float.”

Eddie does, flopping over, Steve’s hand under his middle to steady him and stop him from sinking if he panics, “good now...kick with your stupid legs.”

“I’m so tired,” Eddie sits curled up on the bench in the changing room while Steve gets dressed.

“You did good though,” and Steve is now confident that Eddie won't actually drown if he falls in some water.

Eddie breathes out a long sigh, “I’m so slow now.”

“Yeap, just a regular human guy. How awful for you.” Eddie manages to muster a scowl, “go in the cubicle and get dressed, come on.”

Eddie huffs, but he goes.

Steve’s finger tips leave trails of glittering veils through the air. There’s a sound, far off and diffuse, water, like the steady swish of waves. The air is sparkly, the light soft, and every breath fills his lungs so fully and wonderfully he can’t help but feel it.

“Stevie.”

It comes from far away, and Steve’s more aware of it than he’d like to be, really. He kind of wants to stay here.

“Stevie, come on, I gotta go.”

Steve grumbles, the dream falling away as he nuzzles into the pillow. He cracks one eye open, the shape of Eddie hovering over him in the dark room.

“You’re so cute when you just wake up. Your face is all folded up, like an empty chip packet.”

Steve grunts, “s’early.”

“I know, we have to deliver the bouquet and stuff, and then decorate the church. I wanted to say goodbye before I went. Chris will be here in a minute.”

Steve grumbles, “okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too” and then Eddie is covering Steve’s face with smacking kisses while he tries to escape back beneath the covers.

Eddie bounds off the bed and shouts, “winning!” as he clomps down the stairs.

Steve goes back to sleep.

Steve has his elbows resting on the counter, watching listlessly.

“Stop leaving the sink full of water,” Robin bitches from the bathroom doorway.

“It wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles his protest, not having the energy to fight it.

“Uh hu, it’s one of the many other employees we have here today,” she finishes drying her hands with the paper towel, throwing it in the trash before she lets the door swing shut behind her.

Steve sighs, watching the empty car lot through the glass doors. Robin rolls past on the office chair, then pushes off against the opposite wall and rolls back again, “what’s up with you?”

Steve sighs again, “you ever wonder where...like. Where you’re going? Do you ever think that it might just be this, but forever.”

“I retract my question, go have your midlife crisis some place else.”

Steve bumps his head against the counter, “if this is my midlife I’m dead before I hit forty five, thanks Robs.”

“Is it the crushing and inevitable knowledge that you’re in a dead end job but all the kids are definitely going to go to college when they graduate?”

“Ooof. Nope. Too much, back it up a bit.”

“Okay, how about you still live with your parents?”

“Still quite close to the bone there Robs, thanks, and I don’t live with my parents-”

“Objection. Technicality.”

“...because they aren’t there,” Steve finishes weakly.

“Uh hu.”

“And you, also, live with your parents, I cant help but note.”

She shrugs, “yeah, but not for long. Wait,” she shuffles closer, pulling the chair along, looking up at Steve, being serious for once, “is this because I’m going to college? Because it’s not for a few months yet, and it’s not too far away! We can still see each other on weekends, you can visit-”

Steve sighs, turning away, “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know I just...everyone has direction. Even Eddie with his GED. He’s doing something, you know? Him and Chrissy are growing her business, she has this whole five year plan thing.”

“Yeah, she’s told me about it...in detail...there’s a color coded diagram. But how is that going? The studying thing?”

“Well, he’s only really been working through the books for a couple of weeks, Nancy helped him apply for a couple of evening classes, did I tell you?” Robin shakes her head, “yeah, Math and English, classes start soon, just a couple of nights a week for a semester.”

“That’s so good!”

“Yeah,” Steve feels himself soften, talking about Eddie, “it’s really good. Nancy and all the kids said they’ll help him study.”

“But you don’t have a thing? And you want one?”

“I don’t know I just...feel like I should be aiming higher than Family Video. But I don’t...I really don’t want to go back to school or do college or anything like that, it was never my strong suit, you know?”

Robin gets up to ferret under the desk, pulling out a newspaper, “well then, lets look.”

They have three adds circled when Eddie calls, Steve gets part way through the Family Video spiel when Eddie interrupts him, “Stevie? Can I use the car tonight?”

Steve flicks through his internal calendar a second, “I promised I’d take the kids to the arcade, what do you need it for?”

“I was at the place, you know, centerpieces for the reception,” Steve doesn’t really know, but he knows this wedding has been a lot of work for both Eddie and Chrissy, a job Chrissy wouldn’t have taken on if it was still just her at the shop. But with Eddie’s help, they handled it, and it’s probably going to lead to more of this sort of thing now they know they can do weddings and stuff, “and there was a flyer, a band looking for a guitarist. I called the number and the guy, Gareth, he’s really cool!”

“Right...you want to go meet them?”

“They have practice tonight, I said I only have an acoustic now but they said they could listen and see. Maybe I could get an electric with my savings?” Steve can hear Eddie’s excitement about this practically vibrating down the phone.

“How about I drop you, go get the kids, then come and get you after I drop them home? We’ll probably only be at the arcade a couple of hours anyway.”

“You sure? A lot of, you know, there and back.”

“I know, it’s fine. But you sort the times out with the kids, walkie them when they finish school, okay? I’ll be home around four.”

Eddie hums down the phone, “maybe I should get a car?”

Steve thinks for a second, because, yeah, that would give Eddie more independence, but realistically running another vehicle costs money and they have been managing with sharing the beemer, “we might need to think about cost.”

Eddie hums again, “I think there’s going to be more work with Chrissy. But. Yes, okay. Talk later?”

“Sure babe.”

Steve pulls into a driveway, the garage door open despite the cold, and a drum kit already set up, three guys milling around inside. Eddie is practically getting out of the car before Steve has it in park, hefting his guitar out of the back seat, the excitement coming off him in almost palpable waves.

Well, either that or they do have mind powers, Steve doesn’t know, but it makes him think for a second as he climbs out at a much more sedate pace. Eddie’s already saying hello to Gareth, and now Steve is here, he recognizes these guys from school. Gareth’s already giving him some side eye, which, great.

Because Steve, at some point or other, was probably an absolute prick to these dudes, or at least, a prick to their friends or other band nerds or whatever, “this is Steve,” Eddie is saying.

It’s almost painful when Gareth replies, “yeah, we know who that is,” in a tone that even Eddie can’t possibly miss.

It’s suddenly quiet, and suddenly incredibly fucking awkward, the other two guys still in the garage are watching Steve wearily, “I’ll be back in a few hours for Eddie, that cool?”

“I don’t know man, is it?” And Gareth is now looking at Eddie a little uncertainly, like Eddie is...a bully simply by association.

Steve just shakes his head and backs down, “I’ll see you in a bit,” he tells Eddie, and high tails it out of there. He prays, vaguely, on the way to pick up the kids that those dudes won’t associate Eddie now with Steve’s behavior at school. He second guesses himself all the way to the arcade, Dustin chirruping in his ear, should he have tried to straighten things out? Staying when they clearly still think he’s a massive prick, or worse, actually a danger to them, didn’t feel like the right thing to do.

He remembers smashing Jon’s camera, the whole school would have known about that. The fights he got into. Every time he intimidated someone, surrounded by his sad little army of dickhead jocks. Every shitty thing he’s ever done might just have come back to bite him. Well, worse, if Steve was taking it, it would be fine, he deserves it...but if Eddie’s now being treated badly because he’s friends with Steve well that...that feels shitty.

Steve tries to remember Gareth at School, or Jeff...or the third kid that Steve recognizes but can’t place. Robin would know, he’s pretty sure they were all in band together. He tries to remember if he did anything specifically to any of those guys but he...can’t. He shoved so many kids into open lockers over the years that he’s pretty sure he probably got one of them at some point. Odds are not in his favor, at least.

Steve prays vaguely while watching the kids play games that they’re bigger men than Steve and they will give Eddie the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it’s Eddie, and he can win pretty much anyone over.

Steve hopes.

Steve pulls into the drive, killing the engine. The garage doors are mostly shut, it is still January and fucking freezing. Steve sits and stares absently at the slither of light escaping out from beneath the door. It feels like it’s been dark for hours already, and Steve is caught squinting when the door slides open unexpectedly and the light blinds him a little. Eddie’s sitting on a roughed up couch, sipping something orange out of a glass, his acoustic cradled on his knee. Steve takes a deep breath, and debates getting out of the car.

Eddie makes the choice for him, he gets up, leaving his guitar lent against the arm of the couch, and comes around to the drivers side. Steve opens the door to speak to him, “okay?”

Eddie frowns at him, then looks back at the guys for a second, “Stevie? They told me things about...about you before and I don’t think they’re true-”

“They’re true.” Eddie really frowns then, but what's worse is the clear disappointment.

“I didn’t...I said there was a mistake?” Eddie says gently, hopeful to the last, “when Chrissy said you used to be a prick I didn’t...I didn’t understand then, what she meant. But when they said about...well it made me remember.”

Steve feels a bit sick, “I can’t change it and…it’s no defense but...I was stupid, then...I didn’t understand how much I was hurting people. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say it to me,” Eddie huffs a little, looking away, and disappointing Eddie feels like the worst thing in the world.

“No, yeah, you’re right,” Steve climbs out of the car. And the three guys watch him wearily enough that it really hammers home to Steve just how fucking horrible he’d been some times.

He knows he’s stalling, and he knows he’s fiddling with his hair and he makes himself shove his hands in his pockets instead. All eyes are literally on him, and Steve looks to the side, Eddie looking back at him, eyes big and brown and hopeful. Steve huffs a breath. He can do this.

He’s been tortured by Russians, there’s no way this will be worse. Probably.

“I...was a terrible person. I did shitty things that...absolutely no one has to forgive me for, and I know this is probably way too little way too late. But I am sorry, and I...do get it now. And I regret it. And I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s smiling at him, at least, looking encouraging. And kind of proud.

“So...yeah, I get the damage is done, and I can’t...change it. But Eddie’s a great guy okay? And he’s real excited about being in your band so, yeah, thank you, for having him over. That’s...cool of you.”

“Right,” says Gareth, looking over at the guy Steve is pretty sure is called Jeff, “well that’s...I mean. Thanks. I guess.” Jeff just shrugs.

Steve thinks his body might cave in on itself with how painful this is. He vaguely hopes that he will just disappear into the ground to escape.

“Okay,” Eddie finally says to break the silence.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, “whatever, same time next week Eds?”

“Yes!” Eddie has the biggest grin on his face.

“And remember about that electric, yeah?”

Steve makes himself scarce, waiting in the car as the guys say goodbye to Eddie. He watches as Eddie packs away his guitar, getting a round of fist bumps as they wrap up. They’re all smiling and laughing, relaxed again now that Steve’s out of the way, so Steve figures it’s all good.

[xylatox]

with wings of wax and thread | hik

Another fic from Cam and a Kai fic no less, this interests me so much, unto the review!!

Before I even start, I've always been obsessed with angel and demon themes and the fact that Kai is mode or less fallen makes me more obsessed.

Feathers, soft and white, twisted in the golden glow from the slow-setting sun. Raining down like a thrown stone, sinking and littering the waiting ground. — god the beginning is so enrapturing.

His mouth had filled with blood, the ichor more sugar than iron, his stomach turning from the flavor, or maybe it was the feeling of falling. Flying had been something like this, the air rippling in his hair, every strand kissed with the soft hands of the north wind, a mother's touch. Flying had felt so close to life that even in falling he understood what it meant to have all your memories rush in front of you one last time. Because falling was like the memory of flying, the echo of it so close it was like a shout right in his ear. — this description is absolutely insane what the fuck.

They had come, found your hiding spot, and planned to finish you off, that laugh was only the start. It had not yet turned cruel as it was that day, the parroting of the group still ingrained right behind your ears, following you around no matter how you tried to shake the thoughts. And now they were coming down like a meteor into the only safe space you had ever known. The entrance was hard to maneuver with wings; it only made sense they would have a rough time with landing except there was a giant splash, the water in the moonpool lapping up, the crashing sound like the waves hitting the rocks only now echoing in the carved out cave. — I love this. I am absolutely geeking out over every word so far. It's all phrased so wonderfully. I'm also super interested in reader, she's so intruding. I also love that contrary to typical demon behavior, reader chooses to save Kai, that further makes her such an interesting character.

When they had ripped your wings off you had nothing left to attach, not that you haven't tried, but alone with no help there was no way to reattach wings with your hands. No way to reach behind yourself except to feel the spots they had once been, the jagged scars still there now, the ghost pain of that day still shooting down your back every time you dreamt of that day. — the fact that reader is on her own, it hurts to even think of what she went through.

You had not grown the horns that most of the demons possessed, you could feel the spot they must have wanted to sprout through if they had been given the chance, the area always colder than the rest of your scalp. It had been one of the things they had picked at when taking their dues. — it's so cool that reader is technically demon by birth(?) but lacks all the physical attributes to deem her one, it's makes her even cooler.

Reader's personality!! I love it, I love that there's already thus barrier between them as a result of it.

They had told him never to bite the hand that fed him but this was a forceful hand coming out to get him, twisting its fingers in his hair and pushing his face in the dirt until it was nothing but a given that he had to eat whatever it was that was handed to him. But he listened, taking in each word and trying to keep them as close as he could get them. — Cam...you have such a way with words.

I love that despite the hesitance from reader when they first interacted, it's really sweet now like —“That would be horrible and if you don't listen to me they will be gone, keep your hand away,” you left no room for argument in your tone and Kai listened. He curled his hand into a fist and sat it in his lap. “Today we will let the area breathe and while I’m out we can get whatever we need to make a salve to help the healing process,” Kai nodded knowing that you were right. He didn't even have the first thought of where to start to find out how to help himself. — her caring is super cute.

Also I just wanna say, candle wax is an interesting method to stick the feathers back??? like I wouldn't have thought about it.

He pictured you over and over again in his head. Imagined you with your wings of night in the air next to him, that laugh you had turned his way unlike the one he heard but one he wished you would give him so that he would know something in his dream would be real. This laugh was somewhere caught between a giggle and a sprinkle of light from his fingertips. He locked in on thinking of the laugh over the feeling of flying because it was impossible to not hurt when thinking of the air. But you, thinking of you, felt safe even if it was some kind of hope caught in a dream.  — im going to sob, how could something be so sweet yet so sad.

Kai could not feel the process, not when he was lost in his thoughts. He tried to separate the knowledge of you being a demon away from the proof he had of you being nothing more than someone who was lost. The two could be synonymous is what he reminds himself over again. — :((((

Also the way reader fights over her natural feelings as a demon?? my heart breaks. —But waking up to know he had been here the whole time, knowing that if he had been there he would have helped just the same, settled something inside you that had been overrun with worry. You unfurled your arms from around yourself, throwing them around Kai’s neck and pulling him into a hug. — poor baby.

You whimpered when he brushed over the scars on your back but did not pull away, letting him have a part of you that you would never give to anyone else because he knew what it was like, he knew what it meant, this level of trust rushing into you almost as fast as your coming orgasm. —HELLLLLLIIIIIOOOO??? This was actually so attractive good bye, like the trust, the intimacy behind this???

