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kaysungshine · 3 months ago

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Redamancy: Part II ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

(If you haven't read part one, you definitely should!)

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (bestie!jisung)

{ Genre } - NSFW; s/a/f trifecta, now friends to enemies to lovers, pining

{ Synopsis } - Things are awkward now, you're avoiding each other. In fact you distanced yourself from the entire group. What happens when Ji confronts you? What happens when Chan does a 180 and tries to befriend you? And what happens when Chan finally has you alone in his room?

{ WC } - 14.3k (I am so sorry 🥺) + 2 screenshots

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, lowkey POV switch , lots and lots of angst, eventual smut & fluff, swearing, use of babygirl, multiple nicknames for members, choking, drinking, bestie jisung crying, hyunjin being a logical romantic, y/n being a little toxic but learning from it, they're honestly both a lotta stupid, oral(f. receiving), dry humping, hickeys and bruising, questionable breath play (please research if you plan on doing this, do it safely), chans nipples are sensitive, he's just sensitive in general with y/n, fingering, needy chan, members teasing, talk of edging, talk of bdsm, these two are VOCAL as hell, so lots of moaning, groaning, whining, whimpering, mewling, and dirty talk during sex, unprotected sex (piv), pull out method (again don't do this, practise safe sex), much cringe, much awkward, but they overcome it (LMK if I forgot any, I'm sorry)

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - Alright almost a month later, and I finally finished part two!! Please don't hate meeee, I beg your forgiveness, please. It took me a while because I just couldn't stop writing and adding things. Editing also took FOREVER, because I wasn't confident that it would satisfy you guys. I'm still not sure. So I apologize if this didn't live up to your expectations, again, please be gentle with me ♡. Understand that this is only my 2nd SKZ fic, so I'm still learning about how to portray each character, and how to piece things together seamlessly!

Chan was starting to worry. It had been almost two weeks and he still hadn't seen you, nor heard from you. It wasn't like you two really spoke outside of questioning the other about Jisungs' whereabouts. There were the occasional texts, again about Jisung. He didn't know what to say to you to begin with. Apologize? He already did that, and it only seemed to make you more upset. But that was in the moment, and both your emotions were on overdrive.

The other members were starting to notice your absence, questioning Han about it. Asking if you were okay. You'd even started avoiding all the public areas at the building. No one was even sure if you were eating during the day, or there at all. You didn't go to the cafeteria, break rooms, or practise rooms. No one caught you in the lounge areas, elevator, or the stairwell. No one even saw you coming into or leaving the building. It was to the point where Hyunjin was nearly planning steakout missions with Jisung. And poor Ji. He only got to see you twice since that night. A drastic decrease in comparison to how often he usually spends time with you. Chan only knew that because he overheard him talking to Minho about it. That was all he heard before Han noticed him standing there, and left for his room, sending him a spine chilling glare along the way.

And Chan knew it really was all his fault when Minho just gave him a curiously sad look, and patted him on the shoulder. You obviously said something to Han, who said something to Minho. He wonders who else knows how bad he messed up.

He was racking his brain trying to figure out how to fix this. Never in a million years had he thought he'd actually get a chance to experience such a quintessential moment with you. He'd liked you for so long, it was starting to turn into more than that. Ever since he'd seen you helping a new trainee navigate the building, he grew interested in your kind heart first and foremost. He's sure he's been through all the emotions. Excitement, because you started hanging around with them and you fell right into the dynamic so easily. Anxiety, because he didn't know how to approach you at first. Jealousy, when Han got all of the attention from you. Anger, when he thought you and Han started dating secretly. Embarrassment, when he realized how wrong he was. Hope, when you two shared a hug, even though it was a very awkward hug. Despondent, when he still couldn't figure out how to act around you, letting whatever growing friendship you two had begun, stall. And now regretful. But not regret for kissing you, touching you, or nearly fucking you. No, regret that he had stopped.

Such a beautiful moment, where he was truly lost in bliss. And he halted it. He let his anxiety get to him, his internal conflict wouldn't shut up.

He truly was worried about the technicality of it all. The rules, the company, the media, the fans. Worst of all, you would receive the brunt of it. He didn't know how to protect you from it all. He was constantly going back and forth in his head. How could he make it work? Would you even want to make it work? Did you even like him? What did you think about him exactly?

He wasn't blind. Every once in a while he'd catch your eyes on him for a little too long. Any 'accidental' physical contact you had with him would linger. And he knew there was a certain smile you'd reserved just for him. Not to mention, you were always the first to reach out directly, and make conversation with him. He was always too afraid to. He felt like a coward. And when he finally had the courage to make a move, a bold move, a ravenous move... His ego suddenly deflated when he realized his actions could be taken the wrong way.

He panicked.

He doesn't want you to think that he just wants sex from you. That you're just a fling. A one night stand. A hookup. No he wanted to do it the right way. He wanted to take you on a date, he wanted to learn more about you, to meet your friends. He wanted you to meet his family, to meet Berry. He even fantasized about planning a special date to ask you to be his girlfriend. He fantasized about anniversaries, about holidays spent together, a life spent together. He wanted to give you the world. He fell for you hard. And in that moment, he felt like he was doing it all backwards. So he stopped. It nearly killed him, but he stopped. And he should've done anything, quite literally anything else but stop.

When he saw the spark in your eyes dimming, only to be replaced with apprehension. He immediately apologized, and spat out a quick blurb about being inappropriate.

Your entire face just sunk, and he shut down. There was nothing more he could say about it, not in that moment. And he felt even worse when you said you understood, but he didn't let it show. You didn't understand, not really. There was no way in hell you could, and he desperately wanted to just spill everything that second. But he wanted to be sober, wanted you to be sober, so instead he told you to drink water. And go to bed.

What the hell was wrong with him.

He even made sure to wake up early the next morning, anticipating to somehow get the chance to talk to you. When you came running down the hall, he was sure that it was fate. The chance that you two had alone time this early was perfect. He had hoped that this would all be sorted out. If he confessed, maybe you would too. Then he could explain last night, and you two could talk about it. And if it didn't work out like that, at the very least he could try to preserve your friendship. It would be painful to remain just friends, but he didn't want you out of his life. He couldn't imagine that. He doesn’t think he could handle that. After he greeted you, he noticed your eyes had tears in them. You were starting to hyperventilate, and tremble.

Then you were leaving.

Even though he's come up with world class lyrics, he seemed to be failing with his words lately. He didn't ask if you were okay, or what was wrong, or breach the topic that was clearly needing clarification. No, instead, he followed up with asking if you wanted breakfast.

You didn't even look at him. The tone of your voice was glacial, freezing him right to the spot. He'd never heard you sound like that. He just stood there, watching the door close. Listening to your car start, listening to you drive off. And then he stood there more, afraid to move.

When Jisung came running out 15 minutes later, he was still standing there. Han saw your things were gone, and knew that you left. Chan only decided to move when Han uttered five angry words to him.

'You really fucked up, Chan.'

He knew he did. And he didn't know where to begin to fix it...

"--Channie-hyung!"

He whipped his head up, and found Jeongin snapping his fingers in front of face, trying to get his attention.

They'd been at dance practice, taking a break. He only then realized that he'd zoned out the entire time, not eating, not grabbing water, not even sitting down. Just recounting his mistakes, and dwelling on them. Now it was time to get back to work.

Jeongin was giving him a strange look, but he didn't dare question him. In addition to messing things up with you, he'd been too on edge. Snapping at one too many people. He didn't want to risk Chan blowing up on him next.

"Where's Hannie and Hyune?" Chan questions.

"Probably still in the cafeteria..." Minho responds, giving him a knowing look.

Minho was the one keeping both him and Han in check at the moment. He felt bad for forcing him into a position like that, considering he was Chan's younger member. Even if it's just one year. Having to be a mediator daily between his two brothers, he knew it must've taken a toll on him. But he never complained, and Chan was grateful nonetheless.

Chan nodded, and went to grab water from his bag. As he was chugging it, Jisung came into the room and went straight to Minho. Furiously whispering at him, pushing his hair back. Hyunjin trailed in not long after, his eyes darted to Chan, but looked away quickly.

"What's going on?" Seungmin asked.

Minho just put his hand up to him, and the younger one scoffed. He turned to Felix, "The hyungs are acting fucking weird lately."

Felix hummed in agreement, as he continued massaging Changbin.

"Aye, I don't know what's going on either, don't group me in." Changbin grunted.

Chan hesitantly approached the bickering pair, and the look Minho now gave him was one of warning. But it was too late.

"It's all your fault." Han spat at him.

"Excuse me?" He bit back, not expecting such an outburst from him.

Hyunjin quickly jumped up to try and get between them and explain, "We saw y/n in the cafeteria toda-"

"She isn't coming over this weekend again. And she's not letting me over to hers either. She wants to be alone. I wonder why." Han interrupts, crossing his arms.

The room was eerily quiet. Everyone knew something was up, that much was obvious. The fact that Han was slightly vague though, it gives Chan the idea that the exact details remain relatively private.

"Is she still here?" Chan whispers through clenched teeth, holding fierce eye contact with Han, but he's getting more daring.

"She's about to leave. YOU," Han pointed to Chan, poking his finger right into his chest, "need to figure your shit out, and stop playing around. Fix. It."

"HAN JISUNG." Minho yells sternly, "You need to stop being so disrespectful. No matter the situation, remember who you're talking to. Let's take a walk."

He drags Han out of the room, and down the hall.

Chan was left standing there, ears burning and fists trembling at his sides. It was safe to say practice was done early for the day. So he quickly dismissed everyone, and was the first to leave.

He found himself searching for you throughout the building, with no luck. Until the elevator doors opened, he stepped on with his head hung down. So consumed in his own thoughts again, he didn't realize the other person at first.

When he lifted his head to finally greet them, he was faced with you. You refused to even look at his way, choosing to face straight forward at the exit.

"Y/n..." He managed to croak out, weakly.

Silence, still. As soon as the doors opened, you rushed out. He was stuck standing there again.

It was early Friday night, and you were already wrapped in the blankets on your bed. Aimlessly scrolling and tapping on tiktok, not even really paying attention to any of the videos.

You weren't used to spending this much time alone, not anymore. You wanted to go see the people who you realized felt like home to you, especially in this foreign country. But you didn't want to deal with the fallout of the oldest. Jiji did beg to come over... You'd been missing him so much. You'd been missing everyone so much, even your co-workers.

Most of the work you do can be done from home, on your personal pc or work laptop. The majority of your co-workers had periods of time where they wouldn't set foot into the building for weeks at a time. You knew it wouldn't be weird to them if you worked from home for a while. So you've been opting to do that, only going into the building if you absolutely needed to.

Until today that is. At nearly 4 in the morning you were cc'd on multiple emails. The constant dinging woke you up. There was a huge issue with a group's new M/V. Footage was corrupted, drafts were deleted, and it had already passed the deadline. They needed all hands on deck. You were in such a rush to come in, you didn't bring any food or drinks with you. You had arrived about an hour after receiving the email, so by the time afternoon rolled around, you needed to get something in your system. Thankfully the major issues had been solved, but now came the fine tuning. You could finish up at home, but truthfully you missed being out and about. Even if it was just at work.

You reluctantly made your way down to the cafeteria, thinking you'd be safe because you know SKZ's schedule for today. You knew they'd be in dance practice. Oh how surprised you were when Jisung nearly tackled you to the ground. He was on you as soon as you came down the stairs to the main level. Your heart hurts when you see the glossy look in his eyes, paired with sadness. Hyunjin was right next to him, trying to pry him off of you and avoid a scene. Instead you pulled him into a group hug, which he eventually accepted, wrapping his arms around the both of you.

They both badgered you with questions. Asking where you'd been, what happened, if you were mad at them. You were honest with them, and nearly broke down again. You weren't okay. You were hurt, and angry. But you assured them that you weren't angry with any of them, besides one obviously. And even though Jiji didn't bring up Chan exactly, or that night, you did. You started ranting about how stupid you felt for what happened. You've been holding it all in for the longest time, the words were rolling off your tongue effortlessly.

You could see that at first, Hyunjin was a little shocked and confused. Possibly embarrassed judging by his pink tinted cheeks. But he held your other hand, that Ji wasn't holding, supporting you either way. You couldn't begin to express your appreciation. You'd half expected all the members to know exactly what happened. You also figured they'd side with Chan, and be upset at you for cutting off all contact basically. Considering Hyunjin didn't know what happened, you knew that wasn't the case. Relief washed over you slightly.

It would be better if less people knew, less people to pick sides. In the grand scheme of things, this was only really between two people. There was no need to involve anyone else directly. On top of that, you'd never ask any of them to pick your side, not only because you know where you'd stand compared to their leader. You also wanted to avoid negative drama, and any arguments that might start with them.

Jisung begged you to come over tonight. Said that they would figure it out, that he would take you to his room even. He tried to make you laugh saying he'd even hang a sign saying 'no Chan's allowed' on his door. But you refused, not wanting to create uneasy tension, or make anyone feel uncomfortable in their own home.

He then offered to come over and have a night just the two of you, and as tempting as it was, you found yourself wanting to be alone. Your go to method for self soothing was always solitude, even if it wasn't always healthy.

You could see him deflating the more you denied his offers to spend time together. The anxiety was growing in his eyes. Knowing him, he was fearing that this was the end of your friendship. That simply could never happen.

'Give me just a few more days, and I'll be over it all. I'll be back to normal.'

That's what you told him, but you didn't even know if that was true. Regardless, you refused to lose your best friend over a situation like this.

One thing's for sure, you need to stop isolating. It wasn't helping as much as you convinced yourself it would. Just as you were debating texting Ji that you changed your mind, and to come over. Your phone chimed, and it was Jiji, he texted you first.

You threw the blankets off, opting to keep on your pajama shorts instead of changing. You slid a hoodie on over your cami though, because you refused to put a bra on.

They're your friends and you know they'd never judge you or your home. Still you tidied up the take out containers, cups, and cans left in your kitchen and living room. You folded your throw blankets, and fluffed up the pillows on your couch. You quickly picked up the clothes strewn across your apartment, and threw them into your room. You'd deal with the laundry later. Lastly, you went to take the garbage out, and as you turned to go back inside, a car drove up and Ji hopped out. He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up. He also wore sunglasses, and a black mask.

"Y/nie!" Ji said and ran up to hug you.

"Long time no see." You joke, wrapping your arms around him.

Hyunjin was also semi disguising himself, also in a hoodie. He had a baseball cap on, with his hood also up. He covered his eyes with the visor, and wore a black mask as well. He sent off the driver with a thank you and wave.

"Don't tease. It's been an excruciating amount of time. I need to recharge." He said squeezing you tighter.

"Hey y/n." Hyunjin walked up next, carrying bags full of goodies.

"Hey! Come on, give me those, let's get inside."

After you lead them in, you guys get comfy in the living room. They brought drinks, and loads of snacks and candy. In no time, you fell into that familiar and comfortable groove of your usual weekend shenanigans. Just a smaller circle this time.

"So," Ji started with his cheeks full of cheesecake, "I got in trouble with Minho."

"How?!" You giggled.

"I think Minho saved you actually, the way Chan was looking at you? He needed to get you out of there, you were NOT giving it up." Hyune said.

"Wait, what happened?" You sat up more, worried now.

"Tchh, he wouldn't have laid a finger on me." He tried to act confidently, but the way he rubbed his hands together told a different story.

"You guys fought?!" You gasped.

When Ji said nothing, and avoided your eyes, Hyune decided to speak up.

"They've been fighting. Mostly silently. You know, avoiding each other, sending the other looks and glares. But some days Hannie can't keep his mouth shut."

You gave Ji a stern look, and he just swallowed his cake.

"Anyways," Ji said, clearly trying to get the subject off of Chan, "Minho was so angry with me. I got scolded so much, I nearly cried."

"Well, yelling at Chan in front of the entire group probably wasn't the smartest thing to do..." Hyune mumbled.

Suddenly, concern washed over you. Surprisingly for Chan. You couldn't help it when the words just slipped out.

"So... how is Chan?" You attempted to sound nonchalant, stuffing your mouth with a brownie immediately afterwards.

They were both staring at you, unsure of how to answer.

"He's... tense. I get something clearly happened between you two, but I don't know exactly what's up. He seems angry, and lashes out at people verbally... But he's sad too, he's been attempting to hide away from everyone too." Hyune says.

"He has no reason to be angry." Ji snaps.

"Ji..." You say, "You should stop being so hostile to him. He didn't do anything to you..."

Damn that soft spot in your heart, even when you've been completely devastated by him, you're sitting here defending him.

He gave you the stern look now, "No. But he did something to hurt you. He's acting like a god damn fuck boy, and I always knew him to be better than that. I've never seen you like this! He made you stop visiting us, you even stopped talking to me throughout the day. He created a divide. And I'm sorry to be selfish, but whether or not it was done to me, it still affected me too!"

The anguish in his voice shot through your chest, creating that god awful sinking feeling. He was right, but still... it wasn't only Chan that held the blame. You were guilty of your own actions. You never should've pushed any of them away, especially Hanji.

"Okay, I have to ask. What the hell happened, it seems like he did something really bad." Hyunjin finally asked, worry written all over his face.

Ji refused to look up from his cheesecake, he was now just mashing it up angrily on his plate.

"I like Chan." You blurted out, "Well, I liked him. I still like him? I'm trying to get over him though. But it's proving to be more difficult than I thought, so maybe it's more than me just having a crush. I don't know. It feels ridiculous to have such big emotions towards him, considering we struggle to even hold a conversation. I know nothing substantial about him, and I'm sure it's vice-versa. But the last time I was over... We ended up... halfway hooking up in the hall? But he stopped. And he looked at me like I was crazy. Like he forgot who I was, and like... like he was disgusted that it was me he was touching." You started rambling now.

"And I mean I get it. I'm me, nothing special. We were drunk, and I'm sure with the way we were feeling, it could've just been chalked up to hormones on overdrive. But... I really thought he was reciprocating my feelings. I feel so stupid, to put that much value into sex. It's just sex. And it didn't even happen! I don't know. It just hurt, it still hurts. The regret in his eyes, that stung so bad. Because I didn't regret it, fuck, I don't regret it... I'm just so angry. I can't seem to move on from this."

They both sat listening to you, as tears began to well in your eyes. Ji pulled you into him, your head resting on his chest. Your arm rested on top of his stomach, the other sliding between his back and the couch. He was carding his fingers through your hair, and scratching your scalp lightly, like he knew you liked.

"Stop talking down on yourself. I don't like seeing you tear yourself down with lies." Ji mumbled.

"I'm sorry you're going through this... Have you two... talked at all?" Hyunjin asked.

"No. I'm trying to avoid that. I already got my heart ripped out once, I don't want to go through it again." You nearly sobbed, thinking back to how he approached you in the elevator. All he said was your name, but his voice was filled with such strong emotions that you couldn't decipher. You'd just assumed it was still regret, and ran out of there as fast as you could.

Hyunjin rubbed your knee comfortingly, "But maybe talking would help... I'm not trying to make excuses for him. He should've spoken up at that point, offered some sort of explanation or reassurance, something. That's on him for not opening his mouth, you'd obviously be confused about the whole thing. I don't know if you're interested in fixing things and talking it out, or even remaining friends with him. Regardless, I feel like some sort of closure would help you and help him. And unfortunately that does involve talking it out."

You nodded your head, "It probably would, but I don't feel like I'm ready. You didn't see his eyes. I can't handle it if he looks at me like that again." You whispered the next sentence, "I don't want anyone to look at me that way again. "

"I don't think Chan would ever be disgusted by you, I mean judging by the looks some of us have caught him giving you. He definitely finds you attractive, as he should." He smirked, making you give a breathy laugh through the tears, "Frankly, I'm shocked that you were even interested in him. I mean have you seen me?" He gestured to his face dramatically, turning from side to side and gave a few poses.

You and Ji both chuckled at him.

"Or Felix? Even Innie lately is growing more into his features! Why not one of us?!" He nudged your leg with a laugh.

"HEY! If anyone gets to date my Jagi, it's obviously me. We'll be two hot, married best friends who suffer in abstinence, because we can't bring ourselves to consummate the marriage." Ji suddenly slurs, holding onto you tighter.

Yeah, he was a little too quiet there for too long, the alcohol must've hit him.

You burst out laughing, and shove him away from you, "Gross Jiji!"

"And thank you Hyune, but I feel like that can't be true. Even if he has checked me out, that's superficial. I mean we're human, we can feel a basic level of attraction to someone we see for only 2 seconds, and never get to see them again. When I say I like him, it's more than just a physical relationship. I know it's illogical, for so many reasons. Like I said, I barely even know him. There's been no attempt to even get on the same level, like how I know the rest of you. We barely talked, we had that huge argument, and he's always kept some distance from me... there's always been a detachment. So for me to want to be with him, even after all the signs of him wanting nothing to do with me? It's insane. He could never want that, could never want me. Not beyond a quick fuck apparently. And he couldn't even go through with that..."

You know you're starting to sound repetitive and bitter, and a little pathetic. But damn it, this hurts. And these thoughts were consuming your mind in a vicious continual cycle.