And then the feathers started to rain. A few white tumbled down along with you as you looked up at him, wax melting from being so close to the sun for only a short time. The edge of his right wing was still tipped in black as if your feathers had infected his mind and thoughts as if they had been the cause of the drop and not the sickening worry he had of losing everything that had just been returned to him. But you could not stop yourself from thinking again of the story you had been told as a child. That demons had been the same as angels, cast out for the bitterness lingering in their near-empty hearts. You two were the same, cast out, and only now did he truly see it. — oh my god. From Kai letting her go to this...it's insane. It reminds me of Icarus :(

If falling felt like flying you would welcome the feeling because anything was better than nothing at all. — oh my god.

I'm so glad I finally got to take my time and read this.

Cam, your writing is beautiful, the way you've described things has left me beyond words. I absolutely love the end where they were both able to relive falling but their emotions were so different at the time. I just love that they're the same ah, this was so amazing♡

with wings of wax and thread

angel!huening kai x demon!fem!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis: In the kingdom of Aethera, an angel is pushed from the heavens. Wings torn and feathers spilling, he finds himself in the den of a demon who wishes to have never been found. Long having lived with your own fall from grace, wingless and bloody just as he is now, you help stitch back up what once was. Can nurtured understanding be crueler than nature? ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: 🔞!!!demon fem!reader, angel!huening kai, angst, blood, depression, mentions of death and gore, reader talks about being violently attacked, cpr performed, slight open ending that could lead to mc/member death if interpreted that way, unprotected sex, no pull out mention, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 19.6k . ݁₊ ⊹

𓅪 ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: I, carrion (icarian) - hozier an: im so in love with this event, the work that all these amzing writers put into this is so astonishing- it’s so wild to participate in something like this when I still feel like a baby writer with so much to learn but thats always the fun bit I guess lol im so happy we could all stretch our creative abilities to come together and make this work <333 thank you for reading!!

[m.list] [aethera!event m.list]

ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 

Feathers, soft and white, twisted in the golden glow from the slow-setting sun. Raining down like a thrown stone, sinking and littering the waiting ground. 

The fall from grace had been sickly sweet. The shock of that first second of flightlessness was frightening enough to cause Kai to sink his teeth into his tongue. Holding back the staggered scream he wanted to let out, still protecting the ones who wronged him. Who had sent a blistering pain down his back, the cracking of cartilage ringing in his ears as he screwed his mouth shut, pleading with glistening eyes, forgiving them the second that his foot had met nothing but air. 

His mouth had filled with blood, the ichor more sugar than iron, his stomach turning from the flavor, or maybe it was the feeling of falling. Flying had been something like this, the air rippling in his hair, every strand kissed with the soft hands of the north wind, a mother's touch. Flying had felt so close to life that even in falling he understood what it meant to have all your memories rush in front of you one last time. Because falling was like the memory of flying, the echo of it so close it was like a shout right in his ear. 

And he laughed, the sound a strangled choke, fighting its way out from between his lips, teeth stained and heart sinking. He had never felt heavy, not when lifting off the ground was second nature. Kai had imagined his bones had been hollow like a bird's, but plummeting only showed him how led he was lined. Heavy, too much for even the mother's air to carry him, slipping through fingers, through feathers. 

He didn't think that having a wing ripped right from his back would have made so many of his feathers come free, whirling around him, in a thick plume. Maybe it was his wing's way of bleeding. He had witnessed the damaged appendages before on others and they never bled, not unless wounded at the base, right at the shoulder blade. But even his feathers now were dotted with thick spots of blood, the droplets rising instead of falling with him, lighter than his lead bones. He reached out, trying to catch any feathers he could, trying to grasp them as if they would be the edge of a cliff he could pull himself back up from. But he came away with nothing but understanding. 

This was a brutal way to make a grave but it was the hand he had been dealt, the cards pushed into his waiting palms without question. He only hoped the ground wouldn’t damage his wings worse than they already were. Half hanging on by tender threads of pink life, he hoped to tuck whatever was left around him like he had when he was a child, creating a small cave for him and him alone. 

Kai was thinking in full circle thoughts, that crippling adult understanding washing away to childlike hope as he counted the seconds down to when someone would realize he wasn’t catching air, their rush to reach him deterred by the weight of him hurtling towards the waiting dirt. If his bones were not lead-lined they had been made of magnets, his ruined wings having kept him from the realization sooner; the grave always called the body. 

The carrion had made the decent look appealing. Kai had grown up seeing the demons sore up only to tuck their tar-colored wings close to their bodies, looking freer than when Kai stretched his out, the span of his shadow over the sea. If they could feel the thrill of descent he could find it in him to enjoy the last of his sorry life. 

The wind picked up, spinning him, round and round, dizzying and giggling. It was his twinkling laugh that made you look up. The jagged rocks circling his falling form, the ceiling of your cave the perfect opening for him to find himself invading. The sun was setting just enough so that the shadow of him cut deep into you, palms slick as you pushed up from where you sat at the edge of the moon pool, sand coating your fingers as you pressed a hand to your racing heart. Blood rushing in your ears, serpentine fear wrapping around your limbs running a chill down your spine. 

They had come, found your hiding spot, and planned to finish you off, that laugh was only the start. It had not yet turned cruel as it was that day, the parroting of the group still ingrained right behind your ears, following you around no matter how you tried to shake the thoughts. And now they were coming down like a meteor into the only safe space you had ever known. The entrance was hard to maneuver with wings; it only made sense they would have a rough time with landing except there was a giant splash, the water in the moonpool lapping up, the crashing sound like the waves hitting the rocks only now echoing in the carved out cave. 

Everything was getting wet, the water cold to your skin as it dotted your legs, feeling like a burn when you were so shocked. Because as the water settled, the churning sound still worked its way through your skull and it began to rain. The soft white feathers swung down billowing side to side, drifting as if they were a newborn butterfly, always knowing flying was in their bones but never knowing they could do it alone. Drifting to a final stop on water starting to calm. And there sinking to the bottom, face up and eyes closed, was an angel. 

His white wings torn and weighed him down lower and lower to the sandy floor of the pool, the plume of derby shadowing him as he hit the bottom. Hands out on either side of him like someone welcoming in the sun after a long winter, the look you saw before a much needed embrace, not as if you had ever seen it before. 

Stepping to the edge where sand turned to rock you looked back up at the sky, the fading light of the day slipping into hazy darkness, the blue hour working its way over the land before the moon fully made its appearance. But you could only see the slow falling feathers, catching wind and making way in other directions far from where you stood now. If he had been pushed by a demon they would have been on their kill without a second thought, they tracked them without mercy, like the hunters who aimed to play with their food instead of showing it the grace of kindness. If they had hit to watch him run they would have chased until it was over not let him sink in this water so far from home. They would have wanted the angels to see what they had done to such a pretty face. 

Because he was pretty, even in dying. The last bubbling breaths fluttered to the surface until they broke through the tension. You trembled, cold all over from the moment's rush of fear that was still coursing through you, hands clenching and unclenching as you thought over what to do with him. In the water he could rot without much worry to you, the fish would pick him over but it wasn't as if you got many swimming around anymore. The sea folk had warned of swimming too close to your pool, for the first couple months of you finding shelter in the hollow cave, the fish had been your only source of sustenance. But the sea folk kept to their own, even the lowest of the food chain, warning them about you had been easy enough. So his body would rise unless his wings found themselves lodged under a rock. 

You were ready to turn, find company in him even if he was at the bottom of the water until a single lone feather caught your attention. Eyes tracing the swaying descent like a cat following the trail of a mouse. Bleached white like a bone, pearlescent once it landed on the now still water, cupped like a curved leaf or petal. And there, dotted like a heart, was a single spot of blood. You could remember the way your own feathers looked, black enough for the blood to seep in and disappear like it had never existed. 

It had felt like drowning the day you found yourself here. Falling from where they had dropped you had hurt, the salt water burning your open wounds like a quick scratch from a cat. Your mouth full of the ocean, choking and suffocating you as you claw for anything to grasp. They had left you, the rain of black feathers not unlike this angel's white ones now. Only you had been still fighting, ripping at the hold that death had on you because in death you would have to go back to some kind of hell and you wouldn't be able to survive an eternity with your worst moments, not when at that peak they felt that excruciating. 

The angel now had given up, his twitching hand slowing to a stop. If the day you had found yourself drowning in this very pool had been your worst you would not let the same death kill someone else when you knew that it had been survivable. You would not take the name of your brethren as a brand but only the burden as it was, this action a shoulder shake to lessen its hold. So you dove in. 

You had reached the bottom before, the sandy ground only six feet deep, a proper grave for when your arrow rang true on the rare fish that came in. They sank from how heavy the weight of their death hit them. But they had never been truly heavy and you still felt weak in comparison to the other demons you should have taken after. It wasn't until you reached him that you realized you would have to touch him to take him to the surface. 

Your hands slid around his wrist, trying to lift him just enough to get your arms under his. Legs kicked behind you as you struggled to keep yourself in the right position, lungs constricting. He was lighter than you imagined and it was mostly because of the water's help, but his wings, broken, bent, and barely hanging on, weighed him down, hanging behind him like a sheet torn to bits. 

Kicking and kicking you went, feet pushing against the rocky walls lined with coral, sharp enough to cut into your feet. Blood was darkening the small space, his and yours, mixing as you went. The need to breathe begged at your aching lungs, throat tight with the need. He was so limp, no help as you finally broke the surface, gasping air by the mouthful as you reached an arm out for the edge. 

It hasn't crossed your mind how you would pull him out only that it was better to have his head above the water than below it. But you tried, not caring if he got scratched up as you pushed him needing to get him halfway out of the water so he was easier to pull out. Your grunts turned into near cries, he was heavier and heavier the more you pushed him out of the water, sopping body, wings, and clothes adding on to the bricks piled up you felt you were pushing out. When he was halfway up when your arms weak, you pulled yourself out of the water. No time to take a breather as you wrapped both your hands around his wrists. You groaned, putting all your weight back, tugging and tugging until he was just feet resting in the bloody water. 

Your arms are trembling, half limp only held up with the adrenaline crossing through you from the fear that was still making its way through your veins. Pushing him onto his back his partially open mouth looked as if he had already gone and died, effort wasted if you gave up now. You had never been taught the art of saving anyone but you knew what you would want if someone had been kind enough to lift a hand to help you. Fingers locked together you press on his chest, shoulders burning with the effort. Dripping water fell from your chin as you went, the droplets sliding down his cheeks like tears as you cursed. “Don't,” it was all you could make out from your clenched teeth, a demand that he not die right here, right now. Sand digging into your legs, grains between each feather pressed under him, turning them golden as the fading light hit in just right. 

You pressed so hard you felt your arms out snap, elbows locked, chest heaving in the way you wanted him to and then he coughed. The strangled choke like a morning bell, that slim chance of promise of another day. His body jerked to life, shocked like lightning he bolted, turning to the side and vomiting a mess of sea. Your nose scrunching as you sat back,  joints electrified and shot, you fell back into the sand, watching the high mouth of the cave as you listened to him continue his fit. 

In the time you had spent in the Moolpools cave it was easy to only make small movements, you hardly went out unless you were truly hungry enough to risk it. This had been the most motion you had done in a long time, and now you knew exactly why it was easy for them to target you. You felt weak, you were weak, this was only proof enough. But you had saved him, if even for a second, and they would have thought you weak for that too. 

You could hear their laughs right behind your ears. You had not been facing the sky then, but you had hoped, their hands forcing your face into the dirt. Childish demon cruelty taken a step too far even in the eyes of the elders. It had taken you a long time to catch your breath then, your lungs never obeying you but it's another reason why they had believed you dead, the sudden stillness that had taken over your body as the pain made its way through you. You wondered if your angel felt that way now. Only you had been kind enough to let him see the sky before he slipped into unconsciousness. 

Because he had, as you regained your strength to look at him, eyes closed, breathing rapid and uneven. You had given him a chance and now you didn't know what to do with him. His wings were bent and broken. Hardly any feathers clinging to the frail bones they had been attached to. It would be hell to fix them, pain unimaginable to bind and snap them back into place, stitch them together, and pray for some way to make them better again. You stood over him, the white shirt that had once been billowing in the wind was now transparent and clinging to his skin, the thread strong and fine. 

When they had ripped your wings off you had nothing left to attach, not that you haven't tried, but alone with no help there was no way to reattach wings with your hands. No way to reach behind yourself except to feel the spots they had once been, the jagged scars still there now, the ghost pain of that day still shooting down your back every time you dreamt of that day. And on the worst days, you could imagine them still behind you, heavy and protective, enough to curl yourself into your personal space, alone in the dark velvet home you had been born with already built in. Wishing they were back was worse than knowing the pain of them being taken away. And even as a demon, you would not be so cruel as your brethren had been to leave you without so much as the one thing that should never be taken from a person, angel or not. 

You still had your embroidery kit, the soft bag had been tied to your finger the day they had ruined you. The thread was dark, dyed to match the rocky mountains you had been sewing into the fabric. You wonder if they had burned your work after you were gone. All the hard hours doing the thing that you had hoped would get you by in the underworld. People loved to be flashy, spend on extravagant things, and there had been nothing more extravagant than the garments you had embroidered. 

Tucked in the bottom of the small pouch was a thin sharp pair of scissors, the handle shaped like a bird, wings laid back with its beak glossed in gold. They had been a gift when you started to learn, your needles next to them clicking around, silver and all different sizes. Everything was so small, your only weapon that day as if it would hurt them. They Had been useless but they would be put to work now. He would need to be wiped of the sand before you went in and started to clean the wounds enough to see where you would have to help sew him back together. 

You had collected a fair amount of things having lived in the cave for so long, your stash that was similar to a magpies, pretty but never something you used. Sometimes you would find things and keep them just because you might want them because it was better having something over nothing. The crate of glass bottles filled with alcohol is one of those things. It had washed up on the beach after a ship had hit the rocks, too close during a storm to leave anyone alive in the mess. You had picked over the wreckage just as the carrion you were nicknamed after. Someone would have wanted it and so you had taken it just because of that fact, if the gold meant nothing to you but everything to another you would have it, as was your nature. Now you could use it, uncork the bottle, and pour it over his back if you could get him to roll over again. 

Kai did not see you move to the dark corner where your stash was hidden when he blinked himself awake. In his confusion his lungs still felt full, his throat constricting as if he was waking in the water and not beside it, choking because his mind was trying to catch up to his reality. He hurt all over, his chest and stomach scratched and burning, heavy with an ache of bruised ribs. His back was on fire, screaming at him, begging him to scratch and rip at the pain. It made him whimper, the only sound that could come out from his raw throat. 

He could not think past anything but the look of the sky above him and not behind him as he fell. And when you showed yourself, a bottle of clear liquor in one hand and a small pouch in the other, he believed you to be a human stumbling upon him on a lone beach. He had not seen many humans, accustomed to staying up in the heavens with his brethren. And how could he have known what you really were when you were wingless? You had not grown the horns that most of the demons possessed, you could feel the spot they must have wanted to sprout through if they had been given the chance, the area always colder than the rest of your scalp. It had been one of the things they had picked at when taking their dues. 

To them, you had been no demon without the markers they had been so used to seeing, your wings the only thing tying you down to their depths. Even your power had been faint, strong enough to only wave a candle's flame to life, no roaring forest fires and destruction.  To Kai, in that moment you were nothing more than a girl who looked like the saving grace he had been begging so fiercely for when falling. 

For an angel, his dark eyes cut through you like knives. You had not been looked at so intensely since the attack, people who caught a glance had known to keep going and turn away. This gaze was a line of glimmering hope that he had thrown around your shoulders tightening until it was nothing but a collar of expectations tugging you forward. You had been taught to crush looks that felt suffocating, praise broken bonds, and burnt bridges before ever letting someone take you for a helping hand and honest heart. “Do not look at me like I'm something to be thankful for,” 

It was not the first thing that he had expected you to say to him. Not when he was so close to thinking you to be some sort of angel like him without the matching wings. Your voice cut through him, sharp and demanding, nearly as painful as it had been to wake up like this. Everything was falling apart; his body, his grip, which he had believed to be tight, around his good faith in people. But you had pulled him out of the water and maybe he had come to expect too much from people. A package deal that had been wrapped up in the warped expectations of the angels. Not that most of them followed the rules, but it was better to hide behind the guise of kindness than the truth of wrongdoing and instinctual indifference. 

The fallen angel only blinked back at your words instead of taking them in, eyes softening at the realization that it had been you alone to pull him out, your chin still dripping with the saltwater that stung the open wounds on his back. He could not do anything but look at you thankfully because it was the only thing he could focus on feeling without turning back into a pit of despair that had let him give up the second he had hit the water. Thinking even about that second of thought that would have led to forever was nothing but crushing rocks landing on his back heavier than the wings still trying to hang on by nothing but thin ribbons of flesh. 

And in truth what the look did was make you nervous. Like some lone schoolgirl who couldn't be under the pressure of her class watching a presentation. It frustrated you to no end, twisting a bloody knuckled hand around your insides and tugging them down to your knees. He was in no way able to make a move to hurt you that you wouldn't see coming first. You knew the small cave better than anyone alive and he was weak, his hands opening and closing limply like the steady wings of a butterfly resting. And all his feeble voice could muster up in response was, “Thank you,” 

The words strung together felt like thrown stones hitting you one after the other. You had been kicked out of your home and told you were no more demon than the humans roaming the castles pretending to play ruler and kingdom. To be told thank you for saving anyone, or even more specifically an angel’s, life was the final nail in your coffin. Every last thing they had said to you as they ripped your wings from your shoulders buried deep enough to burn, those two words sprouting from the grave to show the fruits of your tormentor's labor. The final stamp to seal the truth of your wrongfulness. 

It would have been easier to kill him then, easier than having to hold him down as you tried to help him, and easier than pulling him up from the depths of the moon pool. But they had been right to call you a sympathizer, right in calling you weak because looking at him needing you it was impossible to turn him away. “I'm going to hurt you,” it was a warning bell, the echo of your voice mimicking the sound of some faint prophetic truth. It was not your intention to cause pain on him but the only way that you could help him. It was easier to confess to that than to say you would try and fix him. 

But Kai did not listen, he did not care if you hurt him so long as it made his mind stop working over his last thoughts. The blinking of tears the second he had been pushed had made him feel little again, a child wondering why bad things happened at all. Why would someone push him, why would someone rip his wings until they were nothing but dead weight trying and failing to hold on to their last breath, drowning him, pulling him under into nothing but darkness? He had been wronged more than he thought would ever happen to him and if those who claimed to be honest, kind people,were the ones who hurt him, what was there to believe when those claiming to hurt him had done nothing but pull him free from death? It was a mess of contradictions and his gut was not helping him pick sides. He was a mix of emotions that felt hollow like a long dead tree waiting for a victim to fall into and perish just the same. Being hurt meant nothing to a newly found desolate creature, betrayed, and seeking grace. 

And so he would let you hurt him because he had nothing to lose, no more to give but turn over and let you try whatever it was that you had planned to help fix him. It was like a mutual understanding had fallen over the two of you like a blanket. He saw the bottle in your hand and knew, watched your fingers as they pulled out the needle, watched the way the metal turned red and you started to heat it enough to sterilize it. It was then that he knew what you were. 

It did not make him cringe, not when he knew that to have a demon at his back was akin to death incarnate welcoming themselves to twist a knife right into his spine. He knew that there were hardly enough people on this island who would have helped him enough to the point that they wouldn’t have gotten ill at the sight of his blood. Demons had steady hands; they did not tremble and they did not cower away from gore. To have been stumbled upon by a demon as generous as you were was a blessing he could not fight back against. 

So he let you turn him over, your warm hands working to take off his shirt, cutting it away until it was nothing but scraps, his face pressed into the sand, the grains catching in his lashes. You were gentle with him, laying out his wings that had lost most of their feelings, numb all the way up until they hit the spots right where they were supposed to be connected. It was the only place he could feel the pain anymore, his lungs and throat secondary to the pain he was feeling right there at the root of him. If everyone else had worn their hearts on their sleeves angels had found a way to wear their hearts on their back, their life source, and now it was screaming at him. 

You picked over the scraps of his shirt, peeling away the thread in long stands, looping the thread around your fingers, and making a small ball for you to pull from as you worked. He kept his eyes closed, lashes laying so peacefully across his cheeks as if he was dreaming in the moonlight and not waiting for you to put him back together. There was no going back the second you started, not unless you picked him apart again just to see the way he looked again while hurt. The thought made you feel a bit sick. The intrusion of it is either your mind trying to work around the situation or your faint demon instinct kicking in, playing with the idea until you fall into the trap of it. 

But it was still enticing even if it was sickening. You were so alone and bored, with nothing to do and no one to see. You had been hurt and had not yet found the outlet for that pain even years later, this was the perfect opportunity and yet you could not bring yourself to do anything but cringe the second you straddled his back. Holding him down with the weight of you as you poured the liquor over his wounds and watched him writhe from the pain. There was little enjoyment to find here. 

Kai tried to keep his mouth shut nearly as tight as his eyes but the second the first wave of the anesthetic washed over him he could not help himself from screaming. It echoed around the cave, loud enough to find itself spilling from the cave's top entrance. If anyone had been walking around they would have run, believing some wolf had gotten too far from the woods and taken a victim. You did not try to shush him, just placed your warm palm in the center of his back and pushed him back down, trying to keep him still even if it was an impossible task at that point. 

Then the first stitch came. It was easier to hold back, easier to try and focus on anything else but the blinding pain he was feeling, it was something other than the emptiness settling over him. He could not think of anything good coming from this, could not see himself going home again, to see his friends, the ones who had pushed him, his mother, his sisters. There was nothing but shame and treachery. They would have welcomed him back even wingless but there was no way for him to ever feel at home again, not when he knew what it was like to be nothing but air and death. 

He did not care if he did not move from that spot, the sand the only thing grounding him as he sunk his fingers in curling them until he could feel nothing but his mind trying to work and count every grain he could imagine on his skin. It was nothing but a tactic to let the pain wash away for even a second. He didn't even realize he was crying until the wetness was making more sand stick to his cheek. The soft rumbling of his whimpers mixed in with the faint groans he would release after a particularly tender part of the stitching. 

“You are very lucky to have me, when they took my wings I had nothing to do but bury the one they had left hanging. I don't know what it had looked like but I do know that it felt like this,” you were muttering, talking to yourself and letting the words come out without a filter just as you did when he hadn't been here. “I would have wanted even the one to be stitched back but I remember the pain and I'm-” The word sorry was not one that came from you often or at all, there was little you could do but say it now but still your throat caught. “I would not wish it on anyone,” 

Your fingers worked fluently, picking up the memory of the old stitches you had perfected long ago in a life you did not care to remember. This was nothing but an old way of passing time that you had practiced over and over again. You had never stitched up flesh and blood but it was no different now than it had been then. In a way, it was a comfort you should not have found in the task but it was impossible not to. 

“I do not know how well this will work but I will try,” his wings, covered in sparse feathers, twitched every once in a while as you carefully threaded your needles, tightening the stitches and watching the way the wings came back to life like a marionette doll pulled at its strings. It was hope and nothing more. 

Kai couldn't grit out any more words, the sound of your voice washing over him like a balm but nothing more. He wanted to hate you but knew it was necessary to feel this way when it came to pain. They had told him never to bite the hand that fed him but this was a forceful hand coming out to get him, twisting its fingers in his hair and pushing his face in the dirt until it was nothing but a given that he had to eat whatever it was that was handed to him. But he listened, taking in each word and trying to keep them as close as he could get them. 

Tried to imagine you with dark wings at your back. The silky feathers always shined so nicely in comparison to his white ones. His wings had looked plush and downy, nothing like the oily temptation of the demons. But he could not get the image around his head, could not see what it looked like any more than what it would look like to go home again. It was with you in his mind that he passed out, eyes closing until there was nothing but peaceful darkness where he had no reason to think of hurtful homecomings and angels dressed as death. 

You noticed almost as soon as he fell into the pain. Body going slack underneath you, all of his muscles loosening before he was nothing but twitching nerve ends from each insertion of the needle. It was not delightful work but clean and concise, the expert precision of a fiber works artist long since skilled in their field. Every so often your fingers struggled to keep hold of the slipping needle, the tips of each digit dipped in crimson as you went on with your task. And even as he lay there you went on with your muttering. “We will have to look for more feathers, only a few fell in here, I still have a couple but I don't know how well you will feel looking spotted like a pigeon,” 

For a long time, you had been sick at the sight of the clutch of feathers that you had kept from your wings long gone. It had been nothing but pain to see them, the sight cutting into you like a knife just sharpened on a whetstone. You had wanted to bury them right along with the wing you had put to rest, ripped the rest of the way from your back from your own hands, and yet you couldn't part with them just as you couldn't let go of the needles from your past life. 

Helping him right now, pinching skin to pierce through and thread, felt like it was somehow stitching up a bit of yourself. You acted fast almost as soon as he was out of the water because it was the way you would have wanted someone to help you. Without discrimination, just understanding. They had given you no chance and if you could not give it to yourself you would give it to someone not far off from you. Because you knew what it was like to live here stuck wingless with nothing to do but try not to rot like some discarded apple. It had taken everything in you to help yourself once you had let go of your past life. The feeling was nothing like you had ever felt before. 

It was emptiness, no more and no less, just an expanse of nothingness that unraveled the farther and farther you went into the recesses of your mind. To pull yourself from that pit and find some kind of routine was nothing short of a miracle. But if someone had been waiting here, even if they didn't pull you out of the water but took the wing you had and gave you the hope to live with that once comfort would have been better than nothing. Even if he didn't have full control over his wings like before he would still have his childhood home still there right at his back protecting him when no one else had. If you could give him that it was enough. 

But then when the sewing was done there was nothing to do but let him rest. The work you had done was as neat as it could be, the prickling skin around the base of each wing would hold steady and let the skin heal. You stood looking over him, sleeping with his soft cheek on the sand, his hair once wet now dry and resting against his sleeping brow. Angelic was the only word that would surface and it felt silly to attach something so obvious to him. He was nothing but angelic down to the bone; to his blood. But even still freckled in dried blood and his half-feathered wings you could tell it was written all over him fallen or not. 

You had seen little of the angels when growing up but occasionally they made a pass over the moonpool's mouth. Their bell-like laughter twinkled like the stars in the night that they flew with. They had seemed so far off and distant. But what you had been told about them was that they were nothing but selfish and self-righteous. Underneath the beauty was callous arrogance, they helped others but only if they had already achieved more and found that they could take the last step without them. Take help but never give credit unless it is beneficial to them to say, drop everything to look good, or fend for themselves. 

They had said all demons had shared blood with the angels, until one was banished, the bitterness infecting their souls until their wings turned ebony with rage and the promise of revenge. The story had been on your mind the second they had picked on you for being weak, wondering if somehow your blood had run thin and showed assets of your long since dead ancestors who had seen the heavens and walked with wings of ivory at their backs. Because although you found yourself thinking cruel things you did not dream to be a cruel person. 

So you cleaned him up as best you could, cleaning the blood from your hands and his back, taking the time to take your wet cloth over his feathers to try and clean them as best as you could. You watched his wings twitch in response every so often but he did not stir, there was little you could do in terms of his pain, little more you could do if he found himself with an infection. You could hardly keep yourself alive in the space, you don't get many fish unless you make it out to the beach at night, or find a rabbit in the woods easy enough to catch with a trap. Two mouths to feed was a limit you would have to push yourself to reach. 

But it was something you would think about in the morning, not when the sun was gone and the cave was dark enough that the only thing you could see was the faint glow of the moonpool. The water reflected onto the walls of the cave, washing everything in an eerie blue hue that minced what it would have looked like if you plunged in and swam with the sea folk. It was one of the few beautiful things you could indulge in and yet now you could add to the list because you had him to look at. 

Without turning your back to him you found your usual spot against the wall, the perfect place so that it was just hidden in the dark with the view to see the ceiling's entrance. There was nowhere else to look with him blocking the water as you lay down, back pressed up against the smooth stone wall, washing your heated skin with the faint coolness it had been seeking. You traced the lines of his sleeping face, scared to fall asleep with him so close. Wishing that in that moment you had your own wings to wrap you up, block you from the fear of waking up with him so near with nothing but questions and demands. 

You curled up with your small blanket, tucking it under your chin keeping the angel in sight. It was only when your lashes were fluttering closed that you noticed his eyes start to peek open. He only blinked faintly, a tremble starting in his arms but he was unable to move them. Kai felt weak, drained of everything, vision blurry with the sight of you lying down in the blue darkness. 

Whatever fear you had before was slowly washing away with the look of pain written all over him. He had no way of hurting you when he could hardly breathe properly from the pain. “What is your name?” you could not keep calling him the angel in your head or out loud. 

Your whisper carried in the room and he closed his eyes at the sound, it had been what he had heard before he passed out and it only made his mind feel at ease, something to grab onto in the pain. “Huening kai,” it was low and the only thing in the whole room besides the two of you. 

“You need to rest Kai, tomorrow we have to look for any feathers that may have dropped around the beach or the woods,” but Kai didn't care about that, not when he was still trying to find more of you to hold onto. 

“What’s-” he couldn't think of the rest of the sentence, not until it was tumbling into him like the rocks off the side of a cliff. He wanted to know your name and hold onto it so he could attach it to the thoughts and memories he was building of you in his head. “What's your name?” He was looking through his lashes only able to keep his eyes open the smallest bit because even that had felt like it took too much energy, the small twitches of his fingers taking most of the rest of his will. 

For a second you could not remember what you had been called before you were just you, because in here, alone, no one asked and no one cared. But it came back to you like the moon had come back each night, there was no forgetting it even if it sounded foreign on your tongue after so many years. Saying it, Kai could hear how unsure you felt until you repeated it again for him. 

So that's how he said it in his head, the slight second between the two the repentance following the state of his mind, that question lingering at the last syllable, and the sigh of content following the tail end when he said it again. So he let it go over and over in his head, counted the letters like sheep jumping over him, letting the thought of you lull him back to sleep instead of the pain. And you followed right after him, sleeping fitfully because every time you heard a small hitch in his breathing you had to make sure he was still alive. Make sure that your effort has not gone to waste. 