Hyunjin just hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing, "You know you can't help emotions y/n, they're borderline instinctual. Especially love, and I'm not saying you're in love with him, but to care for someone? That passion? It's got to count for some kind of love. It's such a powerful feeling, we have no control over it, it's humorlessly funny like that."

You were listening to him talk intently, he was so poetic. Maybe it was the fact you were a little tipsy, but you were thinking that he should write more songs. More love songs specifically.

"If we could control it, there'd be much less heartbreak in the world I think. Unrequited love wouldn't exist... With that in mind though, there'd be a lot less love overall. I mean think about it, love almost always comes with some sort of eventual pain. There'd be many people who'd just opt out altogether..." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And never discount things as impossible, everything is possible. I'm not saying this to try to give you hope or destroy your hope. I'm not saying this to persuade you either. I'm just saying sometimes things aren't so black and white. Grey exists too, and it's a pretty beautiful shade if you ask me. I think you should talk to him about it." He finished

You nodded and offered a smile, "Maybe I should, and thank you."

You gestured for him to join you and Ji on the couch, and he rested against you. His head on your shoulder, creating a momentary cuddle pile, with you sandwiched in the middle.

You were so grateful to these boys, helping to piece you back together when you felt so broken. And over something seemingly insignificant to most. Ji was physically comforting you, and Hyune was comforting you mentally and emotionally. He just seemed to understand the world on a different level, able to see perspectives that might not always be clear to most. His mind was a beautiful place, and you felt honored that he let you in. You both formed a special bond tonight, similar yet completely different to you and Ji.

And, oh Ji... he wasn't getting off scot free.

"And you," You looked up to Ji, who was looking down at you wide eyed, "You need to apologize for your behavior with Chan. I understand you want to protect me, and I love you for that. Immensely. But he's your leader. He's done and sacrificed so much for you and your members. I'm sure no one knows what's going through his head. Stop giving him such a hard time... I'll figure out a solution with him eventually... even if it's just practicing being civil with each other. For now, try not to take things out on him. I'm sorry I stopped coming around. That fault lies completely on me, and it was petty. I won't avoid anyone anymore, so promise me you'll apologize. And that means as soon as you see him!"

He looked at you, processing your words before answering, "...fine. But seriously... don't go dark on me again, Jagiya." He said quietly.

You smiled, and snuggled up closer to him, "I won't, my poor baby."

The three of you continued chatting, catching up on all the crazy things you missed out on. Apparently a lot can happen in two weeks. You were angry you missed out on a weekend camping trip. Apparently they all had gotten so drunk, except Chan. And I.N. kept threatening to hit people with his shoe. They informed you that Chan was very quiet on the trip. He kept to himself mostly, and binge ate ice cream instead of sharing a drink with the rest.

You couldn't get your mind off Hyunjin's words. Chan has been watching you? The amount of time you spent checking him out, you'd figured if that were true you would have noticed. Maybe he was sneakier than you thought. Then again, that night your eyes did meet more than once or twice... You kept catching him looking at you. Maybe what Hyune said was true.

You were stuffed, full of candy and sweets. And also a little tipsy. It was getting late. Close to an hour later, you sent them home in a rideshare, telling them both to text you when they get home. Then you made sure to text Minho, alerting him of exactly how drunk Han was, and apologizing. You knew he'd be the one stuck taking care of him, if there's anyone who loves Ji as much as you, it's Minho. He might love him even more, having known him for much longer than you did. If the boys didn't have such a busy schedule this week, you'd be able to have Ji and Jinnie spend the night and take care of them yourself.

A weight was lifted off your shoulders, and you silently cursed yourself for hiding yourself away for so long. You always did that, and it never ended well. You really were thankful to Ji, you don't know what you'd do without him.

That night, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep quicker, easier. But even as slumber was pulling you in, Chan was still on your mind.

Chan was sitting on the couch with Minho, having been forced out of his room and pushed to socialize. He hadn't done much, he was in his thoughts again. Occasionally entertaining the others with curt responses and short conversations here and there. They seemed to just be happy with his presence, and he was thankful for that.

Jisung and Hyunjin had gone to your house, and the unknown made him feel uneasy. He was happy though, because that meant you weren't cutting everyone off, you weren't done with the entire group, you were staying in their lives.

Everyone but the man that fucked up it would seem. Still, he felt relief. He wouldn't forgive himself if he was the cause of a valuable friendship lost for everyone.

The rest of the members had gone to sleep by now, but he and Minho were waiting for the two younger members to arrive home. You had texted Minho saying they were on their way back, and to take care of them as they were drunk. Jisung especially.

He was wondering what was taking them so long, and he could tell Minho had some worry too. His leg shaking up and down. Then, as if on cue, Hyunjin bursts through the door. He has Hannie in his grasp, pulling him along as he tries to resist entering the dorm.

Hyune mumbled, "C'mon. You promised her."

He started to feel flushed, and hot. What does that mean?

He gave Hannie a push towards Chan, and Minho gave a worried look to both of them. He was expecting the worst. Jisung was staring at his feet, playing with his fingers and biting his lip.

Chan didn't think he could feel more disheartened than he already was, but it was apparently possible. Staring at Hannie in front of him, he looked so defeated. What had happened at your house?

Finally he looked up to Chan. And Chan was sure his face mirrored the younger ones anxiety.

Then Han started tearing up, "I'm sorry Channie-hyung!" He wailed, and collapsed into Chan's arms.

Chan was shocked, but he just held him close, and softly shushed him, trying to comfort him. He was trying to offer understanding and his own apologies. But Jisung ignored it babbled on, recanting his negative actions and harsh words. Chan respected the fact that he was apologizing, but he already knew why he had said the things he said. Why he had done the things he did. In fact, he held a sense of pride towards Hanji for it. It wasn't easy for him to stand up to Chan. And while, yes, he was being inappropriate from a certain viewpoint, he expected nothing less from the boy trying to protect his best friend. He couldn't be angry with him about that fact.

If anything he just felt more guilty that he had to protect you from Chan at all.

He continued slurring, stuttering, and sniffling in between talking. His words were barely coherent at this point, but Chan did catch one sentence.

"I thought I was losing her forever because of that night..."

Chan never felt more disappointed in himself, his entire being crumpled. Not only did he hurt you, he hurt Han. He's hurt the other members who grew to care for you just as much as he did. He never intended to hurt anyone, and instead he hurt many. It was all his fault.

With the help of Minho, they dragged Han to bed. Minho stayed with him, tucking him in, then getting him water and paracetamol for the morning. Minho stated he'd be spending the night in Han's room, just in case he was going to be sick. So Chan went out to check on Hyunjin, hoping he wasn't as inebriated but expecting as much. He found him in the kitchen, a bottle of water in one hand and a chip bag in the other.

"You feeling okay, Hyunjin?"

"Yeah, I didn't have as much as Han did..." He trailed off, "Neither did y/n." He was eyeing Chan as he continued, a glint in his eye while he said it.

Chan just nodded and kept silent, knowing he was trying to get at something. And it didn't feel like it was anything but teasing. Hyunjin wasn't having that though, he never did when people ignored what he had to say.

"Y/n made Han apologize you know," He started as he opened his chips, "I mean we both know he would've eventually. But she made him promise he would apologize as soon as he saw you."

That piqued his interest somewhat. He didn't view you as a mean person, but he figured you wouldn't mind seeing him distressed due to Han. In fact when he was standing in front of him, he was sure that he was about to get cussed out. By order of you, maybe. Considering Hyune said that Han promised you something. He wouldn't blame you, he deserved it after all.

But no. You were continuing to be your kind and sweet self. Even towards the person who upset you. He was confused.

"Why?" Chan finally whispered, more to himself than Hyune.

"I believe her words were, 'he's done and sacrificed so much for you' and 'no one knows what's going through his head'. So she suggested that he, well more like intimidated him, to apologize." He said while dipping his hand into the bag of chips, "It was cute, really. She was almost... protective."

With that he popped a chip in his mouth, and went off to bed, leaving Chan dumbstruck in the kitchen yet again.

His heart was thumping in his ears, unsure of how to interpret those words. But they meant something, right? Hyunjin was a tease, sure, but he must know what happened. He wasn't just teasing about this? Surely he wouldn’t go to that extent.

'No one knows what's going through his head.'

You were right. No one knows. You don't know. He needed to talk to you, he needed to let you know. He needed to let you in, even if it was hard.

Suddenly he felt hope again. It was small and shriveled, but alive. He was sure with enough care and nourishment, something precious could bloom from it.

The week flew by, and now it was nearing the weekend again. Things almost felt normal. You had returned to the office regularly, no longer working from home. Your time with Ji had gone back to normal, Jinnie often tagging along now. And the other members were glad you had started showing up again too. Everyone was excited to recommence the late night antics at their dorm tonight.

You couldn't help but notice Chan seemed relieved too, a little too relieved. Even though you clearly gave him the cold shoulder. It didn't seem to bother him. You obviously have an idea of why his attitude towards you changed drastically, but what you don't have an idea of is what his goal is. You can't necessarily say he's acting as if nothing had happened anymore, because of his new demeanors. But he still hasn't mentioned anything to you directly. His gall was starting to irritate you. His mixed signals were angering you.

If you were to think logically and assume, maybe in his head, he had been attempting some sort of effort to 'fix' things. But you tried to shut it down every single time, still unsure of his reasoning. Because he still never brought up that night, and was acting as if nothing happened at all. As if his reasoning for trying to be more friendly didn't exist. It was ridiculous.

Before that night, it was always you making sure to greet him first, you striking up small talk, you trying to crack jokes with him. All small and simple gestures, but gestures nonetheless. If only to keep things polite and civil. The tables seemed to have turned, and now he was initiating it all. In front of others you were short with him, but made sure to still be polite. There was a deeper detachment than before, and it didn't go unnoticed by the others either. Though they kept their mouths shut, only eyeing the interactions between you two.

In your head you figured that he'd get the hint and stop trying so hard at whatever it was he was trying at. You hoped it would trigger a conversation about that night finally. It got to the point where it started to create an awkward vibe in the presence of the others. But no, he still wouldn't stop. He just amped it up, and now the dynamic was once again changing.

He'd figured out the exact times you would take your breaks, and would manage to catch you before anyone else could. When you stepped off the elevator, he'd be waiting for you with a smile, and offer to buy you a snack. You'd decline, instead opting to take a small walk and stretch your legs. When you get back to your desk you'd find your favorite cookies on them, or your favorite candy bar, or your favorite drink from the vending machine. They were always wrapped nicely or bagged with a bow, with a note attached. It usually reads something like, 'don't forget to eat today! --Channie'.

You would always hand them out to your co-workers, or offer the singular items to your office bestie, before crumpling the note and throwing it out.

He'd taken to somehow always being there to hold a door open for you. Or trying to hold your bags when he caught you using the stairs instead of the elevator, actively trying to avoid him. Or when you were helping staff move the camera equipment from room to room, he'd try to take the load off your hands. It always ended in you snapping at him in a whisper. And him furrowing his brows like he didn't understand what he did wrong.

It's not that his actions were wrong, actually. They were the opposite, but why? Why was he doing all this, when he never did before. He was putting all this effort into acts of service, when all you wanted to do was talk. It was hard for you to bring it up, especially when he was acting so sweet yet pissing you off at the same time.

You should've realized it'd be hard for him to bring it up too, but you didn't. Because of that, there was the Wednesday incident.

You were heading home for the day, not having had a run in with Chan all day, and unsure how to feel about it. You were almost out the door when you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you from across the lobby, and your stomach twisted.

Chan.

"Hey! Wait!" He said with a smile, "I'll walk you to your car."

You'd had enough at that point. You rolled your eyes, and continued out the door. But you knew he'd catch up anyways.

As his pace aligned with yours, he kept talking, "Sorry I couldn't catch you at all today, it was a busy one. It still is, I think I'll be stuck in the studio all night. Han too, we finally figured out the ho--"

"Chan!" You cut him off, "Really? What makes you think I'm in the mood to talk to you? What makes you think I was waiting for your presence at all? You don't need to apologize for being busy. We're at work. We're working. It's what we do." You spat out, more abrasive than you've ever been to him.

He looked at you wide eyed, and you felt something akin to guilt pang in your chest. Immediately you ignored it, and kept walking. Only for him to latch onto your arm gently.

"I don't understand." He said, discouragement lacing his voice. "I'm trying to... trying to--"

"Trying to what? What exactly is it that you're trying to do? Because I can't figure it out. You're being so hot and cold, you went from one extreme to the other. I don't know how to decipher that."

"I just want things to go back to being okay again! I want us to be normal again." He said exasperated.

"Okay?!" You chuckled, "Normal? Our normal was borderline avoiding each other, which I am keeping up with very well, thank you. Our normal was talking to each other out of necessity. Our normal was little to no interaction, unless we're in a group. Whatever you're trying at, it's not our normal!" You shouted.

"No, what I mean is-" but you cut him off again, too heated to think logically.

"Our normal definitely didn't include me against a wall, and your fingers inside me and around my throat. THAT is not our normal. And I know it made things uncomfortable. And I know you regret it. But how can you expect things to go back to being whatever you think 'okay' is, if we haven't even talked about it?" You took a second to suck air into your lungs that seemed to be burning with rage.

"Instead you talk to me like that night never happened, and then you behave as if we've been best friends forever. You act as if that behavior, whatever your reason for it, isn't influenced by that night. You talk to me about things we never talked about before. We never caught up on how each other's day was, we never checked in with each other to make sure the other ate, we never took breaks together to get coffee or a snack and chat. You're expecting me to be the same as you, and ignore what happened. But I can't Chan, I can't do it. All I want is closure, instead it feels almost like I'm being led on. Before that happened, I was insignificant to your life. Our only connection being Ji! Then... then in an instant everything changed and then it changed again. It's confusing Chan. I'm lost here."

The tears were brimming in your eyes, and his ears were the brightest red you've ever seen. The flush went to his cheeks, and down his neck, and the grip he had on your arm was trembling. He started to open his mouth again, but you were quick to stop him. You felt like all he would give you right now is excuses, and you weren't ready to hear that.

"Please, Chan. I'm the one who's trying. I'm trying to move past it, like you seem to want to. But it's harder for me. When I feel like this, all I want to do is go home and hide. I can't do that though, not again. I'm trying to be civil. I'm trying to be polite, for the sake of everyone in our lives. But you keep pushing for some sort of friendship we never had..." You felt the dampness on your cheeks now, and before you knew it, your last sentence slipped through, "And did it ever occur to you that I wanted more than a simple friendship?"

At that he let your arm fall, and he took in a shaky breath. You figured now was the time he would say something, but he seemed frozen. Then he spoke in a soft tone.

"I'm so sorry y/n, I promise I can explain..."

That was it, your heart started to ache at the thought of his words. You weren't ready to be rejected again. So you rubbed your cheeks, one at a time, swiping the tears away and sniffling. He reached towards you again, stepping closer, but you stepped back.

"I need to go."

And you left. You got in your car, and you held it all in. The whole drive home, you refused to let yourself process any of the conversation. Which in reality was less of a conversation, and more you blowing up on Chan.

It wasn't until you stepped through your door that you sunk to the floor, back against your front door and started sobbing. You let it all out. The guilt for yelling at him. The despair over the rejection, that never left your heart. The embarrassment over the entire situation and how you were acting. Your unjust, pure anger. It all just came out in tears. You couldn't stop them, your only focus was on breathing when you could.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, hugging your knees and bawling your eyes out. But the sound of keys jingling, and the pressure of the door pushing against your back, is what snapped you out of that grief stricken daze.

"Oh, Jagiya..." You registered Hans voice as you stood up to move, you forgot you gave him keys to your place.

He scooped you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You held onto him, just as firm.

"Wait..." You were confused, Chan said they both would be late in the studio, "What are you doing here?"

He pulled back and scanned your face as you sniffled. He sighs, and leads you into your kitchen, wetting a towel and dabbing at your puffy eyes and cheeks before drying them. Once you seemed to be in a pacified state, he continued.

"An unintelligent kangaroo I happen to know, told me I should head home early and check on you. He seems to be more intelligent than I thought." He tried to make light of the situation, but guilt bubbled up in you once again.

"Wanna talk about what happened?" He offered.

And so you word vomited at him. Retelling the whole scene word for word, since the words were mostly your own. He listened, nodding when necessary, and humming in agreement to some parts. When you were done, you looked at him and waited.

He was looking down with his arms crossed, leaning against your kitchen counter. He looked deep in thought.

"Well?" You said desperately.

"Well, I think it's good one of you finally broke the ice on it. You got it off your chest, you said what you needed to. Yeah, maybe you were rude. But now the door to talk about it finally was opened. However, maybe you should've heard him out. Seems like he could barely get a word in edgewise. If I know you when you're angry, which I do, I know you never planned on letting him speak. You always have to have the last word, my little attack chihuahua."

Then he poked your forehead, "Stubborn. Defensive. Both of you."

You groaned, "I know, I know. I'm already beating myself up over it."

"When will either of you learn? You don't need to beat yourself up over it, you just need to communicate. You missed your opportunity today, but that doesn't mean all hope is lost. I know he really wants to talk to you."

"Talk again?" You scrunch your face at the idea, even while knowing it had to happen.

"Apologize, is more like it." He retorted.

Your face dropped, but you knew he was right.

"Hey, you made me do it. And it was the right thing to do. Like you said, no matter how angry I am, I needed to apologize. The same rules apply to you... Plus I've been hesitant to say this but..."

"What?"

"If he wanted to stop in the middle of it all, he had every right to. I know it hurts but, no means no, you know?"

Guilt flooded your veins yet again, are you really coming across as some sort of hostile person after facing a rejection? You suppose it was half right, which made you feel disappointed in yourself. You were no better than the men who throw tantrums when women reject them. In your mind though, you were more upset at ignoring it all.

"I know that, and currently I'm not angry because sex didn't happen. I'm angry because I don't understand why it almost happened, and I want an explanation. I just want to know why he was so cold to me the entire time before it happened, and why he tried to act like nothing happened and was friendlier to me afterwards. If he wanted to stop because he changed his mind and wasn't feeling it, that's fine. But he could've said that, I'd be hurt because I like him so much, but I'd get over it. Why I'm upset now is because I don't like the mixed signals. I don't like the unknown. I want closure."

"To get closure you have to talk to him y/n, you avoid him just as much as he used to avoid you. Now that he's stopped, you're still avoiding him. And acting kind of rude to him, we've all seen it. The fake smiles don't really hide the contempt in your eyes. You're always valid in your emotions always, but I've recently learned that it's the reaction that you are held responsible for. That goes for him too, even though his reactions may not be as hostile as yours. His reaction of ignoring it, is just as hurtful to you. But... I have a feeling if you hear him out, you'll get your closure."

Again, you knew he was right about it all. You knew you had been bitter and immature about the entire situation. You paced for a moment, thinking about how you could even apologize to him. He'd been trying to fix things, and talk just like you wanted. Why have you held on to all that anger for so long? You were in the wrong too, more so than he was. You needed to apologize quickly.

"Just take the night to process and decompress. You'll have plenty of opportunities to talk with him, especially since his mission in life lately is just that. Again, we've all noticed it, he can't seem to leave you alone."

"Do you know what he's up to?" You squint your eyes at Ji suspiciously.

"He won't tell anyone exactly why he's doing what he's doing. But I have my own speculations, which I won't be sharing because I'm not trying to meddle and put ideas in your head. After talking with him a bit tonight, I don't think he's aiming to hurt you, that's for sure."

You sighed again, and nodded.

"Now. Dinner and comfort anime? I'm thinking.... Nana?"

"God, yes please. I need a distraction from realizing how much of an asshole I was. That I was actually the one starting issues." You groan, and you both plop down the couch and start to order food.

Ji went home half an hour ago, and you're now staring at your phone. Debating the text you typed up to Chan. Your finger was hovering over the send button. It would be better to apologize in person, but you weren't sure you could face him without some sort of emotional outburst anymore. It was something you needed to work on. So maybe smoothing things over through text before you spoke with him would help.

You read it over one last time... God you sounded too professional, like you were talking to your boss. You hit send anyway, you weren't going to come up with anything better to say. You put your phone down, only for it to buzz a minute later.

Good... things are starting to get better. Or so you thought.

You didn't see him at all on Thursday, nor spoke to him. You didn't see Jiji either, but he confirmed through text that Chan had been cooped up with him in the studio. You felt bad, knowing you probably added more stress to their jobs. Especially considering Ji ditched work yesterday to comfort you.

Now it was Friday, and they were back at work in the studio again. Hyunjin was over yours because he finished up early, the both of you were just hanging out. Waiting for everyone else to get out. The nine of you were recommencing weekend get togethers.

"You should bring them food." Hyunjin, who was currently laying across your couch suggested.

He could sense your anxiety, constantly checking your phone for the time. He knew you wanted to talk to Chan, finally.

"I don't want to interrupt them, I already did that yesterday." You mumbled.

"Tch, like either of them would really view you as an interruption. They'd be elated."

"Ji? Yes, yes he would. You know things are weird between me and Chan though." You whined.

"Mmm, but this could be your chance to fix it." He suggested in a sing-song voice.

You actually debated it, but you didn't want to prolong his work tonight by stealing time for a conversation. A most likely lengthy conversation.