And he did live through the night and with your aid you helped him sit up in the morning. Watching him ball his fist and rub at his cheek to rid it of the sand that had built up. He looked like a cherub fallen to the stone and looking up in the foreground of the painting waiting for someone to notice his absence. Because all he could think about was if anyone missed him, if they knew what had happened to him and how he had been pushed instead of just caught in some wind he could not find control in as if he was little and learning to use his wing again. They must have said something, maybe they had blamed a demon for what had happened. 

But now with your eyes on him, watching him as you made to clean his back again, checking if in the night there was no more redness or sign of illness, he could not think to see a demon the same again. Here you were being a complete contradiction to everything he had ever been told in his life. Demons were nothing but troublemakers who thought nothing about others. They kept to themselves and made fun by bringing people down. There was no room for him to think about how good a demon could be to anyone let alone an angel like him. 

Sitting up, letting your warm hands look over his back, he wanted to lean into the touch, let you care for him until he could find a way to fly right out of here. There was no way that he could repay you for something like this, nothing for him to do but sit in the silence you had built around you. But he wanted to break it, crack against the hold that the stillness had over him, and scream at the top of his lungs and curse the heavens even if he had forgiven them for so much already. 

He did not know if he deserved what had happened to him but he understood that it had happened and there was nothing for him to do but take it. Cursing and screaming would do nothing but make him bitter and bitterness took too much from the soul, it drained people and he needed all the energy he could get. “Thank you,” it was again the only thing that he could think to say. 

“I told you it would hurt,” because every brush of your fingers to check your work was making him suck in the air between his clenched teeth, the sound fast and snakelike. 

“Would there have been another way to do it without pain?” it was nothing but a question to poke fun. Kai wanted to lighten the mood but it did not help the situation. 

“Do you think my kind would have taken it if so?” you didn't care to look at his blinking reaction, because as much as he knew you were his only option he still held some kind of grudge against demons. It was written all over his face and you didn't even have to see it to know. It shut kai up in a slip second of shame for thinking the instant no. 

“You're helping me nonetheless,” his hand reached across his body to press at his shoulder, delicate fingers so close to the torn flesh. 

You waved his hand away, “don't touch it, the worst thing would be an infection,” 

“The worst thing would be to lose them all together,” he did not say it to be mean or pick at you, he was not like your kind in that way where they know the thing that would tear you down and pick that option every time. No, he was just stating his truth and he was not lying. Infection could be helped but losing them would be closer to death. It was nothing but words but it made your back burn. 

You had heard of ghost limbs, the feeling of a hand still being there after it had been cut clean off. People believed they could scratch the limb if they thought hard enough to get rid of the feeling. You didn't know how real the feeling would be until you were there with your wing buried in the woods, the other long lost and tossed in a fire if you knew how any of them would have cleaned up the mess they made. If anything was to tear into you it was that first night where everything ached. Your back where the scabs started to turn to scars began to itch and the feeling traveled down to where there was nothingness but the hope of where your wings would resprout if that was ever an option. You wanted to wrap them around you and wished if you felt the ghost of anything it would be the home they had helped you feel but all you had felt was pain. A pain you could not help because there was nothing to do but let it work its way through your system. The pain was not an itch; not so easily taken care of. 

“That would be horrible and if you don't listen to me they will be gone, keep your hand away,” you left no room for argument in your tone and Kai listened. He curled his hand into a fist and sat it in his lap. “Today we will let the area breathe and while I’m out we can get whatever we need to make a salve to help the healing process,” Kai nodded knowing that you were right. He didn't even have the first thought of where to start to find out how to help himself. 

“Can you try and pull your wing in,” you didn't want to push him so early but you needed to know if it was worth the trip to even go out and look for feathers if he could not use them. 

For Kai, it felt like an impossible question to answer. He felt distant from his heart back, like he was cut in half but then he felt your fingertips, the feeling of them dragging along the edge of his wings, tracing the span of them and following the curve. “Can you feel that?” This was easier because it was the only thing he could focus on. The heat of you was constant, radiating from your body onto his like a blanket he wished he could pull in closer. 

“Yes,” it was shallow as he followed the feeling in his mind. He had never been sensitive to touch on his wings, he knew others could feel any brush of their feathers but he felt nothing until now. If he had lost the ability to fly he had gained the ability to have sensation right along the spot he feared he would lose anyway. 

You curled your fingers around the top of his wings slowly following the natural way they folded into themselves and helped him push them close to his back. Kai groaned but it was not as horrible as he expected it to be. With your help, he found whatever connection he had lost because now he could keep them pulled in without your help. But you still helped to tuck the other one close just as neatly, checking around his stitches to make sure they could handle the movement without being impossibly stiff. 

The sight made you clench your jaw. Jealousy had not been a familiar feeling here but it was alive and well now. But it did not matter, you could be jealous and still help him. But you had to get up and turn away, busy yourself with finding your own feathers, the ones you kept at the bottom of your stash of things, making sure they didn't accidentally get seen by you when you didn't want the reminder. 

It had felt easy to say you would give them to him in the moment but the second you pushed aside the spare clothes you had and laid eyes on them it was like saying you would clip off your fingers and let him use them on his own hands. You let the stack of clothes fall right back into place, picking up the loose shirt you could find that would button over him. He would have to wear it backwards because it was not made with wings in mind but there was nothing else for you to do unless he wanted to walk around shirtless. 

But Kai was thankful pushing his arms through the sleeves and leaving the buttons for you to do up for him. You made sure to keep yourself from brushing him accidentally, no need to touch him more than you needed to as you secured the fabric around him. But Kai instantly missed your warmth the second you pulled away. 

“The only way out is up but it's nothing too bad, you only need to raise your arms about this high,” you demonstrated, “it's mostly leg work,” 

“You want me to leave?” he didn't know why it was the first thing he would think, you had just told him about collecting materials to help him but as soon as the words left your mouth all he could think was no don't kick me out don't push me like them, as if you could hear him you shook your head. 

“Do angels only sit around when faced with adversity or do they get up and work?” you slung your bag over your shoulder, slipping both arms in to have it securely against your back. When going out it was the only thing that felt comfortable enough to have at your back when you had little else. “If you want to stay, I say we work together to make sure that we can keep you here for a bit longer, but I cannot do everything and you cannot stay forever. Tonight we only need a few things,” 

“Okay,” Kai stumbled to stand, feeling unstable and wobbly enough to reach out for the walls to hold him up. 

“You can stay here for tonight, rest more if you're not up for it,” 

“No,” it was a slight snap back against the way he was feeling. It was not only because he was feeling weak but because he did not like to sit around doing nothing, he did not want to wait for you to come back or worse wait and think that you were never coming back for him. He's sure that is something a demon would do, leave him here without help just to see how long he would stay without the help. But he was thinking badly because he didn't want to face his own truth, “I need to do something,” anything would be better than sitting around and thinking up ways to hate you over nothing at all. Because there was nothing to hate you over, you had done nothing that would make him hate you but the longer he stayed up with his thoughts they seemed to poison the image of you slowly. And he could not do that to his savior. 

“Fine, you can go first so that I can make sure you don't fall back,” and you had been telling the truth about the way out, the grooves of the walls made perfect spaces for his feet to fit. Only after a few steps up did he have to raise his arms to try and hold himself steady as he kicked his feet out the top of the opening. It was only possible because the side you had set him to get out of was shorter than the rest of the jagged ring of rocks forming the entrance of the cave. And as soon as he was out it was easy to sit and rest with his legs dangling into the open mouth as if he would just jump right into the water he had nearly died in. 

You had no trouble pulling yourself up and out, the rock smoothed down from the amount of time that you had made the trip up even if you avoided it most times. “There is no other way in or out?” Kai asked as you showed him the way down to the grassy underbrush. 

“You could swim in and out, it's not very practical but it's better that way if you want to make sure no one sees you coming in. But I don't think that would be good for you and you have to hold your breath for a long while,” Kai could not think about what it would be like to go back into the water after yesterday, he's sure he would instantly imagine himself drowning again. 

Instead, he focused on following you and your steps through the thick mess of trees surrounding the spot where you had made your home. Distantly he could hear the sea, the soft crashing of waves on the shore lightening as the two of you went until he saw the first blood-dotted feather. 

His wings twitched at the sight, the soft white tucked in between the branches and leaves of a tree. He was silent as he watched you pluck it between your fingers, reaching it like you were picking up a gold coin found on heads for luck. “You will tell me eventually why it is you fell from the heavens won't you?” he watched you twist the feather, examining the dark dried crimson stains. 

“There is little of a story there,” he was clenched all over, fists and jaw tight as you held the feather out for him to take, “you hold it,” he jutted his chin out, the only movement he could bring himself to make or else he would fall apart. 

Kai had gone through many feathers of different sizes growing up. Preening them and feeling grateful to have grown fully so that they did not fall out as often as they had when growing from downy softness to strong enough to let him fly. But it was different to see them like this. He knew they should not be in your hand, or even his. They should not be spread around the woods like bunches of snow that had not yet melted with the coming spring. But it was as if the longer he looked out over the expanse of woods in front of the two of you the more speckles of white he caught mixed in with all the green. 

He was frozen in his spot, stuck just looking out at all the pieces of himself spread out like nothing more than a chess board thrown to the ground, with no intention of being picked up after a soiled game. You could see in him the same kind of evil that was in you twisting itself around your brain the second you moved that stack of clothes and saw your own feathers. When you were young they meant nothing because they had always been there but once it started to go away, once it was nothing more than a pile in front of you it made you feel small and insignificant. 

“When they first ripped my wing it didn't hurt like I had imagined it would have,” you had been frozen, stuck like a kitten who had been picked up by the scruff of its neck. You had looked up with eyes that nearly rolled in your skull the second you realized what had happened. How could you not have felt something so huge? Maybe it was because you could not see it, your mind not catching up with your body until seconds later and it was all you could think to feel. There had been blood, slick down your back and on your fingers as you reached to try and hold onto anything that was left. “For a second you almost think you can fly away from the pain,” 

Kai watched your eyes go unfocused, lost in a thought that had been his reality just the day before. It was almost as if he could feel that foot pressed right into his back again. His ‘friend’ with the heel of his boot cutting into Kai’s spine. He had asked him to look out over the edge of the last cliff, claiming to have seen carrion flying around too close for comfort. It was only a second, looking over the edge so high up he knew that if he flew down and caught the wind that it would be a rush he could never replicate. 

The boot had been nothing but a second before his hands had been on his wings pulling them back until that sickening crunch and tear. It had happened so fast kai had felt nothing until it was all too late. 

“There is always a story and you don't have to tell me yours but know that if I could get revenge on the ones who took my ability to fly, I wouldn't hold back from repeating over and over the same pain they inflicted on me,” you tucked his feather into your bag, “they wouldn't think twice about you so don't give them the grace of never speaking up for what they did to you,” 

“You’d think that because you're a demon,” and for the first time Kai saw you crack a smile, a twisted tarnished thing. 

“We are not too different, the only thing that sets us apart is you thinking you are any better than me. You forget we both woke up in that cave only I was alone and you had me, and how lucky for you that I'm nice and don't just build you up to pull you right back down again,” you turned walking because you needed the distance, “go back if you can't see that we are the same,” 

“My first thought wouldn't have been to hurt someone I helped,” Kai kept pace with you, watching you pick up each one of his feathers as you went. 

“Just because I say I resist hurting you physically does not mean that what you say or think cannot hurt me. You want to freely throw your judgment around and stick a label onto me, reducing me to nothing but blood I did not ask to be born with and still you cannot see how we are exactly the same. We are only doing the same thing in different seasons, only one of us is plain as day and the other is hidden behind some thick smokescreen allowed in whatever game we have found ourselves,”  he could tell there was no room for argument with you. Set in some demon way that made you want to burn instead of heal. But even he knew he was just being bitter, proving you right even if he didn't say it out loud. 

He was grateful and he was upset, he had been a pot of water his whole life and it had never been set above a fire until right now and the bubbling was unwelcome and made him itch all over. He didn't see the reason for revenge when there was no way for him to get back up to the heavens without walking up the stairs and that would feel more shameful than coming back wingless. The only thing he could feel about the topic was that if it had been him or you he's not too sure that it would have been him you would have picked to help. But even he couldn't hide from the truth of wanting to pick himself every time. 

So he kept his mouth shut knowing there was nothing he could say that would make him look better and nothing he could say to make you look worse because faintly you were right about the both of you being so similar. He followed you like a lost puppy, watching you pick over the brush, collecting pieces of him until you found every part of the set to make enough of a picture. You were careful with them, fitting them all together in a neat stack and wrapping a loose string of thread around them to keep them from spilling all over again. 

By the time you two had combed most of the area, the sun was setting into nothing but stars. Two handfuls of feathers and a pit in Kai’s stomach made for little conversation. Keeping his eyes on his footfalls he did not see what it was that made you tense up until it was right there burning in the distance. 

A little ball of fire, dancing seemingly above nothing but the air. A Willo-the–wisp, bright enough to feel like a beacon one could not turn to look away from. But you hissed at the thing, reaching down to pick up a rock, smooth in your palm before you threw it. “Hey!” Kai's voice echoed in empty woods, previously the only sound heard was his crunching footsteps. Your years of walking down here had taught you how to keep yourself light as you made a journey this far out from your home. “See only proving my point, hurting things without reason, what did they ever do to you?” 

But you didn’t feel like explaining yourself to him, it felt silly to believe in rumors about the little creatures but it was impossible not to feel conflicted about bad signs when your life had been full of misfortune.  “Its bad luck to see them,” 

“Well it showed up there was no need to throw a rock at it, bad luck or not it was given the second it popped up,” his statement made you roll your eyes. What was there to do but watch the flame snuff out? It felt better to make the flame extinguish the second you saw it as if they were the thing that leached luck from you the longer they stayed around.  

“I'm not going to sit and let the death promiser dance around and curse me, or you for that matter, I don't know how I would pull your corpse from the cave if you were to die from the infection they wanted to warn you about,” you watched his face pale, your eyebrows lifting letting it known that you had seen that you had won written on him, “see, so let me throw stones, I'm doing it for both of us even if you don't believe it,” 

“It's only an omen, it doesn't mean anything real,” but he was trying to convince himself to fear the little flame, small and weak enough to be taken out by nothing but a pebble. 

“You know we have people who read the stars? Creatures deep in the sea, the woods, the kingdom, even your precious sky. They all have stories and folklore that came from some kind of truth,” you picked up another stone in case you saw another little flame lingering around not wanting to risk a sighting even if you could help it. 

“How are you planning on getting the feathers back on?” Kai wanted anything else but to talk about being the same or not, about folklore and truth. He was tired and didn't want to think about anything else besides what was supposed to come next. 

“Wax, I have lots of candles stored up that will do, if I get the layers thin enough it shouldn't weigh you down. It's also soft enough so that it won’t restrict any growth when they start to grow back,” it felt far away to think about having to go through the process of aging all over again, he had been through the phase of watching his feathers transition he did not want to wait again. The wax would give him an option, anything that would help to keep him from feeling as if he fell so far back from everything he had ever known. 