You looked at the clock, still debating and wondering if you had time. When you saw the time you realized it was much later than you thought.

"Shit, forget food. We're going to be late."

Hyunjin glanced at the time and nodded, "Alright, let's head to mine."

You grabbed your keys and headed for the door, Hyunjin followed and soon you both were in the car on the way to the dorm.

Once you got there, and Hyunjin let you in, you realized everyone was already here, judging by the pile of shoes. It seemed, the majority were getting cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes.

"I'm going to change too! I need to get out these jeans and into something comfier. Just make yourself at home!" He said while heading to his bedroom.

You sat on the couch and started scrolling on your phone. You were laughing at a funny video when you heard someone walking down the hall. Of course Chan is the first to finish, and he decides to join you on the couch. He takes the seat next to you, like right next to you.

"Um... Do you have to sit so close?" You say in the softest voice you could manage.

Remember. Stay level headed, no snapping, no meltdown, no blow ups. Don't yell.

He looks at you a bit defeated, and moves to the other end of the couch.

You sigh. Things were still touchy. It can't keep continuing on like this, it's too uncomfortable for you both. You have to apologize and make amends. It's now or never, but he speaks before you the chance.

"Y/n. Is now a good time to talk?" He says in a serious tone, with a stern look on his face.

You tense under his gaze, and your stomach feels like it's sinking. Was he that mad at you? You kind of understand why though.

"S-sure." You stuttered.

His eyes darkened, tongue poking his cheek. He's getting shifty now, and glancing down the hallway.

"Do you mind if we talk in private?"

You suppose it would be even more uncomfortable if someone else happened across you two discussing this. So when he stands up and heads towards his room, you follow him into it.

His room was neat. You'd never been in it before, and sure, you've seen the live streams. But it was a very different feeling, seeing it through a screen versus being inside it.

He sits on his bed, and pats the spot next to him for you to sit. You opt for leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of you. You were feeling defensive still, and didn't want to push your limits. It was his turn to sigh now, as he hung his head.

"Y/n I meant it when I said I'm really tryi--"

"Can I say something first... and then I promised I won't interrupt you again."

He just nods, with his tongue poking his cheek again. You know you're pushing his buttons, but you felt you needed to apologize before anything. Now you decided to sit next to him, twisting your torso to face him. And he did the same to face you.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted. It was incredibly childish." You sighed, "I know you had every right to change your mind, and I shouldn't have gotten so angry over it. I never meant to act so toxic towards you. I should've just accepted the fact that you wanted to stop and moved on. But the truth is... I've liked you for a while now. So when that happened, in my head, I took it as you reciprocating my feelings. Which doesn't make any sense, because you never knew of my feelings.”

Chan snorted a bit, trying to conceal a laugh.

“Then when you stopped, paired with the look on your face, it felt like you realized you made a mistake doing that with me. You looked like you were disgusted. Which I promise you, I now totally understand if that's the case. But it still hurt me... regardless, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. So again, I'm sorry. I truly am. I hope you can forgive me." You managed to get it all out clearly, with a steady tone.

He was staring at you with a thoughtful look on his face, soaking in your words, processing. Then he smirked, and that was the last thing you expected.

"I guess you were acting a little bratty." He chuckled a bit.

Then he reached for your hand, putting his on top of yours. You felt the fluttering in your stomach at his simple action. But you flipped your hand over anyways, palm up and letting him hold it.

"But y/n, you've got it all wrong, and it's partly my fault." He started, and your eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion falling on your face.

"I like you too," he squeezed your hand gently, and it was oddly comforting, "The reason I stopped is because I didn't want you to think that all I wanted from you was sex. Because I want so much more."

Were you dreaming? Is he really confessing right now? Even after how horrible you were towards him?

"I know the way I acted before doesn't exactly translate to me having feelings for you." He continued, "The truth is I was too scared to confess, until that night. The liquor gave me that extra boost of confidence, and you just... looked so beautiful. And the game we played, and catching you look my way multiple times. It almost confirmed to me that you wanted me too. Because I wanted you then and there. So when I saw you in the hallway, I thought it was my chance. But I let the lust take over."

Heat started to spread in your lower stomach at his words, and he kept going.

"I wanted to do things the proper way. I wanted to confess, and ensure that you knew I was serious about you, and not a fling. I wanted to take you out on dates, and properly ask you to be mine. I should have just said it all that night. I got scared again though, and just froze. And I know the way I was acting right after was confusing, I didn't mean to give you mixed signals."

Your head was spinning with all the information he was sharing, it truly felt like you were in a daydream. Then you found your voice again.

"It felt like you were disgusted with me." You whispered, "And then you were acting so nonchalant about the whole thing, as if it never happened. I guess I was assuming things."

He cupped your cheek, and comfortingly rubbed his thumb against it

"I could never be disgusted by you, love."

You had to resist a shiver at him calling you that pet name.

"I wanted us both to be sober too. That's why I idiotically told you to drink water, and rest. And the next morning, I was so nervous because you were rushing to leave. You had tears in your eyes, I said the first thing to pop into my head. I was hoping to talk about everything that morning. But then you walked out the door, and I felt like I had no right to stop you. Then Hannie was so mad at me, you stopped coming around. I felt like I fucked everything up and I lost all hope for a while." He sounded distraught.

“Until Hannie argued with me, yelling at me to fix things. He outright put the entire blame on me, and he did this in front of everyone. So that experience paired with your disappearance from our lives, especially Hannies life. He was so lost without you, I knew I had to try and fix it right away. I had been wanting to, I was just so unsure how to go about it. But Han's words pushed me to just go for it."

You took the opportunity to scoot closer to him, side by side now. He threw his arm around your waist.

"The elevator... ugh. I was just so hurt, I was so sure that you were going to come up with excuses, try to let me down easy. I was terrified of the rejection. I had no idea, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, we were both a little clueless about everything."

"I guess we were just a little stupid, huh?" You laughed.

He chuckled, "Just a bit."

"Then when Hyunjin happened to mention something, that's when I fully had hope again. So I tried to approach you, and be friendly, and get you snacks. I tried to help you out at work when I could. I was still unsure of how to bring it up to you." He admitted.

You felt so ashamed, "And then I went and yelled at you. I didn't even let you speak, ugh. I'm so sorry."

"Again with the apologizing," He chuckled, "I told you, we were just confused about it. There was a lot of miscommunication... when we did talk anyways."

"I know, I was feeling and throwing mixed signals. All I wanted the entire time was to talk about it. Yet, I tried to avoid you at all costs. It doesn't exactly make sense. God, I was so... so childish."

"You were feisty is what you were. And I'm sure you still are." He joked.

You giggled. It was unbelievable how understanding he was. It was more shocking how wrong you were about his feelings. You had completely misconstrued everything. Assuming the worst. You couldn't be happier about being so wrong.

Nuzzling into his chest, and wrapping your arm around his torso, had him humming contently. But then you thought of what he said earlier.

"What did Hyunjin say...?"

He cleared his throat, "When you made Hannie apologize to me, Jin said that you were acting almost protective over me. It made me think that I had a chance of proving my feelings for you."

"So that's the true reason why you were so friendly, and constantly getting me things and trying to help me out. You were lowkey trying to confess.” You looked up to him smiling.

He was blushing now, "Yeah, but I realize I was still doing things a little out of order. I'm terrible at communicating I guess."

"Channie..." you said for the first time, and his blush got deeper, "I know it means a lot to you to do things traditionally. And I appreciate the effort you put in to accomplish that. But to me, it doesn't matter as much. We could've figured everything out afterwards." You said softly, and he was smiling down at you.

"I guess I should catch up to the modern age." He joked.

"Never! You prove that chivalry isn't dead. I love that you're a romanticist. Don't change." You laughed, "And... the communication problems? That's something we can both work on. I need to fix that in me too."

You felt him tense, and he caught your chin between his fingers, pushing you to look up at him further. You felt the warmth of his breathing spread across your face, he had that same look on his face as when he leant in to kiss you that night. Wetness was now pooling in your panties, and you had to resist clenching your thighs together. He was so in tune with your body language, and he caught it last time. You're sure he would notice again. You didn't want him to think you were rushing him into sex.

"So... does that mean you want to give us a go?" He was so serious when he said it, you could see the glint of excitement in his eyes though.

"Of course, it's a dream come true." You smiled at him.

He was quick to bring his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly, softly. You sighed into the kiss, and felt like you were melting into him as you turned your body towards him more. You brought your hands up, one resting on the side of his neck, the other on his shoulder. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, and combed his fingers into your curls.

He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, licking your bottom lip. Your tongue met his, and soon you were wrestling against his for dominance. He started leaning you back against his bed, adjusting himself on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. His hands roamed your body and he never broke away from your lips. You were nearly panting into his mouth, giving up and allowing him to explore your mouth. Your hands clutching his shirt like it would save you. The kiss was messy, downright sloppy, and you loved it. You were both desperate for this.

You wanted to imprint his touch into your mind. Every area he grazed made you feel tingly all over. Your entire body was oversensitive for him. You'd never felt like this with anyone else.

Then he was playing with the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach. You mewled at that, and he groaned. It was so high pitched it nearly sounded like a whimper.

"Please... I still want you." He whispered against your lips.

You were breathing heavy, chest heaving. You couldn't help it when your hips bucked up, letting yourself get consumed by lust, "Yes, god yes. I need you."

He re-positioned himself, lowering his body onto yours and letting his hips grind into you. You could feel his length against you through his shorts, and you whined. Even this felt like ecstasy, he almost made you cum last time from dry humping. He was so skilled at making sure you got friction exactly where you needed it. It was driving you feral.

His lips attached to your neck, kissing, sucking, and biting his way down to your chest. His hand groped your breast, kneading it. Then he rolled over, flipping your position, so you were on top of him. It was your turn to grind your hips, your core rubbing directly on his erection. He threw his head back, mouth hanging open. His hands gripped your waist, helping you move against him.

Things felt less rushed this time around. It felt like all time stopped, and the only thing that existed in the world was you and him. You wanted to be lost in this passion with him forever. The high he made you feel, made your head all hazy with desire.

"Fuck..." He whispered as he looked up at you, seeing how fucked out you looked already.

His hands slipped underneath your shirt, pulling it up. You took the hint and ripped it off, unclasping your bra afterwards.

You had to admit, you felt your face flush again, at being exposed to him. But he soon wiped the thought from your mind, leaning up and placing soft kisses all over your chest. He kissed up to your collar bones, he kissed each mound, kissed in between them, he even kissed your nipples so gently.

You were learning he was a tease.

One hand was kneading your breast again, the other braced against your back. Then his lips closed around one of your nipples, and his hot tongue swirled around it. His hand now playing with the other. Pinching, flicking, and rubbing. He braced the hand against your back, pushing you into him more, while he sucked your nipple harshly. You whimpered, and your hips started rolling against him again.

He pulled off with a pop, and mumbled "I could worship these tits love, all of you is so gorgeous."

His words made you blush, and then he pushed you onto your back again. He clearly wasn't scared to manhandle you at all. He was quickly unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans.

"Need to tase you..." He mumbled again.

You liked needy Chan, somehow he kept the perfect balance of dominant yet deprived for you. He positioned himself between your legs, kissing and licking every inch of them. He held your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart to expose your panties. He placed a kiss on your clothed center, and groaned at the wet spot that was already there. His tongue peeked out, and he licked a slow stripe up, making your underwear wetter. Your eyes rolled back and you sighed, craving more.

And did you mention that you loved how vocal he was?

He licked his lips as he glanced up at you, mumbling "Taste so good, 'M gonna be addicted. Wanna be between your thighs all the time."

Then he spoke more clearly, with a smirk on his face "You're going to sit on my face one day. I want you to ride it."

You whined at the thought, and pushed your hips up, searching for friction. He took the opportunity to slide your panties to the side, and his tongue slid between your folds immediately.

You moaned loudly as his tongue flicked against your clit. You felt like you were on fire, yet shivering at the goosebumps spreading all over your body. Your hand reached down to his hair, and he groaned again, making his lips vibrate against you.

"Mmm... fuck." You moaned as you rocked your hips against his face.

He has no objections, but he momentarily paused to rip your panties off. Then he wraps his arms around each thigh, forcing you to open wider for him. He buried his face in you, letting his tongue dip into your entrance.

You gasped at the intrusion, your hand squeezing tighter into his hair. It had you nearly wailing. You'd never felt that before, and you think you could cum from it.

When his lips closed around your clit, he sucked. You were panting, feeling that familiar pleasure slowly coil in your lower abdomen.

He wasn't shy at all about devouring you, making slurping and squelching sounds. He brought his hand to your entrance, and slipped two fingers inside. You moaned, and he let you adjust before curling his fingers and pumping into you. Your orgasm is building faster now.

Writhing on the bed, and clutching his sheets, he did his best to keep you still. You were a moaning and whining mess. You couldn't help but be loud. His hand moved faster, as the tip of his tongue flicked at your clit. It was all too much as you felt your climax wash over your. You let out a desperate groan, your legs quivering as his hand squeezed your thigh tighter, preventing you from squeezing your legs shut.

Once you whimpered at the overstimulation, he stopped. Giving your clit one last kiss, sending one last shiver up your spine. Your chest was heaving, you were out of breath. He climbed up your body, wiping your juices and his saliva off his chin with the back of his hand. When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on him, and you hummed as you licked against his tongue.

He kept kissing you, and you tugged at his shirt, "No fair, I'm completely naked and you're fully dressed."

He chuckled and sat up, pulling his shirt off. You reached up to feel his abs, fingers tracing between each muscle. You moved up to his pecks, and when your palm grazed against his nipple, he hissed. Picking up on it, it was your turn to kiss his chest, making sure to pay special attention to his nipples. Your tongue lapping at them, and then sucking them.

He quickly turned into a whining mess. His voice making you grow wetter, and clenching around nothing.

You really loved how vocal he was.

He made quick work of pulling his pants and boxers off, and leaned back down to kiss you. The pressure of his weight on top of you was comforting, and you placed your arms on his shoulders. His cock twitched against your core, and you were mewling again.

He smiled against your lips and whispered, "Is my love needy right now?"

Then his fingers wrapped around your neck, and you bit your lip. Your hand was now on top of his, making him squeeze lightly, and you whined.

"Does my baby girl want to be choked right now?”

"Chan if you don't fuck me right now, I swear I'll--"

Before you could finish, he was gripping the base of his member. Sliding into you at a steady pace, and you gasped. He lets you adjust again. The length surprised you, and his girth stretched you deliciously. You always knew this man was hung.

His hand never left your throat, and he did add more pressure around it. But you still desperately needed more.

He must've read your mind, or at least your face, "You're really into breathplay huh? Need it harder?"

Your mind was clouded in pleasure, you felt so full having him inside you. His hand on your throat only heightens it. So you nodded as best you could.

"Remember, I need the words baby girl."

"Yes, yes, fuck yes." You moaned.

He nearly growled as he pulled out and snapped his hips into you sharply. He kept pumping into you. Rolling his hips into you roughly, skin slapping against skin. His hand squeezed your throat tightly, cutting off all oxygen and then easing up, so you could get a proper breath in. Everything felt blissful, consumed by need.

Your hips started rolling, meeting each of his thrusts. You were focused on making sure you both got off.

He had his eyes closed, face scrunched in concentration and panting, "Shit, you're so wet love. So tight, gonna cum too fast."

You clenched around him hearing that, and let out another whimper. You felt it building up in you again. His pace became uneven, and you knew he was nearing his climax.

"Please..." he begged with a strangled whine, "Cum with me, can't hold on much longer."

"Channie... so close, just a little more." You panted back.

He removed his hand from around your neck and down to your clit, rubbing quickly in little circles. That was all you needed to let go, becoming a moaning and quivering mess. Your walls were clenching around him again, as you rode out your orgasm.

He groans, hips stuttering before he pulls out of you. Giving himself a few pumps, he let out a loud and strangled cry as he finished. He was spurting ropes of cum all over your stomach, only slowing when the last of it was dripping down his cock and onto his fingers.

It was so sensual, you grabbed his hand and sucked them into your mouth. Making sure to lick them clean, keeping eye contact with him. His lips parted and he was looking at you so affectionately. When you finally popped them out of your mouth, he immediately caressed your face.

"How are you so perfect?" He murmured.

He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, and you slowly moved yours with his. This kiss was different, less desperate and more so savoring the moment. You felt lost in him. Nothing else mattered right now but you and him, the rest of the world melted away. You two were in your own bubble, and you couldn't be happier.

When he pulled away, he spoke "That was amazing, my love."

"It was." You giggled.

"I'm sorry it was a little rushed, I was craving you so bad." He said as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, a little embarrassed.

Your fingers brushed through his hair. He was right, it was rushed on both ends. You both were a little clumsy, figuring out each other's bodies for the first time. But that doesn't mean the sex was horrible, he made you cum twice.

"We'll have plenty of chances to take our time with each other. I think after everything, we were both hopelessly desperate for each other, and like you said. It was amazing Channie."

"I like hearing Channie coming from you, as different as it is."

"Mmmm, I have to think of another pet name. You claimed 'love' already."

He just chuckled, "You can call me whatever you want, Channie, love, Jagi. I don't mind."

"I think Ji would keel over if I called you Jagi instead of him." You giggled.

"Hannie can deal with it, he's not the only man in your life that's close to you anymore."

Chan got up to get you a towel, and cleaned you up.

You felt satisfied, laying down facing each other, and still embracing.

"So, about the other chances you mentioned. Maybe we can try out the edging you like so much. And all it takes for me to truly dom you is flipping a switch in my head and not holding back. I'm just not sure you can handle it."

"I can handle it, I'll be your perfect little sub." You snuggle closer to him.

"Hmmm, why do I doubt that for some reason. We already know how bratty you are."

"That just means more punishments for me, which I'm sure we'll both love."

"Is that so?" He started leaning in to kiss you.

Suddenly there was banging on the door.

"Are you two finished? I'm assuming your finished since all the noise stopped." Hanji yelled.

You looked wide eyed at Chan and he had a smug smile on his face.

"We'd like you to join us, we're playing cards against humanity tonight. Besides it's my time with my Jagi again, I'd like to be able to see you." Jiji shouted through the door.

You both scrambled to dress yourselves. He gave you his t-shirt, and some sweats. Slipping on nearly the same outfit, you opened the door to a pouting Ji. His face slowly transformed into a smirk as he looked you up and down.

"Better fix your sex hair babes, although I guess there’s no hiding your hickies and bruises though." He leaned in and whispered, "I didn't know you liked it that rough, his fingers are clear as day on your neck. You nympho." He poked your tummy repeatedly.

You nudged him and rolled your eyes, "Shut up."

Channie came up behind you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a back hug. Just like that, Ji was back to pouting.

"This means I have to share my cuddle time, ugh." He whined.

Chan just patted the top of his head, laughing, "You'll get used to it."

"Hmph. I'm not going to stop calling her Jagi or babe or any other pet names. I was here first!" He stated.

Chan just chuckled, "I wouldn't expect you to Hannie."

He just turned around, still pouting, and headed back to the living room. You and Channie followed behind him, hand in hand. Eyes glued to each other, and smiling.

"Oh great, we have to deal with this now, on top of you and Han overdosing us with PDA?" Seungmin complained.

"I just knew something was up with you two, it's about time you fixed it." Innie commented.

"Yeah, and by the sound of it. Making up went really well." Changbin jokes, then his eyes wander to your neck, "You know, for as much noise you two were making, I'd never expect you'd be choking her in there."

You blushed intensely, and Channie cleared his throat, smiling, and scratching the back of his head. The group laughed, and you and Chan took your seats. Which was him sitting in the chair as usual, and you sitting in his lap.

"God, this is going to take getting used to." Hyunjin said with a smirk.

"You act like you didn't partially help orchestrate this whole thing." Jiji teased.

"What?!" Felix snapped, "And you didn't tell me?" Now he was pouting.

"It wasn't my business to tell. Besides, I only nudged them a little bit to communicate. They both seriously lack in that area." Hyune responded.

"Mmhm, I have to agree with that." Minho chimed in with a smug smile.

"Alright, alright. Enough poking fun at us. All that matters is that things can go back to normal." Chan said.

You faced him, "I still don't think this was our normal before, but it definitely can be our new normal now."

He smiled and gave you a peck on the lips, to which the entire room started gagging, and acting disgusted. They got distracted while setting up the card game, Chan whispered something in your ear.

"I know we've been doing things abnormally, and this might be a little fast. And we also have a lot more to talk about, but... Will you be mine?"

You break out into a huge smile, and press your lips to his ear, "Of course Channie. I'd love nothing more than to be your girlfriend."

He turned his head to kiss you again, except this time it wasn't a peck. Your lips moved in sync for a few seconds, and everyone once again noticed.

"Yeah, you were right Hyune. This is going to take A LOT of getting used to." Felix agreed.

"I don't think I've ever seen Chan-hyung like this before... It's a little weird." Innie chimed in.

"That's because he hasn't done anything like this before. Outright claiming someone? That's new territory for him." Minho said.

"No wonder it was so hard for him to pursue y/n." Seungmin said, "Although I really did have a feeling it was going to be Hannie that ended up with her."