He wonders if you had thought through the same things with your wings before it was too late. If the idea for the wax had come before or after you buried your last option. He did not think it would be okay to ask that, not when you were helping him already. Demons being fickle was not uncommon; he wouldn't be surprised that you tossed him aside for something new to tinker with if given the option. Rather he gets as much information for you on how to help himself before you leave him with nothing at all. 

You showed him the way back up and down into the cave and for a sickening second, he thought you would push him while he looked for a way to make it down without landing in the water. Your hand had been on his back to steady him and yourself on the edge together. His flinching from your touch only registered as pain and not fear. You jumped down angeling yourself so that you landed right at the edge of the water and you looked up, stepping out of the way waiting for him to follow your lead. 

Kai pushed himself down feeling nothing but air for only a second but it was a second too long. He stumbled as soon as his legs hit the ground, leaning back and looking at you for a sickening moment before he was ready to accept falling back into the water, but you reached out making a fist in his shirt as his arms waved trying to find something to hold onto. The heels of his feet almost tipped him into the water, his wings shuddering and trying to pull in closer, hiding back away as if they could when this damaged. The buttons on the back started to pop with the strain of his weight and he had to reach out for you, hands wrapped around your forearm as you pulled him back to the safety of the sand. 

“You're very clumsy on your feet,” you muttered, pulling yourself away from him and his tight grasp. He was embarrassed but only because he was washed in fear and being caught for it on his face. 

“There was not one time you fell while jumping down?” he waved at the short distance that was available for him to land. 

“Once or twice but you get used to the angle and learn,” you don't put your bag down, not when you have to turn around to look for your candles, keeping your back covered even if now you knew he would do little to hurt you physically. Everything you had picked up from your conversations and just watching him walk around made you realize just how his label fits him so well. He had been more upset over the will-o-the-wisp than his own ruining. But it still didn't make you drop your guard. 

Finding your stack of candles you tucked them under your arm and turned to find Kai sitting in the sand all over again, looking out at the water and watching the way it swayed. He traced the dark outline of the opening leading out to the sea, hardly noticeable if you hadn't said there was a way out before. He would have believed there was only the two of you and not the world's ocean just a few feet away from him. So much just inches away from his tomb that he believed he would have been stuck in until someone found his heavy lead-lined bones. 

“We don't have to do it tonight if you don't want to,” your voice was soft as if you knew he was stuck in some darkness in his mind, struggling against the hold of some blanket of depression he had thrown over himself and couldn't find his way out of. “It would be better too because we need the light and I can hardly make a fire big enough to produce enough,” 

Light, once so easy to produce on the edge of his fingertips, wasted power on his childhood innocence trying to find ways to light up his bedroom when he was supposed to be sleeping. It had been easy back then and now sitting here wanting to get it all over with he couldn't get up enough energy to heat his skin. He was cold all over, blood leached, and hollow. Lifting his palm he focused in on his hands, the soft ridges tracing around the center supposed to be the lifeline or so he had been told. That was where he had always watched the light come from first, starting right at his wrist and working its way up curving between his thumb and pointer finger before it was nothing but light held in his hand like he had caught a star. 

Now it was nothing. Not a flicker of illumination nor a hum of warmth. He balled his fist clenching until he felt his nails digging into his supposed lifeline wishing that if he squeezed hard enough he could find a single drop of anything left in him. And still nothing. Not even enough to help him now when he wanted it, needed it most. “Tomorrow,” the word was a bitter thing, in his chest and making it sound rough with hatred. 

“It takes a bit to get back,” you tried not knowing why you didn't just curl up in your spot and wait for the rest of the sun to set so that you could sleep. Ignore him and his well-deserved mood. But you had done the same thing, sitting in the dark trying to make even the smallest flame and nothing would come, “I was never the best at lighting anything on fire, not even the blades of dry grass they let the little ones practice with,” 

Kai listened, watching you from the corner of his eye as you took a seat next to him, legs crossed just like his, your knee so close to hitting against him he could feel the heat from it. “I should have known then that I wasn't like the rest of them, tailless, hornless, powerless,” you gave a dry humorless laugh, fiddling with the candle sticks you had, letting them spill into your lap picking one only one up and examining the wick. He traced the side of your face, following the bridge of your nose right till the end and watching you blow so softly it wouldn't have taken down the light of a birthday candle. 

But a flame bloomed, catching on the wick, and dancing in the coming darkness. It lit up the features of your face, your eyes shining in the light as you watched the small reflection of your power. You had little to give, children had been playing with fire long since they were learning to crawl and you had only come to master a few tricks. “The only thing that had labeled me a demon were my wings, and they had been…” the edge of your lips wobbled, your jaw clenching closed at the itching in your throat as if this was even too much to say to him. “They had been beautiful,” it was said just as softly as the exhale you had done to light the candle, hardly there and weak. 

“I didn't even care about the fire, anyone can light a match or strike flint and create a spark. But…” 

“Not everyone can fly,” he could feel the way you struggled to say it as if it was traveling from his mind to yours. In the firelight he watched the tear fall, tacking down your cheek faster than you could wipe it away. But you caught it erasing it as if that would take your feelings away from you as if it would keep those intrusive memories from surfacing. Because no one would know how it felt to be that high, physically and mentally, unless they had been up there with you catching air with a laugh bubbling up from your chest like it was coming from a faucet that could never be turned off. 

You blew out the candle, sticking it in the sand and pushing yourself to stand, letting the rest of the candlesticks stay laid out for tomorrow. “Don't worry about what you don't have just yet and be thankful for what you're still holding onto. I'm going to bed.” No more was needed to be said when the two of you both knew it hurt too much to find yourself in the mix of confessions and shared sympathy. So you tossed your bag to the side, turning your back to the wall and closing your eyes so that you couldn't look at the blessing you had given him and hadn't received from anyone else. 

But it was incredibly hard, there was nowhere to look except him or the back of your eyelids and all you could see when you closed your eyes was the vision of you in the sky. It ached to remember and the pain was fresh looking at his new stitches that you had done even with his wings pulled in and sparse of feathers. Because he sat there at the edge of the water trying and failing to open his wings up again without your help this time. 

He could tell they were stiff and he was unfamiliar with the feeling. Before it had been second nature, his wings moving as his lungs did without the need for his mind but now that he focused on them it was like they couldn't work and wouldn't unless he focused on not paying any mind to them. But it was hard to do that when his healing stitches were itching and he was told over and over again by you not to touch them. So he sat there watching the water with his back to you as if that would keep him accountable for not messing up your hard work. 

All that was keeping him up was the promise of tomorrow when the sun would come out and you would help him put his feathers back even if he felt that it wouldn't work. In a way he worried it was too unnatural to work, that somehow it would just fail because it was not right, the wind would not agree and still, if it did work he had no intentions of going home. To go back with wings made of nothing but wax and thread felt like a lie of himself. Some imposter trying to pass as himself to fit back into the same life he had before. But with his wings stuck together like a forged abomination felt like he was never going to find himself comfortable there again. 

He didn't care if they took him in as he was, whispered behind his back, because he knew they would, and let him pretend that everything was the same when it so clearly was not. He knew little of the world below and even less of the world below that one from where you came from, leaving home would be an adjustment but necessary. He just needed his wings healed enough to hide them back inside of him wherever it was they unfurled from when he wanted them. It had been uncomfortable back in the heavens because there was no need to hide who you were. He would have to get used to the feeling but it would not be something as horrible as this ache was now. 

It wasn't until the morning, the sun just peeking over the edge of the cave's mouth that he realized he had not gotten any sleep at all. He listened to the water, the chitter of the animals in the distant woods, and the sound of your easy breathing while you dreamt. He wondered if you would have dreams of flying, if they hurt just as bad as the pain of knowing you never would fly again but he knew they must have been tethered feelings; unable to have one without the other. 

He pictured you over and over again in his head. Imagined you with your wings of night in the air next to him, that laugh you had turned his way unlike the one he heard but one he wished you would give him so that he would know something in his dream would be real. This laugh was somewhere caught between a giggle and a sprinkle of light from his fingertips. He locked in on thinking of the laugh over the feeling of flying because it was impossible to not hurt when thinking of the air. But you, thinking of you, felt safe even if it was some kind of hope caught in a dream. 

Because you would never fly again he knew that much because you were so certain of it. He had known of people who wanted to mimic the feeling of flight. Making things out of clockwork and magic as if it would help them but that felt worse than having to go home stitched up. To walk in with wings not even close to the ones you owned, or were born with, felt like the worst kind of death. You wouldn't have even known that you had died, that the only thing keeping your body animated and moving were the strings of your delusion tied so tight around your joints that you never got a chance to look down and realize this was not you at all. 

So he tried to grasp that laugh because it was the only thing that felt close to real; the only thing that felt close to happening at all even with all the distant hope he was supposed to be having. And when you woke you could see it all over him, the failure written on every inch of him. It fueled an anger you had not felt in years, the simmering pot inside you turned up to boiling over nothing more than an empty glance. 

You kept to yourself, let him stay seated by the water, and went about to find the two of you food. And it wasn't until the two of you had eaten that you set into getting yourself ready for the long days work waiting for you. Candle in hand you watched him look back out over the water and you couldn't take it anymore. Kicking at the sand you watched the grains puff up in a plume around his legs his hands waving away the dust, brows scrunched as he scowled at you, “Stop looking as if I'm a failure already,” 

“I didn't say anything,” but he knows what you're talking about, the thought had infected him and was spreading as rapidly as the infection you had warned him would happen if he touched his back. 

“You didn't have to say anything, trust me if saving your life meant little to me I wouldn't have done it in the first place, I wouldn't waste my time,” you grab the handfuls of feathers, his eyes locking in on them in hand. 

“You have nothing better to do,” he didn't mean to say it but it was true he felt it and it made him believe it was the only reason why you were helping him. Because you were bored here, sitting in a cave doing nothing that he could see because there was nothing to do but sit. He had made it so that you had something to do. In a moment you would turn him away and tell him not to come back, to find someone else willing to help him. But you wouldn't let him give up on you. 

“No, I don't but I could have done anything else besides this. Hell it might be more fun watching you fall again than it would be to watch you actually fly but I guess we won't know unless we try,” but Kai’s scowl was back and it was better than seeing him feel nothing at all. 

“Why would you say that? You know what it's like-” 

“Exactly why would I help you for nothing at all but boredom? I wouldn't help if I didn't want to see you succeed, I wouldn't be doing this at all I would have let you die. So stop wasting my limited kindness and accept my effort without believing it will lead to nothing but failure,” 

“You would do that, wouldn't you?” because it had caught on him, the idea of being watched as he fell again by someone who would enjoy it. Unlike the first time, it would be worse, he would never come back from that fall, because even if he had forgiven the person who had pushed him he had known the second he felt their foot on his spine that it had been out of pure evil, if it were you doing all this just to watch him fail again it would be worse and there would be no forgiveness. “Build me up only to prove I should never fly again,” 

“You are incredibly cynical,” you blow on your candle, watching the flame heat the ivory colored wax so close to matching the color of his feathers. “Did you ever think that maybe I want you to succeed? That it would help me see you make it out of here more yourself than I ever would have left this place?” you stand behind him, pushing back the first row of feathers as gently as you can before placing the feather over the node you knew a new one would find to grow. You tilt the candle just enough until the wax drips, translucent dots pattering around the area as you watch the way they dry the color blending in perfectly. You let the feather go watching the way it sticks and stayed in place, right where it looked like it had never been gone. 

Kai could not feel the process, not when he was lost in his thoughts. He tried to separate the knowledge of you being a demon away from the proof he had of you being nothing more than someone who was lost. The two could be synonymous is what he reminds himself over again. He had his back to you and was hoping you wouldn't shove a knife right through him but that didn't mean he wasn't worried. 

He did not bring up his thoughts again, he let you work and passed himself off as being hopeful when it was the last thing he felt he was. He was grateful that you cared enough to try even if he believed you had ulterior motives but he would not say out loud that he had any hope when it was not true and if it was it felt wrong to jinx it. 

And so you worked, the slow repetitive motions evening out your heartbeat. And even when the wax fell to your fingers you did not flinch, taking the slight burn and continuing. Even Kai did not back away from the fallen wax when the sparse drops landed on his back. Anything was better than the pain he had felt before and now this felt pleasant, trembling from the shock the first time and accepting any other spot that made itself known to him. 

Then the two of you began to talk, small things that felt so insignificant when you were alone. His first question filled up the silence, “What's your favorite color?” you had not been asked in years something so lighthearted, there was no need to have a favorite when you wouldn't seek it out. 

“I don't know,” you had shrugged, dripping the wax over the next feather in the lineup. By midday, you had done one whole wing. The way the feathers overlapped made it so that you never even saw the wax since most of the top feathers had stayed in place. 

“You don't know? How could you not know your favorite color?” It was hard to explain to him how it didn't matter because Kai would take nothing short of an answer he saw as being good enough. He asked again, asked what it had been like when you were a child, and he listened as you tried to explain.  Answering his own questions and trying to take everything off his mind besides you and who you were. 

He asked you everything and anything he could think of until it was too late and the only thing he could think about was the fact you had stopped and were looking over his stitches again. “Is it bad?” 

“No,” it was the opposite of bad, he healed exceedingly fast because of his angel blood, the once torn flesh already looking a day away from having the stitches removed. “It's doing well, but I ran out of feathers for your right wing,” 

“Oh,” he felt like he had been deflated, his shoulders already bent forward so that you could have the best access to his back and he did not think he could sag anymore, yet he did. Periodically as you added more feathers in you would tap your wax-coated fingertip against his spine asking him to stretch his wings out. In the length of a day, he felt stronger and more like himself as the time passed. He could hold the weight of his wings up fine even with the thread still pulling him together bit by bit. And now he couldn't even finish what had been started. 

You had not thought before you spoke up next, the words spilling out as easily as the continued answers to his constant questions, “I still have a few from my wings if you don't mind the color,” but once it was said it felt right. You had no need for the feathers anymore, the only thing they did was bring you pain. They should have been buried right along with the rest of your wing and now you knew that there was some reason out there why you had kept them besides the reminder of a painful past. If they could help it felt right just as it felt right the second you pulled him out of the moon pool. You could give them up because in some way healing him was healing you. What better than to let your feathers fly again when you could not? 

And Kai did not mind, not when now he was itching to fly again, the hope somehow filtering into him the second you had told him to stretch his wings out again, to try. He let you put the feathers on, looked at the glossy ink color, and had not turned away because now he was tying the strings of his delusion on and he could not bring himself to stop. 

You did not feel loss this time around when seeing your past spilled out in a heap in your lap as you took wax to each one, fastening it to the angel boy's wing to give him one last chance that you wish you could have had. It felt cathartic, watching the way the colors contrasted and blended so well together. Your fingers ran over the line of them the second you had finished. A soft sad smile on your lips as you told Kai to stretch one final time before trying to fly. 

It felt so sudden, so soon from the last time he had taken flight. He hadn't even realized it was his last time at least before the fall. He wondered if you remembered your last time, what it had been like, and if it felt just as insignificant to you as it had to him. Wondered what you would have preferred your last flight to have felt like, where you would have gone. But the thoughts were a distraction to him trying to fly now. 

Kai stretched his wings, the white expanse only broken up by the tip of black at the end of his right wing. He couldn't remember what it felt like to lift off the ground instead of hurtling towards it but then he felt it, his heels lifting first, and the soft beat of his wings echoing in the small space. You stood back watching with a blank expression, tingling all over because you couldn't believe you had done it. He was up, the tips of his shoes just hitting the stirring sand before he felt his wings give out.

Shouting he fell, the distance nothing but a foot but feeling like he had come crashing all the way back down the side of a mountain. His back ached but not from pain but the strain of weakness. “You can try again tomorrow, we just have to keep at it even if it's a little bit every day,” Kai had fallen to his knees, looking up at you with his slumped shoulders and puppy dog eyes. 

“Thank you,” the words still tumbled into you, but it was easier to accept when the fruits of your labor were still right at the forefront of your mind. He had flown even if it was just a foot, it had been more than what either of you had expected. You had worried of his stitches ripping, worried of the feathers falling with only a few beats of wind and they had not, both holding stronger than your conviction. 

Your smile could not be contained, the edges of your mouth trying to hold it back like a stranger at the door because it had been far too long since the last time you felt this happy about anything. “It worked,” disbelief made itself known in your tone but Kai was just as surprised. He did not care at that moment if he got any higher off the ground, only that he did not have to lose so much of himself. “It worked,” he mimicked his smile wobbling as he fought back his tears, “it worked,” 

It was the way he said it last that hit home. You did not think about it hurting so bad to see him succeed, jealousy thick and alive in your blood. You wanted that feeling, you wanted those words to come from you not just from being an aid but from being the project. The words were felt all throughout you as he whispered them, just enough to watch the stress of never again flying dissipate into nothing but happiness. He had been empty and you had tipped in a bucket of everything you had to give, he had gained so much and you lost more than you had to offer him. 

There was nothing more to call it besides envy; sickening jealousy. If you could rip the wings right off his back and give them to yourself in that split second you would have. It was not productive but it was the only thing you could see when you looked at him. But you shook your head as if you had been caught in the rain and needed to get the water from your hair, pushing the thoughts to the side. You would never have what he did, no way for you to have given yourself the chance in the way that you had given it to him. 

So you squashed the feeling, talked yourself out of the need to cry once the two of you had laid down. Your back to the wall again as you look at him with that faint smile on his lips because he was getting to sleep peacefully since the first time he had come here without the aid of his pain. The outline of his wings in the darkness made them look just like a shadow behind him. And it was so hard not to cry as soon as you knew he was asleep. Wanted to turn and face the wall to give yourself the illusion of privacy in your struggle to keep the burn in your throat from turning into a sob you had fallen into to fitful sleep. 

What had awoken Kai was the strain in your voice, the way you muttered, again and again, the word no, the noise of it getting louder and louder until it was impossible to ignore the sound as if it was nothing more than the hum of a mourning bird's song. He opened his eyes and there you were on your makeshift bed, your face pressed into the blanket, your back turned to the sky and you reached back trying to scratch at your shoulder blades. But even in sleep, he could see the way it pained you, hands only just brushing over your shoulders when you found yourself pinned down in sleep. You were whining, crying in your sleep, and it was full of pain. 

Because in your sleep you had dreamt of that first night without your wings. You could not lay on your side, could not lay any other way but with your face to the ground like they were pulling your wings from you all over again. Back facing the sky praying that they didn't come in because you had no strength to turn over, no strength in you except to try and restrain yourself from scratching at the healing wounds, unaided by careful stitches. 

It had been a long time since you had felt the dream so real that it made you believe there was something wrong with your back. Because you were somewhere on the edge of your dream telling yourself it was real, that the pain was right there at the surface and you didn't know it unless you woke up. If only you could just wake up instead of struggling as you had back then. And when you looked to your side there was no kai, just the outline of that wing, the one you had to pull off there dead and waiting for its burial. 

But Kai would not let you sleep through it, not let you scratch at your shoulders and wade through the dreamscape colored in nothing but the shade of a nightmare. He grasped your sleeping hand, the one fluttering at your back like a moth to a flame and curled his fingers between yours. Your hands fit neatly against his, locking in place as if you had been reaching out for him the whole time. His free hand was at your lower back, keeping away from the top where he knew you were trying to reach. And when your eyes opened your gasp followed the way you shot up, back pressed back to the wall and you tried to cure the burning. 

You knew this feeling, the momentary ghost wings pretending they still had feelings for which could be hurt. Everything about you felt as if it was shaking, like a rattling cabinet of glass in an earthquake because your world was shaking at your feet telling you something was wrong but you couldn't tell what it was. “It's okay it was only a nightmare,” Kai tried to sooth, thumb running over the back of your hand that he held in both of his. 

In your dream you had been alone, so much of it had been like it always was. Pain circling around everything you had come to know. But now there had been pain but the faint hurt that Kai had not been there to help you. As if he could go back in time and do what you had for him even if it was no use you had just wanted him to be there next to you. But he hadn't been and in the mix of the sobs you had found his name and prayed he would hear because if they were your dreams you should have been able to grab them by the neck and control them, not follow them down the dark hall that felt neverending. 

But waking up to know he had been here the whole time, knowing that if he had been there he would have helped just the same, settled something inside you that had been overrun with worry. You unfurled your arms from around yourself, throwing them around Kai’s neck and pulling him into a hug. 

He did not freeze up under your hold but melted into you, sliding his hands around your back and pulling you closer to him, your face pressed into the space between his throat and his collarbone. He hadn't known how much a hug would have helped him just as it was helping you. You were warm and clinging to him in a way no one had ever needed him. 

Kai could have sat like that with you in his arms until the sun came up and you would have let him because you needed to be closer and needed something that only he could give you. Your fingers ran through his hair, his hands sliding down your lower back pulling you to straddle his hips because he needed you chest to chest, needed to feel the weight of you against them to make sure that he knew it was real just the same as you did. “You're okay,” he whispered the words, a hammer against the dam you had walled up in place to keep you from ever getting close to anyone ever again. 

It was so quick you are unsure why it was your instant reaction. Your lips kissed over the mole he had right along the column of his throat. The feeling of his words pressed right to your mouth when he hummed your name. Everything was so much easier to do in the half dark, the room alight in that blue glow of the water, the moon still high in the sky as he slipped his hands under your shirt, cool against your heated skin and only making you arch further into him, hips sinking as you kissed up his neck. 

Neither of you stopped the other from the exploration, you curled your fingers in his hair right at the base of his neck and he found any expanse of skin that he could let his fingers touch. And when you finally made your kisses stop right at the edge of his lips he couldn't help but turn his head, chasing after your mouth with his desperate desire to get lost in you. Because once you started neither of you could pull yourself away from stopping. 

He tasted like nothing short of twinkling light filling the darkness that you had let wash over you for far too long. His soft moans caught in your mouth with each drag of your hips now perfectly placed over him and his wanting need. It was the only way to describe the way he was feeling, he did not just want you, he needed you, so hard from just a few devouring kisses that you couldn’t resist. 

You pulled away for only a second standing so that you could take the few clothes you had on off. Kai sitting there watching in awe as you peeled off your shirt, his hands itching to have you back on him with no layers between the two of you, chest to chest but closer now being skin to skin. He reached out for your hips pulling you closer to him so that he could rest his chin on your stomach, looking at you like the fallen angel he was, like you were the only savior he had written in his stars. 

He let his lips pepper over you, your hands brushing the hair from his brow, his fingers dipping into your waistband holding the fabric in a way that asked you for permission to tug them down and off. “Please,” he whispered check pressed to your hip, “I need you,” and you would give him everything he asked for if he continued looking at you in that way as if nothing in the world mattered but you at this moment, not your blood or cruel words, just a boy and a girl seeking out the pleasure of another. 

You let him take your pants off just as easily as he had let you tug him free from his. And when you sank onto him, took all of him in with a gasp at the stretch working its way through you, nothing had felt more right. Because he was curving into you, your lips were his only salvation as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth on him. His face washed in the pleasure of having you his hands growing warmer and warmer as they held your back. You did your best to avoid his stitches, ignoring his wings that twitched along with his body every time you found a new slow rhythm to move to. 

The angle the two of you had was grinding against your pleasure point, your moans so sweet and rumbling against him. He traced up the line of your spine with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around your back to make sure you stayed in the circle of space the two of you had created. You whimpered when he brushed over the scars on your back but did not pull away, letting him have a part of you that you would never give to anyone else because he knew what it was like, he knew what it meant, this level of trust rushing into you almost as fast as your coming orgasm. And right behind him the soft blue light of a will-o-the-wisp on the water, gone as quickly as it had come into your field of vision but you would not have cared in that moment anyway. 

Both of you neared the end, and when you came, the feeling in your belly took all the space to think because it had been reduced to feeling only him and the pleasure he was giving you. His hands felt hot and alive with the power he had believed had been lost to him as you trembled in his hold, swallowing down each little noise you made. He guided you down to the blanket stretched out on the sand, rocking his hips now chasing after his own high watching the hazy look wash over your face as you held onto his shoulders. And behind him his wings spread covering the two of you in that safe space you had craved more than anything, his panting breaths pressed to your neck as he spilled all he had into you. 

You could only focus on him and the way he brought you the closest you had ever felt to being whole again. Wrapped up in nothing but him was close to being saved because you both knew how similar you were and to be seen like this, to be understood, was healing all on its own and you welcomed everything he had to offer. You would let him take you again and again because you felt linked, the jealousy washed away because being held like this was enough to sedate the torment you had found yourself subjected to being here alone for so long. 

And in the morning, when the sun came in on the new day you never felt as excited to see the light as you did in that moment. Because Kai was grinning looking over at you knowing what it meant. He would go out and try again and again until he knew that he could fly even if it took time but here starting today would be the beginning and he would be starting it all with you at his side. 

He did not need help out of the cave's mouth this time, pulling himself up as easily as if he had been doing it his whole life. And he stood, looking out over the water below him and knowing that if he fell he had you there willing to pull him out if he needed it. He looked to the sky the second you pulled yourself up next to him, his wings spreading out and beating softly enough to draw your attention. “We don't have to start so high up. I know it's a short distance to the ground and it won't hurt much if you fall but just in case it might be better to go to the beach,” 

He should have listened to you but he was too excited to think about where he was when all he wanted to do was fly. “Just this once and we can go to the beach and try again if not,” he reached his hand out at his side, low enough to find yours and your welcome squeeze in support. 

“It's okay if you don't get up too high so long as they can carry your weight that's the main issue at the moment because of the stitches,” Kai nodded along half listening as he focused in on the clouds. He pulled your hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before letting it go once more before trying. 

Both of you held your breath, the seconds passing slowly as you waited for his heels to lift again only this time it was so much higher, Kai was rising, each beat of his wings only raising him and widening your smile. You had done it, you had made him fly again and it didn't hurt but made you elated. 

Kai could feel the wind welcoming him, pushing him up and up until he could see nothing but the expanse of blue and you were gone. It was that thought that had him going back. He could have spent all day up there if he could, if he knew that it wouldn't hurt him if he pushed himself so far but thinking of you watching him without being able to feel it tore into him. He flew back down landing right where he had started and laughed like it had caught him by surprise. 

And he looked at you, his arms open enough for you to run into them, that smile you wore was going to be tattooed along the insides of his eyelids because it was the only thing we wanted to see. Because you had done this for him, you had given him his flight back, his hope, and wrapped in nothing but sarcasm and truth because it was your way. So he hugged you tight, kissed you until your arms were locked around him just right and he took you with him. 

It had only been in dreams that you felt the faint feeling of being weightless. The wind hits your face as you let the laugh bask in the morning sun with you. It had been everything Kai had wanted, his dreams coming to reality as he caught the wind to carry the two of you higher and higher, until it felt as if you both would be made of nothing but clouds and happiness. He knew what it meant to be up in the sky like this again for you and knew that it would never be much of a thank you in return for what you have given back to him. 

And when he found a place to be steady, beating wings behind him, no pain in sight as the two of you looked out over the green and blue land and water below you. He held you close, arms keeping you up and in place even with your dangling feet picking up the memory of what it had been like before when you were a child with nothing to be scared of because you had not been wronged yet, you had only been a girl with wings happy to be in the air. 

Kai pressed his forehead to yours, nose dipping and bumping your cheek as he kissed the edge of your smile. And it didn't matter anymore if you felt weak, or had been told it was all that you had ever been because you had saved someone worthy of being saved, picking up yourself along the way and flying through him when flying was only a word thrown around to hurt you. You had put his wings back when they had been nothing but torn flesh and nothing made you feel this good, only the knowledge that you knew he would take you again if you asked. 

The trail of your fingers did not cross your mind when you felt this good, your subconscious working over the thoughts you were having and putting together the puzzle you had made by following the seam of his stitches. You could feel the knot you had tied to secure the wing in place, the spot you would have to cut away when pulling the thread free after you had checked again that his fast healing had done its job. 

But the ghosting of your touch on the closed wound was akin to you pushing him into a frozen lake, the ice breaking beneath him and reminding him just how heavy he had been when he had nothing behind him to support his body. It was the fear mixed with your words that you had said what felt like ages ago, as if when the two of you had shared then you had been different people. But here at his core, he felt it, that foreboding and gut-turning maggots wiggling into his skin and poisoning his already made-up mind. ‘Hell it might be more fun watching you fall again than it would be to watch you actually fly but I guess we won't know unless we try,’ you had said those words, he had rolled them over in his head over and over again because it had not sit right with him, but he could not remember the rest of the conversation, not when your fingers were messing with the stitches right on his back like you were fulfilling a promise. 

It had been quick, the intrusive thought taking over because all he could think again was that you two were similar. He would have helped you yes but if it had been him or you at the bottom of the water and both of you had to pick who got their wings back he would not hesitate to make sure he felt this feeling again. And having you here, threat alive in his mind he could not help himself from leaning into the cruelty if it meant saving this. 

And so he let you go. 

When in his arms it had been the illusion of flying, still grounded to him just by holding on but falling from this height was even closer to the feeling of flying. The wind rippled around you as you fell in slow motion, his sweet angelic face washed in shock at what he had done and all you could do was think about how you would forgive him because you knew that if it had been you in his place, demon or angel, you would have done the same. 

You did not feel heavy, you felt free and the laughter echoed around Kai as he realized his mistake. His fear had control over him in ways he had not expected it to and his shouting did nothing to make it any closer to you as he tried to catch up to your falling form hurtling closer to a waiting grave that had once had a tombstone with his name written on it. You had missed this feeling of freefall and descent, missed the open arms of the wing kissing your skin in the same way Kai’s hands had only the night before. 

And then the feathers started to rain. A few white tumbled down along with you as you looked up at him, wax melting from being so close to the sun for only a short time. The edge of his right wing was still tipped in black as if your feathers had infected his mind and thoughts as if they had been the cause of the drop and not the sickening worry he had of losing everything that had just been returned to him. But you could not stop yourself from thinking again of the story you had been told as a child. That demons had been the same as angels, cast out for the bitterness lingering in their near-empty hearts. You two were the same, cast out, and only now did he truly see it. 