Ji made a face, "Never. Our love isn't romantic, even though we both love skinship."

They were interrupted by the wet sounds of you both still making out.

Ji started pouting again, shouting, "Yah! Are we going to play or what? Surely you can both hold off until later, sheesh."

You pulled away and you and Channie laughed.

"Alright, let's play!" You said excitedly.

Maybe this was new territory for you, but you felt comfortable in it already. You were so glad that you and Channie were able to find solace in each other. Maybe you guys weren't quite in love yet, but you were elated that he returned your feelings fully.

This is the normal that Chan was talking about, and you wouldn't dream of having it any other way.

Tag List: @jeonginsleftcheek @solandiszale @schniti-is-in-the-house @helloimacalumgirl @jagibangbangchan

@jupire @juwire @jennibahng @emonatural191 @sailor--sun

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But again, please be gentle in your criticism

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yolli-es · 9 days ago

Note

Could you possibly write fluff alphabet prompts for the lovely girl Jinx :3

Fluff Alphabet Jinx ❣️

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2 (if you haven't watched it yet), mention of violent acts, psychological problems.

My heart is broken, so I hope this helps heal yours.. Perhaps I misunderstood the request and/or points.

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Touch, touch, touch.

Does this all the time and expects the same from you. Jinx can never help it, she won't even try. Every time you're lost in thought, she'll take your hand and play with your fingers. Gently, lightly, and casually. You won't even notice, but she can do it for hours.

Jinx is very attached to you and never leaves you for more than an hour unless absolutely necessary.

Just let her do it.

Best friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

Spontaneous. She often said something strange, and after looking at your face, she laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. She came up with strange, sometimes too childish games to have fun and too dangerous to strengthen your relationship.

Like your first meeting. Don't be surprised if you bumped into her or she suddenly tried to steal something from you and then you became friends. This is Jinx.

You quickly got used to it.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Hug, hug, hug.

Jinx has received many hugs in her life, but never one that was so meaningful and necessary to her. Vi and Silco were important to her, but you have a deeper connection with her. Every hug reminds her that she is not just existing. It gives her strength and faith in her better side.

If she could, she would do it forever. It doesn't matter how, gently or harshly, with love or joy. The main thing is that it's you.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

Surprisingly, Jinx is good at cooking. But only because she is picky. Yes, Zaun is not a buffet, but she knows exactly what she wants and how she will get it. She will not let you eat something garbage.

And yet, she just doesn't see the point in cleaning. Haven't you seen her lair?

"If it's dusty, you don't need it; what's the problem, toots?"

Ending: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

No way.

It would be the end of the world. Break up with you after everything she's been through? Forget it. She'll do anything, from murder to rebuilding her personality. Yes, Jinx will resist and say that she won't do it. But she will. She's too scared. You've done so much for her, and she lives and breathes with you.

If you leave her, she will not leave you alone. Jinx will follow you in the shadows. It is unlikely that you will ever know that she is there, unless Jinx herself wants you to know. She will definitely find a way to come back to you, and believe me, you simply will not have a choice.

In case of an unforeseen situation... she definitely won't survive without someone's support.

Fiance(e): How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

Never really thought about it. There's too much going on in her life to think about something as simple and mundane as a wedding.

But that doesn't mean she'll never think about it.

It will be like a sudden walk in Zaun when she suddenly sees a married couple and it dawns on her. Most likely, she will propose to you almost immediately after he thinks about it.

Say yes, and she will throw you the most lavish wedding. In her style, of course.

Say no, and she'll just wait before trying again.

Gentle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jinx gives you all the tenderness that is left in her. Every time she tries to be more careful with you, especially when she tries to make it pleasant for you. Hugs, kisses, and games, in most cases, will take place in playful and caring touches.

But emotions are too much. Jinx can't control them, even though she tries. She has a hard time talking about her feelings, especially when they don't match yours. This only makes things worse and makes her feel misunderstand. So in her vulnerable moments, Jinx tries to move away from you, just to avoid scaring you and driving you both into a corner of fear and mistrust.

She's trying; give her a chance and time. You are a good influence on her.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Jinx hugs you often, and yes, it's the best way to say, "I'm here, and I love you." In most cases, it will do it too tightly; it is quite strong.

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

It's complicated. Even when Jinx confessed to you, she couldn't say it without stumbling and biting her lips.

It didn't get any easier with time. It's easier for her to show with actions than to say. She'll make, listen, steal, sew, cook, and anything but say? Oh... And yet, Jinx knows better than anyone how sometimes it is important to hear confirmation that you are loved.

And she will say it, definitely.

Jealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

It's so bad that she saw the enemy even in her sister. Just once, it was awkward, but still.

Jinx will definitely know if someone likes you. It must be her magic ability. Then she will be even closer, more aggressive, and talkative. She will lose her shyness even if you don't like it. Jinx might show you off her new gadgets with a hint of "Oh, I have no one to test this on." If the person doesn't understand... well, I think he did.

It's not you; no, she's absolutely certain of your loyalty. The problem is in this world and... in her. She's still Jinx, isn't she?

Kisses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

She kisses wherever and whenever she wants. Why should she choose or be shy?

Most of the time, these are innocent and quick pecks on the cheek, lips, and neck. Sometimes, you'll get a barrage of quick kisses, so attack back!

The rest of the time, Jinx does not skimp on long and intense kisses. She will always make the first "trial" kiss as if inviting you to continue and giving you the opportunity to say no. She won't object the rest of the time either, but then you will definitely not get rid of her teasing and sad face for the rest of the day.

Everything she does to you, Jinx expects to get in return.

Little ones: How are they around children?

Doesn't notice them most of the time. It's understandable; most of the children here are doomed.

And yet, if the child becomes a little closer to her than a stranger and Jinx sees the child's sincere affection, it will mean that now this is your child. It does not matter whether he has parents or some problems with anything; now this is your child, and Jinx loves him.

In most cases, she will act playfully with the child, playing out the older sister or "kind" parent. But that doesn't mean she won't eliminate any possible threat to the child. Don't underestimate her.

Morning: How are mornings spent with them?

When she wakes up before you, she lies still while you sleep. Maybe she's just thinking about something, or maybe she might be staring right at you. Maybe she's staring at you while she's thinking about something? As soon as she realizes you're about to wake up, she'll wake you up looking like she just got up and is bored.

When you wake up first, it's all up to you. Watch her, and Jinx will definitely be embarrassed about it after waking up. Wake her up, and Jinx will make a displeased face, only to relax you and attack you with a pillow from behind. Fall asleep again, and Jinx will beat you to it.

It won't be boring.

Night: How are nights spent with them?

Depends on Jinx's condition.

If she was even a little restless, the night would be the same. Jinx would wake up and unwittingly wake you. She's sorry; she didn't mean to.

If everything is fine, she sleeps like a hibernating bear. It seems as if even a nuclear explosion could not wake her up.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Talking about your feelings is a real problem for Jinx, let alone her past. Most likely, you already know a lot thanks to rumors in the city. Jinx will not comment on this in any way.

However, time goes by, and you have already been there more than once in the shittiest moments, opened your soul to her in the most difficult moments, and saved her in the most dangerous. The truth about her is the least she owes you.

Jinx starts slowly, from afar, and as if it's not about her at all. And then the story will get deeper and deeper, and you'll see not Jinx but Powder. After that, you'll be truly close.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

Very easy. A few careless words, and she's furious. Don't worry, Jinx won't hurt you. But she and the others may well suffer. She knows that you didn't wish her any harm, but she can't restrain herself.

Quizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jinx knows and remembers absolutely everything. For her, every little thing about you is important and valuable. She never knows where and why it might be useful to her, but she is sure that this is important knowledge. Secrets that she will not share.

Remember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

Every moment when she thinks, "I knew I was right about you."

One of those favorite moments was at the very beginning of your relationship. Some bastards were hunting her down and were damn close to catching her. When she was cornered, you showed up as their partner. You gloated and laughed, shook their hands, and even pointed a gun at Jinx. And all this in order to destroy these bastards. It was cruel, dirty, and instructive.

No more such gangs were formed.

She loves you so much.

Security: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

You won't find a more reliable partner. Jinx will save you at any cost; she is simply unstoppable. She has no fear and no limits when it comes to safety. Zaun does not forgive mistakes.

However, Jinx has never asked and will never ask you for protection. You have saved her many times, and yet she is still convinced that you are fragile and definitely cannot cope on your own.

When it comes to a real fight, Jinx will forget about all the nonsense.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Jinx will pretend that all this is nonsense and that she doesn't care about such trivial things. And then she will invest herself in it as if it is the last thing she will do in her life.

Ugly: What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Blow up anything and anyone.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care.

Of course, she won’t let herself get to the point of becoming a lump of dirt, but she’s indifferent to anything that doesn’t concern hygiene.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

Yes, and this is actually tragic.

Jinx tends to get attached to someone and build a very strong bond with them. When you're not around, she's not complete; everything seems to fall out of her hands. Everything that was perfect before doesn't work, and things that Jinx was confident in before are called into question.

She just needs to know how you'll react to anything before making any decisions; Jinx feels empty.

Xtra: A random headcanon for them.

You will definitely get small matching tattoos on your wrists, neck, or stomach. Jinx will be in the most visible place of your bodies.

She lets you paint her bombs and guns. It's personal to her.

Yuck: What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

Lies. In any form.

Jinx can't trust herself, so what's she supposed to do if she can't trust you? Even if it's a small thing, don't lie to her. It could become too big.

Zzz: What is a sleep habits of theirs?

Lie down on her, or Jinx will throw all her limbs at you. Don't even think about dodging or moving away; she will grab you tighter.

It helps her feel calmer.

Jinx loves you.

Thank you.

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #arcane jinx #arcane jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx x fem!reader #arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #jinx league of legends #jinx alphabet

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readychilledwine · 7 months ago

Text

Pieces of You pt 3

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings - self doubt, slight manipulation, discussion of moving forward after the death of a spouse, hurt people hurting people, HOFAS spoilers *slightly* (a lot of us had this theory to begin with and I just played with it to fit this)

A/n - It can only be uphill from here, right?.. Special thank you to @honeybeefae and @thehighladywrites for helping me think through how quickly I should let reader and Rhys move on, and for convincing me that I should continue writing this. (Ps friends - sorry I can't tag you. I evidently hit the max tag amount with my taglists.)

✨️ Pieces of You Masterlist ✨️

The 3 month milestone had changed your and Morwenna's lives forever. Rhys had finally convinced you to move into one of his homes. He was insistently whispering to you over and over that the small cabin wasn't going to work anymore, that Cassian and Azriel barely fit inside it, that once his Little Mor and sweet Nyx began to move you four would need more space.