The last of his feathers started to come free, his control over his wings lessening as the two of you fell, the sky a perfect image of just you and him with feathers all around as it had always been. The spotting of inky black feathers floating around you, finally ready to be buried alongside the body they had come from. You reached out, Kai’s hand already trying to find anything on you to grasp but was just far enough to miss by the brush of his fingertips. The expanse of blue widens around you and is impossible to tell if you were rising in the sky or sinking closer to the waiting ocean. 

If falling felt like flying you would welcome the feeling because anything was better than nothing at all. 

<333 thank you to @beomiracles who wrote the opening paragraph that is italicized for this event so that we could all start on the same page- taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff @yeoningz @filmnings @jellymochii @dawngyu @bamgyuuuri @lickingan0rchid @felixleftchickennugget @thetxtdevil @luvsicktyun @hyukascampfire @prince-jjae @liverspaghett want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join!want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

It's the start of the jql drought and I'm not doing well friends. March is gonna be a month of jbl rewatches for me.

QL - Currently Watching

🇹🇼 Exclusive Love [4/12] - Once again, I'm here for the sides. I can't help it, I love a pining bestie, and I got two here. I'm not really connecting to the mains for some reason. It seems to be a thing with me and Taiwan lately.

🇰🇷 FC Soldout [7/8] - This show is not great. But honestly, they are all so endearing. And I love that Gang Jae finally told him. That was a very nice moment. And of course we are watching a show with gay footballers so a kiss on the field was obligatory, but in the middle of the game? In front of everyone? Also, is there really only one more ep? I think we need more. Just keep changing some players every once in a while and we could have this show on forever.

🇹�� GelBoys [3/7] - Oh the teenage angst... They are too young to know better so I can empathize, but they are also so mean to each other. I loved the change in pov, although there were more similarities than they were differences. I said it before but I'm so grateful I didn't have to go through any of this in this technology era. It looks exhausting. Can't wait to see more of Baabin tomorrow.

🇹🇼 Impression of Youth [8/9] - I'm just not vibing with this one. The pacing is weird, it feels rushed at times, it feels disconnected, and I just don't find any the couples all that compelling. I'm just not feeling it.

🇹🇭 Ossan's Love Th [8/12] - It's bonkers, it's funny and it's cute. Since I haven't seen the original, I can only judge by what is there. And it's fun. I love EarthMix and they deliver the couple moments like few others. And Mix is as perfect as ever. But it's not without its issues. Which for the moment I'm choosing to ignore. Thor is so pretty.

🇹🇭 Perfect 10 Liners [18/24] - Faifa and Wine are one of the most interesting pairs I've seen in a while. It was funny to see a boy entering the bubble in real time. And Faifa. He's such a kinda soul, and trying so hard to keep it all in for the benefits of others. I'm liking this final arc so far.

🇹🇭 Reverse With Me [4/8] - I'm liking this one a lot. The leads are really good together, for now the fantasy element is solid, and the visuals are stunning. I hope this one can keep it up till the end.

🇰🇷 Secret Relationships [2/8] - I'm a sucker for the kdrama look. It's so minimal and clean and shiny. As usual, I have my doubts this kind of messy setup can be done well in 8 eps but I wanna believe. Seong Hyun is very endearing and I really hope Da On can fall for the nice guy. Waiting to see more before I can say anything else, but I hate a bunch of these people already.

🇹🇭 The Boy Next World [5/10] - It's really parallel worlds, uh? I think the funniest thing about this is how I was genuinely surprised by a 'twist' that was revealed in the first episode. I don't expect a lot from this show, so I'm gonna refrain from saying much about it until the end.

🇹🇭 Thame·Po [12/13] - Please please please, stick the landing. This episode felt like a bridge, to hopefully deliver a solid finale. I like the group went to Po. It feels very full circle moment. Now. Thame, come here! You need to pick up that phone. Please. He didn't read the letter before. He didn't know. You are wanted, you are loved. 😢

QL - Finished

🇯🇵 Call Me by No-Name - That was a pretty show I watched.

🇰🇷 Heart Stain - I feel like I missed something cause to me this was just incredibly banal. And time skip my beloathed. I just didn't feel anything.

🇨🇳 I'll Turn Back This Time - The world building was a mess. It was mostly whatever served the moment. It made no sense. And even the happy ending didn't really feel good.

🇹🇼 A Perfect Match - I can't believe I watched this.

🇹🇭 The Heart Killers - Joong was really great.

🇹🇭 Sangmin Dinneaw - Final thoughts here.

🇯🇵 When It Rains, It Pours - This could've been great, but what I'm left with is a show that wanted to tell a complex and layered story but didn't have the time to actually tell the whole story. So it told bits of a good story. There's a lot I could say but I'm don't really wanna dwell on it atm. It was a big disappointment.

QL - Dropped / On Hold Waiting to hear - 🇹🇭 Us | Waiting to binge - 🇹🇼 Eternal Butler

Non QL - Finished

🇰🇷 The Trauma Code | 🇯🇵 Tokimeki Bakudan | 🇰🇷 Study Group | 🇯🇵 Red Blue

Upcoming - March 02/03- 🇹🇭 Last Meal Universe MDL | Trailer 12/03 - 🇹🇭 My Golden Blood MDL | Trailer 12/03 - 🇹🇭 Lost in the Woods MDL 20/03- 🇹🇭 Top Form MDL | Trailer 28/03- 🇹🇭 Heesu in Class 2 MDL

Well, that's it for now. Happy carnival to all who celebrate, and to the rest, have a wonderful weekend. My ask box is always open. Also if anyone reads this and makes edits of any of the shows I'm watching please use my tag #rosytracks. Thanks💜

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 10 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, fluff, smut, shopping date, makeout session

❥ A/N: thank you for your patience my lovelies, i hope you enjoy 💕

"Can I take you somewhere this weekend?"

"Like where?" Mohammed smiles, taking a sip of his drink.

"I want to take you shopping."

You choke on your drink, coughing into your fist.

"Shopping? Where did that come from?"

"I like how you dress, I really do, but I want to give you some more clothes to wear. I want to dress you up with clothes I got for you."

"Like a doll?" you ask teasingly, and he looks away, embarrassed.

"I don't want you to feel like a toy, or like I own you."

"I don't." You reach out for his hand, smiling at him when he grabs it. "I would feel bad if you spent that kind of money on me. You've already gotten me jewelry and perfume that was way too expensive."

"I don't care about money." He brings your hand to his lips, kisses your knuckles. "I only care about you." You giggle, waving him off.

"Stop, you're gonna make me blush." He smiles, kissing your hand again.

"So? Is that a yes?"

You think for a moment, considering the pros and cons before you nod.

"Sure, I'll let you take me shopping." He does a fist bump and you laugh. "I will warn you though! There's not a lot of places that carry my size. I am a big girl, after all."

"I'll do some research. I'll find some places to take you, I promise."

"Break time's over!" your coworker calls.

"Time to go, handsome." He smiles at the compliment, standing up with you and opening his arms for a hug. You fall into him, arms wrapped around his torso as you snuggle into his chest. He kisses the crown of your head, smoothing his hands over your back.

"I'll pick you up at eleven on Saturday. Do you want to eat while we're out?" You hum in thought.

"Can we get takeout and bring it back to my place? And then we can watch a movie?"

"I'd love that." You get up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling away and waving.

"Bye, Guy." You wince, scrunching your face. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I'm just so used to calling you 'Guy'."

"It's okay," he waves you off. "I'm not worried about it. You can keep calling me 'Guy' if you want."

"Are you sure? I don't want to make it weird by calling you something else when I finally know your name."

"It's fine. I like it. It's my own special nickname." You giggle.

"Okay, alright. I'll alternate between the two."

"Sounds good."

"Hello? Break time is all done! Quit chit-chatting and get back over here before I get you fired!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!"

"You look cute," he says when you open the door, "as always."

"It's just leggings and a cropped sweater."

"Which is really cute. And sexy. Gives me a look at your hips."

You giggle, turning around and giving a pose.

"And a good look at my ass."

He nods, glancing over you before giving you a thumbs up.

"Nice butt."

You laugh, turning back around and grabbing his hand, going to his car.

He drives you to a shopping area, an expensive one that you've never ventured to because you knew it was out of your price range. You glance around while he parks, staying in the car while he gets out because you know he likes opening the door for you.

When he helps you out of the car, he pays the parking meter and grabs your hand, taking you along the sidewalk.

"You were right," he starts, "there's not a lot of places that have good clothes in your size, which is bullshit."

"I told you. Were you able to find anything?"

"Of course. There's a plus-size store for women down the road a little bit. We could try some other places too, if you want, but this store is specifically for plus-size women."

"Aw, look at you being all sweet and doing research on where I can get clothes. You're so romantic."

"This is just basic decency. Every guy should be treating you like this." He pauses, looking at you. "I take that back. Only I should be doing these things for you. But other guys should be doing this for their partners too."

You laugh, leaning into his arm as you walk.

"You're so cute I could die!"

"Don't do that. I want to spend a lot more time with you."

You arrive at the storefront, Mohammed opening the door for you. You enter the almost completely white interior, looking around at the array of clothing they had. Jeans and t-shirts, but also dresses, bags, and jewelry.

"Hi!" a sales clerk greets you, walking towards the two of you. "Welcome in! Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Actually—"

"Yes," Mohammed speaks up, stepping forward and gesturing towards you. "I'm looking for some clothes for my girlfriend."

"Oh! How exciting! What are you looking for?"

"Well—"

"I want some clothes that highlight her beauty." He motions his hands to outline your body. "I like her curves, and I would love some clothing that accentuates her curves. I also think she looks nice in florals and bright colors, but not so bright that she gets everyone's attention. Oh, and I would love to get some gold jewelry; I think she looks really nice in gold—"

"Mohammed!"

He stops, looking at you.

"What?"

"Can I speak to you?" you ask, an edge to your tone. He gulps, nodding, following you a few steps away from the sales clerk.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" you ask in a hushed voice. "What's wrong is you coming into the store and telling some girl how you want me to dress! Have you lost your damn mind?"

"I... I thought you wanted to go clothes shopping."

"I do, but I didn't come here for you to dictate what I should wear." You point your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look. "You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't get to tell me what to eat or where to go or what to wear. Got it?"

He swallows, nodding slow.

"I... I'm sorry. I've always done it this way in the past." You arch your brow.

"How many girls have you done this for?" He looks at the ground.

"Two."

You huff, crossing your arms.

"I have no right to be mad. We probably didn't even know each other when you did those things."

"We didn't. I wouldn't have done these things with other girls if I knew you were out there."

You sigh, glancing around the store.

"Just don't take charge of things like that when it should be my decision, okay? I'm the one who's going to be wearing the clothes, so I should be the one to choose them." He nods, still staring at the ground.

"You're right. I'm sorry." You tap your finger against your arm.

"Just don't do it again."

"I won't." He looks up at you like a sad puppy. "Are you mad at me?"

"...No. I just don't like being told what to do."

"I understand. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

You sigh, reaching up and pinching his cheek gently.

"Quit pouting. This was supposed to be fun. Just no more taking charge, okay?"

He nods, still looking sad as he leans into your hand, nuzzling your palm.

"Do you want a kiss?"

"Yes, please," he replies.

He leans down and you kiss him chastely, giving him several little pecks before pulling away and smiling.

"It's okay. Just learn from this experience."

"I will."

You grab his hand, pulling him back to the sales clerk who stops folding some clothes.

"I'm ready to shop now!"

The sales clerk is very kind to you, showing you around, recommending different outfits for you to try on. You pick and choose the outfits you'd like to try, now carrying a pile to the dressing rooms.

"Do you wanna see each one?" you ask Mohammed over your shoulder.

"If you don't mind."

You enter the dressing room, locking the door behind you. You start undressing, picking out your first outfit and putting it on. It's a pair of skinny jeans and a white blouse with puffy sleeves. You look yourself over in the mirror before leaving the dressing room, going to the sitting area where Mohammed was. He was leaning back against a couch, but he sits up when you walk out.

"What do you think?" you ask, doing a spin so he could look over all of you.

"You look nice."

"That's all? Just nice?" He shrugs, glancing away.

"Would you like me to say more?"

"Yes, please. Give me specifics or I'm just gonna put it back."

He looks you up and down, inhaling deep.

"You look like the innocent girl-next-door, the one who would bring me cookies and ask to drink a beer with me." You scrunch your face.

"I hate beer."

"I know. But that's what you look like to me." You twist your mouth in thought.

"That's definitely more detailed, but I'm not sold on the outfit. I feel like it makes my waist look big." He shrugs.

"Then put it back. Like you said, you should wear what you want, so if you don't like it, don't get it." You point at him.

"I like the support. Keep it up. And keep giving me those descriptions; they're cute to hear." He salutes you.

"Got it, boss."

You giggle, heading back to your dressing room, undressing and putting the outfit in the 'no' pile. You find another outfit, trying it on and going out to Mohammed.

"You look like the kind of girl that would flirt with me at the gym by asking to touch my muscles."

You try on another outfit.

"You look like a girl I would meet at the library who would be too shy to talk to me."

And another.

"You look like a girl who would try and sell me essential oils or herbal supplements."

His comments always made you laugh, but you didn't end up liking any of the outfits. They were all generic, boring, the kinds of clothes that didn't compliment your body, just tried to hide it. It was a shame, since Mohammed brought you all this way just to buy you clothes, and you weren't happy with anything.

You come out in your original outfit, looking glum.

"You didn't like any of them?"

"No," you mumble, shrugging. "I just didn't really enjoy anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he responds, standing up and walking towards you. "I wasn't too impressed with anything you wore either." He puts his hands on his hips, looking disappointed. "It sucks that the clothes weren't better suited toward you."

"Yeah."

The two of you stand there awkwardly.

"I feel like today was a bust," you say.

"It wasn't a total bust," he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it. "I got to see my girlfriend play dress-up which was pretty cute."

You scoff and roll your eyes.

"You're silly." He squeezes your hand again, making you look at him.

"Would you like some purses or jewelry? That stuff didn't look so bad." You glance around the store, twisting your mouth before nodding, smiling at him.

"Maybe just one purse, though. I don't need a million of them."

He smiles, leading you to the bags. You look around for a bit, picking up a bag and then opening it, turning it over before putting it back. You do this to a couple before you find one in your favorite color and a decent size. You hold it for a while, weighing it in your hands and deciding that yes, you would like this bag.

You turn to smile at Mohammed, but he's not next to you anymore. You frown, looking around the store before you see him standing over a table, looking at something. You walk over to him, glancing around his large form to see him holding a pair of lacy panties.

"Guy?"

He jolts, dropping the underwear and turning to you, covering the shelf of lingerie with his body.

"Y-You find what you want?" You arch your brow, smiling at him.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"N-Nothing."

"Ohhh, nothing, huh?" You take a step toward him, moving to the side to pick up the panties he was looking at. "This is nothing?"

He gulps, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I-I was just looking..." You hum, looking over the panties. They're white with little bows on the front and sides. You smirk at him.

"Were you thinking about me in this?" He can't look at you, glancing around the store.

"...Maybe."

"Hmm, interesting. And what exactly were you thinking about?"

"I just..." He runs a hand over his face. "I just think you would look really good in white."

"Cute and innocent, huh?" You swear you can see him blush. He nods slightly. You giggle. "Maybe I should get it, for when we finally do it."

He looks at you, eyes wide.

"I... I don't... you don't have—"

"It's fine." You nudge him with your elbow. "You're paying anyways. Think of it like a future present to yourself."

He follows you to the register, not able to look the sales clerk in the eye as he pays for your new purse and panties. You take the shopping bag from her, wishing her a good day before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the store.

"I'm so excited for this food!" you cheer as you unlock your apartment and open the door. "I haven't had Chinese food in so long."

"You like Chinese food?" Mohammed asks, following behind you into your apartment.

"Yeah, but I like all kinds of food, haha! I really like this place though because they give you so much fried tofu and it's so good."

"I see." He sets down the takeout bag on your coffee table as well as the bag from the store.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you ask, moving to the kitchen.

"What do you have?"

"Water, juice, diet soda." He hums.

"I'll take a soda."

"Okie dokie!"

You return with two cold sodas, joining him on the couch. He starts taking the food out of its bag while you turn on the TV and search for a movie to watch.

"What are you in the mood to see?" you ask him.

"Whatever you want to watch is fine."

"Well, if it's up to me, I'm gonna pick another rom-com."

"I like watching rom-coms with you," he says, pushing your food closer to you, grabbing some chopsticks and breaking them apart.

"You do?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I like to imagine us in the same scenario." You giggle.

"You're a silly goose."

"Am I your silly goose?"

"Of course." He smiles.

"That's all I care about."

You choose a movie, letting it start as you grab your food. You got General Tso's tofu with vegetables and rice, and he got orange chicken with lo mein as a side. You sit in silence as you eat, watching the movie you had seen several times before. When the food is gone, you cuddle up together, his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his chest.

"Can I say something?" you ask, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Of course."

"You've got nice boobs." He barks out a laugh, snorting and covering his mouth with his opposite hand.

"What? Boobs? What are you talking about?"

"Your pecs!" You sit up, motioning towards his chest. "They're very soft and comfortable. They're like boobs, you know?"

He puts his hands on his chest, looking down at them.

"I mean, I guess they are soft. I've never really thought about it."

"Can I touch them?" He glances at you, then shrugs.

"If you want to."

You smile, inching closer before stopping.

"Would it freak you out if I sat on your lap?" He visibly swallows but shakes his head.

"No, you can. I won't mind."

You smile again, crawling over him so that you were straddling his thighs, facing him. You rub your hands together in anticipation before reaching out, placing your hands on his pectorals.

"They're so big," you whisper before squeezing them, feeling them give under your fingers. "I told you they were like boobs."

"You seem to like them a lot."

"I do." You squeeze them again, giving them a little shake, which makes him chuckle.

"You're silly."

"You like it."

You keep massaging his muscles, squeezing and releasing them, molding them in your hands. You give him a sly grin.

"Is this turning you on?" He huffs.

"I guess it could be seen as arousing."

"So you aren't aroused?"

"I mean... you do look really hot sitting on my lap." You smirk, leaning in close to him.

"You wanna make out?" He gulps and nods.

"Yes, please."

You close the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his hungrily. He moans at the contact, his hands finding your waist and squeezing, thumbs digging into your plush stomach. You keen, molding your lips with his before opening your mouth just a bit and gliding your tongue over his lips. He's receptive to your advance, opening his mouth, his tongue meeting yours. Your mouths widen and your heads tilt in opposite directions, doing everything you can to get closer to one another. Your tongues swirl around each other, your moans drowning in your connected mouths. He pulls away suddenly, leaning his head back against the couch cushion, eyelids hanging low as he looks at you.

"Would it be okay if I touched your ass?" he asks, blinking slow. You nod quickly, gasping when you feel his large hands slide down your hips and grab your ass, pulling you closer to him.

"You're so fucking pretty," he breathes, leaning back in to kiss you. You whine, your hips moving on their own and grinding against his, making him groan. He pulls back, but keeps his mouth close to yours. "And soft. How are you so soft?"

"Squeeze my ass," you plead, planting your lips against his again. He sighs into you, his big hands squeezing as much of your ass as he can grab, pulling your hips to meet his. He helps guide your hips to grind against his, the zipper of his jeans brushing your clothed pussy. You try to manipulate yourself so that you can grind your clit down against the hard material.

"Such a good girl," he sighs, moving his lips to your neck and pressing open mouthed kisses against you. You moan, finding the perfect spot to grind down on and focusing there, moving your hips faster. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh," you whine, biting your lip as another moan slips out.

"Fuck, that's right. My sweet pretty girl. God, I love you, I love you so fucking much." You gasp, barely thinking before you reply.

"I love you too," you moan in his ear, hearing him inhale sharply. He pulls back to look at you, eyes glazed over.

"You mean it? You're not just saying it to make me feel better?" You shake your head.

"No. I mean it, Mohammed. I really do love you."

He sighs, lips crashing into yours once again. He grabs your hips, guiding them to grind down on his lap, making you moan. He's sucking on your tongue and meeting your hips with his, practically bucking up into you. Your hands glide from his cheeks to his neck and shoulders, squeezing along the way. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, moving your hips faster, humping his lap. He moans into you, mumbling praises in between kisses, but you can't make out what he's saying. Your hands plant themselves against his cheeks, holding him still so you can kiss him harder, more passionately. He moans, pulling you down against his lap, grinding you into him hard before he lets out a deep groan. You keep kissing him even as he whimpers and pushes your hips away.

"What's wrong?" you ask, pulling back to search his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, head tilted back against the couch, his chest heaving.

"I need to go," he says suddenly.

"What? Why? Are you just uncomfortable because we can stop if you want—"

"No, I just..." He runs his hands over his face, groaning in despair. "If I tell you, you're gonna laugh at me."

"What? What are you talking about? Whatever it is, I'm not gonna laugh at you, so just tell me."

He moves his fingers to peek at you with one eye. If he could blush, you imagine he'd be as red as a tomato right now.

"I'm just... really embarrassed."

"About what, honey?" He groans.

"This is the worst time to call me a pet name."

"Guy, just tell me what's going on. I'll be mad if you don't tell me."

He sighs deeply.

"I don't want you to be mad..."

"So then tell me what's going on."

He drops his hands to his sides, staring at the ceiling before glancing at you, then down at his lap. You follow his gaze to his jeans, searching before seeing a vague dark spot on his crotch.

"I... I'm sorry, I just... I got really excited and before I could do anything, it just..."

"Oh..." You hold your hands close to your chest, feeling your cheeks burn as you realize what happened. You swallow, clearing your throat. "I-It's okay! It's not your fault. These things happen."

"It's fucking embarrassing," he bemoans, turning his head to the side, staring out into the room. "I look like a fucking teenager right now."

"No you don't," you reassure, glancing back at him, seeing how upset he was. "I don't want you to be upset about this. These things happen."

"This is the first time I've lost control like this. I've never had this happen with a girl before."

"Ah... I see..." You fiddle with your hands, sitting up straight. "Well, then that just makes me feel really special! It means you like me so much that you can't even control those things around me." You wiggle off his lap, standing up in front of him. "Plus, you're not the only one who got excited. Here, look." You bend your leg and put your foot up on the couch beside him, tugging the crotch of your leggings to show the growing wet spot there. His eyes widen and he sits up, leaning forward to get a better look.

"This is because of me?"

"Of course it is. Who else could make me like this?"

His firm hand finds your thigh, rubbing your leg and sighing.

"You really don't think less of me because of it?"

"Of course not. It would be silly and mean to think that way. You're valid in how you feel and with what happened."

He nods, resting his temple against your knee, sighing.

"Now I'm gonna have to drive home with cum in my pants."

You snicker, touching his hand, making him look at you.

"We can wash them while we watch another movie. Come on. I have a pair of men's sweatpants that should fit you."

You go find your sweatpants and give them to Mohammed, letting him go to the bathroom to clean up and change. While he does so, you go to your bedroom and change your leggings and underwear, wiping yourself clean with a couple tissues. When you both return to the living room, you take both of your soiled clothes and go to the washer, throwing them in with some detergent and starting a quick cycle. You reconvene on the couch together, the movie finished at this point and the washer filling the room with noise.

"I'm really sorry," he says, hands folded in front of him.

"You have no reason to be. I enjoyed myself, and I'm glad you did too." He twiddles his thumbs, glancing at you.

"Do you really love me?" You huff, smiling.

"Yes, I do. I really love you, Mohammed."

He smiles softly, swaying his legs from side to side as he stares at his hands.

"That makes me really happy."

"I'm glad." You crawl over to him, leaning against his arm. "I like making you happy."

He turns his head to you. You stare at each other for a moment before you lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. You pull away, smiling at him.

"Wanna watch another movie while your clothes wash?"

"Sure. You pick."

You roll your eyes, grabbing the remote.

[nxzz-skz]

not quite a series but more so a prompt that you could build into whatever you want but idk js something with reader being AMAZING with kids (preferably fem reader but if you only write gn reader that’s cool too!)

like the quiet little kids love her nurturing a soft personality and hugging up on her and clinging to her

she energetic kids lover her playful attitude and she wears them out in such a gentle manner

she quiets down the rowdy kids and even the badly behaving kids are eased by her firm yet soft boundaries and her way with words

like idek what i’m looking for just ot8 x good with kids! reader

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH! 🥹💖 A reader who’s just naturally amazing with kids, and all the Stray Kids members getting absolutely weak over it?? Perfection.

I think i'll write this as a prompt-style fic where each member gets a little scenario of witnessing how great the reader is with kids! I hope this was what you were looking for! enjoy! <3

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SKZ x GOODWKIDS!READER

Bangchan :

Bang Chan had always had a knack for being good with kids, but the moment he saw you in action, he knew he had been outdone. You were swarmed by a group of hyper toddlers at a daycare, playing some silly game that had them giggling and squealing. When one tripped after laughing too hard and started sniffling, you didn't panic - you simply knelt down, moved their hair out of their face, and whispered something soft enough that Chan couldn't hear, smiling sweetly. Whatever it was, it worked instantly. The tears stopped before they were even given a chance to fall, and instead there was a small, shy smile as the kid clung to your side.

Chan felt something warm settle in his chest. It wasn’t just admiration—it was something deeper, something that made him wonder what it would be like to see you holding a child of your own one day.

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Minho :

Minho was always proud of his ability to understand kids, but even he had to admit (no matter how much he hated it) that you had an entirely different level of skill. The way you could handle the chaotic mix of screaming and giggling was almost magical. He watched as a rowdy little boy tried to push past the boundaries you’d gently set. You didn’t raise your voice, didn’t scold him harshly. Instead, you crouched to his level and spoke in a soft but firm tone, your fingers brushing his shoulder just lightly enough to ground him. Within seconds, he was nodding, suddenly obedient, as if he hadn’t just been seconds away from launching a toy across the room.

Minho shook his head, a quiet smirk playing at his lips. “Dangerous,” he murmured under his breath. “You’re dangerous, Y/N. If you keep this up, I might just fall for you.”

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Changbin :

Changbin wasn’t exactly the best with kids. He liked them well enough, but they always seemed to get bored of him too fast—or worse, they ran away. But not when you were around.

You were visiting a friend who had twin girls, both of whom were bouncing off the walls with energy. Changbin had barely survived five minutes before they started pelting him with stuffed animals, but you? You had them both in the palm of your hand. One was clinging to your arm, giggling, while the other was happily letting you braid her hair, completely ignoring the fact that she’d been sprinting around like a tornado moments before.

“You’re a wizard,” Changbin blurted out. You just laughed, reaching over to fix the bent hair clip in one twin’s hair.

“Just gotta know how to match their energy, Binnie.”

He sighed dramatically. “Marry me.”

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Hyunjin :

Hyunjin had always thought kids were cute, but he never realized how much cuter they were when they were clinging to you like baby koalas.

The two of you were at an event, and somehow, you’d ended up with a sleepy little girl curled up in your lap, her tiny arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Every time someone tried to take her from you, she only held on tighter, mumbling sleepily about how you were “comfy.”

Hyunjin swore his heart almost gave out.

Later that night, as you brushed the little girl’s hair away from her face, humming softly, he caught himself staring. And maybe, just maybe, he was thinking about how beautiful you looked holding someone so small and precious.

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Jisung :

Jisung had never seen anything like it. One second, his nephew had been screaming bloody murder, throwing an absolute tantrum over a toy, and the next? He was sitting next to you on the couch, quietly playing with the very same toy like nothing had ever happened.

Jisung leaned in, whispering, “What kind of sorcery did you just use?”

You laughed, keeping your voice quiet as you replied, “Just a little patience. And some redirection.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, then at his nephew. “You’re telling me I could’ve avoided years of chaos if I’d just… redirected?”

“Yup.”

“…I think I love you.”

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Felix :

Felix adored kids, and they adored him back—but even he had to admit, you had a way with them that was beyond special.

He watched as you played with his niece, gently bouncing her in your arms, a soft smile on your lips. The baby, who had been fussy all day, instantly settled against you, tiny fingers grasping at your sleeve. You swayed slightly, humming a tune under your breath, and Felix swore he’d never seen anything so heart-meltingly sweet in his life.

“Lix?” You turned to him, eyes bright with amusement. “You okay?”

He cleared his throat, looking away to hide the blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, just… wondering how I got so lucky.”

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Seungmin :

Seungmin didn’t think much about kids. He liked them well enough, but he’d never been one to daydream about them. That was, until he saw you with them.

You had an entire group of kids sitting in front of you, completely enthralled by the story you were telling. Even the ones who had been running wild earlier were sitting cross-legged, eyes wide with wonder.

Seungmin tilted his head, watching as you animatedly acted out a part of the story, making the kids giggle. He caught himself smiling and quickly looked away.

He didn’t need anyone knowing that, for the first time, he was thinking about what it might be like to have a family of his own one day.

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Jeongin :

Jeongin had always been the baby of the group, so seeing you take on such a nurturing role was something entirely new to him. And he was obsessed.

You had a little boy clinging to your side, refusing to let go as he peered up at you with the most adoring eyes Jeongin had ever seen.

“Noona,” the little boy whispered. “I wanna stay with you forever.”

Jeongin choked on his drink. He wasn’t sure why that sent a pang through his chest, but it did.

“Y/N,” he muttered later, as you held his hand and helped another kid cross the street safely. “You’re kind of… incredible.”

You just grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Took you long enough to notice.”

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ᯓ★ Reblogs and follows appreciated!

ᯓ★ Send an ask if there's anything you want me to write for any Enha or Skz member! (no smut)

ᯓ★ : perm taglist : @cafffeineconnoisseur @skzbiasot8 @candyquokka @idiotmaterial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @hanji-coffee @jeonginsbaee

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[sysig]

Caughtcha, gotcha, not letting go ♥ (Patreon)

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I think about g.rimmer playing soccer with the kids (and failing miserably lol) a lot 👉🏽👈🏽