It had been also heartbreaking, entering the home Feyre had crafted, each room so individually thought of for who it was intended to belong to. Above all else, though, it had been lonely.

It wasn't your home. It wasn't the finely crafted wooden arches your mate had assembled by hand. It wasn't the rooms you had spent hours picking colors for. It wasn't cozy. That lack of security and warmth was why you were once again up at 3am. Despite the babies now sleeping for longer chunks of time, you never did. Regardless of if it was a night Rhysand spent at your side or one he spent tucked into the room he had shared with Feyre.

You leaned your head back against the exterior of the home, looking up at the glittering sky, and it finally happened.

3 months of mourning in silence. 3 months of screaming into your pillow. 3 months of stress, of anger, of overflowing love, 3 months of feeling like a shell of the female you were, of feeling as though your body was no longer yours, it crashed into you like a tidal wave. And it swept and destroyed everything in its path.

Rhysand shot awake in bed, feeling something was off. His chest ached, begging him to get up, to move, to search. He pulled on pants, glancing at Nyx and Morwenna sleeping peacefully, but you, once again, had not come to the room. He waited for the wraith to appear, feeling her just moments after he called. “Is it y/n,” Nuala nodded to the question, moving to admire the sleeping babes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. She is mourning. That is her right.”

Rhys sighed, moving to your room without hesitation. He had hoped getting you out of that house would help. He had hoped the luxury he could offer you would have helped. He knocked on the door, listening for the broken come in that followed. “Why haven't you come to bed?” You were taken back by the question, taken back by him holding that perfectly tanned hand out. “Come to bed. Let me hold you until those sorrows melt away for the night.”

He knew you didn't feel it. That soft string that had made him scream, made him question all he knew about love and life. Part of him hoped you never did. Part of him hoped he would never have to explain to his family how it had taken him a miniscule 3 month period to fall in love with you and for a Mother given mating bond to snap. Part of him hoped he would never have to experience losing you, to add you to his list of things he would bury too deeply to properly mourn.

“I was unsure if I was wanted there.” That hand reached for yours, clasping it. He was so warm. Always so warm. You could bask in his warmth like he was the sun if given the chance. You shook the feeling mentally, though. “It is-”

“Our room,” he finished softly. “It is our room. Where our children are sleeping. Come to bed.”

Morning came much too soon for Rhysand. It had come much too soon for you as well. You took both of the babes, laughing as they spoke to each other in a language only they knew. They had begun taking more interest in each other, in toys, in the world. They were making life the greatest adventure, even if a lingering pain came from both of you seeing them smile so brightly.

It happened at the worst possible time. You were holding Nyx, forearm under his little tummy and letting “fly” as he worked so very hard to stretch his growing wings. Rhysand was watching you from the doorway, Morwenna on his hip as she looked up at him. Her thoughts were jumbled baby speak, all so happy. Nyx's were elated and fast. When you looked to the doorway, your wide smile fell as that string finished itself and settled deep into your chest.

Rhysand had never watched someone's mental walls fall as quickly as yours did. The silence in the room almost made the giggles of the two unknowing parties fade to background noise. “I was shocked too, darling. It's okay.”

Rhysand had dinner without you that night. He flew to the House of Wind with Nyx to eat with the Inner Circle. He wanted to give you time. He remembered the moment Azriel and Nesta came home, questioning their bonds after exploring those damned caves with the Quinlan girl and learning how the Cauldron had been corrupted. He knew you needed to process. He had too after all.

He took his seat trying to ignore the one that sat empty next to him. Everynight a plate was still sitting there. Even when you came, that chair sat empty, plate untouched. It was a screaming sign that the Inner Circle had not moved in. That they may never move on.

“It just makes the two mates theory make more sense,” Cassian and Amren were deep in a debate again. “If the Daglan, asteri, whatever the fuck we want to call them, did something to the Cauldron to ensure the mating bonds were taken over by it's creation for breeding purposes, then the existence of a Mother Blessed Bond must also be there.”

Amren sighed, “So which do you two have then?” Nesta stiffened at the question. “A Mother Blessed Bond is meant to be true love. It's who we are technically meant to find as a soul mate. A Cauldron made Bond is evidently strictly for breeding. Which do you two share?”

The table hushed. It was a valid question and point. “To continue,” Amren took a drink from her glass before setting it down with a gentle click. “If we come out and tell other courts about this, how many other fae will begin to question their bonds? Kallias and Vivienne? Tamlin and Briar? Helion and Saraya? Lucien and Elain? How do we even begin to prove which bond is which? Does it mean they love that mate less? Rhysand would not have loved Feyre less regardless of the bond type. He will never remarry. Never move on.”

Azriel flicked his eyes to Rhysand. He knew about the bond Rhysand shared with you. He had given Rhysand his blessing to move on and pursue. He had asked his brother to find happiness again. He watched the words land on Rhysand's features, watched his eyes dull.

“If Rhysand did find a new mate,” Azriel spoke softly. “We would all support him moving forward with the bond.”

Nesta scoffed from next to Cassian. “Imagine being that poor female. Living in the shoes of Feyre Cursebreaker. No one could compare.”

But you did, didn't you? Rhysand's grip on his thigh tightened before relaxing. You were just as special, as kind, as loving. You were beautiful. Gods knew you were absolutely beautiful. You were selfless.

“I wouldn't want to try to sit in her place. I would reject the bond,” Mor sipped her wine, leaned back with one arm across her stomach.

Cassian and Azriel both looked to where Rhysand was dead silent. “I need to take Nyx home. He's getting hungry. I'll be right back.”

When Rhysand came back to the House of Wind without his son, he had no intentions of coming back to you that night. So, he never did.

3 awkward weeks passed between you and Rhysand. 3 absolutely strange weeks of either heated kisses and touches or nothing. Not even a good morning. You sighed as you laid Morwenna and Nyx down in the nursery before taking the few strides to Rhysand's office.

He was avoiding you, and it hurt. It hurt knowing your mate, this beautiful unasked for second chance was avoiding you. He was hunched over his desk, reading over some papers and signing a few. “Are we going to talk about why you are avoiding me?”

“I am not avoiding you. I am busy.”

“Yes, busy avoiding me.” You sat across from him, feeling so cold and informal. It was as if you were nothing more than his employee. “Our children are asleep. We should talk about this while we can. I deserve to know if I did something wrong.”

He didn't even look up at you as he replied. “You didn't do anything wrong. As I said, I am busy.” This wasn't the voice of the male who coaxed you to sleep. The one who whispered his dreams to you. “You can go.”

The dismissal made the bond go taunt, and when he felt the first wave of your confusion and hurt, he locked it down more. “Rhys-”

“I think we should sleep in separate rooms again. Our relationship has crossed some lines.”

You blinked at him. Stunned and almost dead silent. “I don't understand where this is coming from?”

“It's the truth. I am your High Lord. You are my subject.” It killed him to say it. His own heart was screaming to stop, but that first brick wall now stood, waiting for the other 3 sides. “We cannot continue blurring that line.”

“You're my mate,” your broken whisper almost made him stop, but he dug in.

“Something we will need to discuss at a later date and time. Surely there will be away for us to reject the bond without causing a downfall and hurting your ability to nanny Nyx.” A second wall stood in place of you and his heart. He knew it was a low blow, and he watched your brows knit and mouth slightly open.

“Rhysand.”

“High Lord,” he corrected.

“Why are you doing this?”

“The bedroom you were in previously is fine.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I am establishing a boundary, y/n.” He watched as you began to cry, holding in his own tears as he did. “Our relationship needs to remain appropriate.”

"Do you not want me? We are blessed with this second chance, and you are just turning your back on it. Please, is it me? I know I am not the beauty she was, I know I am not as special as she was. But I'd fight to make you happy, for our children-”

"Nyx isn't yours. Stop acting like he is.”

He watched as you crumbled inside of yourself, that last wall forming around his heart by destroying yours. He didn't mean a single word, but how else was he supposed to save you? All the Mother had ever done to Rhysand was take and take.

You recovered from the blow quickly, nodding as you aggressively wiped the tears from your face. "You have the weekend to find someone else to do what I am. Wen and I are leaving.”

"You can't just take her from me.”

"Yes I can," he knew what was coming, that new bond screaming for him to stop this all. "You aren't her father. Stop acting like it.”

You wanted to slam the door as you walked away before his act fell, before he gripped his chest and warded the room to sob. Little Mor had quickly become his everything. That dark hair, that button nose, those deep blue eyes. She looked like his sister, but you didn't know that when you threatened to take her away. Hadn't known why all three winged males so quickly became attached to her.

And now he was losing her. He was losing you. He was losing everything.

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jetii · 1 month ago

Text

Until Morning

Pairing: Wolffe x Jedi!Reader / Wolffe x fem!Reader

Words: 12,758

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, forbidden relationship, smut, soft dom!Wolffe, orgasm denial, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, marking (in both ways), the beginning is filthy but he's actually so sweet in this, well ok it's all filthy, they are in looovvve

Summary: After confessing your feelings for each other, you and Wolffe carry on. During the day, you're nothing but professional, but what happens behind closed doors is something else entirely.

Prompts: 67. “It’s taking all my self control not to bend you over the table and fuck you right here.” & 92. “Fuck, knowing that you’re walking around filled with my cum has me so hard.”

A/N: I spilled angst all over the smut again, sorry! Hope sweet, affectionate Wolffe makes up for the bits of sad. I'd recommend reading For One Night first if you haven't already. Thanks @aynavaano for the inspo I needed to write this sequel and for inspiring the original!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Waking up next to someone was a feeling you had yet to get used to, but it was certainly not something you would complain about. The warm, firm body beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his breathing — it's a balm on your weary soul, and a reminder that for a little while, at least, you aren't alone.

You open your eyes and watch him, his features soft and peaceful. In sleep, the lines of stress and worry are gone, the scar stretching across his eye less harsh, and Wolffe looks almost boyish, his expression open and vulnerable. Your heart clenches at the sight, and you resist the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek.

In the early hours of the morning, it's easy to forget what awaits you both outside this room. To imagine a world where you could stay like this forever, the two of you lost in each other. You'll take what few moments you can get, though, and treasure them.

Wolffe stirs beside you, his face scrunching up in annoyance, and he lets out a grunt. That was something you were used to — how grumpy and irritable he could be in the mornings. It's endearing, and you stifle a smile, knowing he would grumble even more if he saw it.

"I can hear you thinking," he mutters, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Go back to sleep."

"Good morning," you reply, amused.

"No, it's not."

He turns his face, burrowing deeper under the covers, and you bite your lip hard to keep from laughing. He's a notorious grump in the mornings, and you'd learned the best way to deal with it is to leave him alone and let him wake up at his own pace, but when you try to get up, his arm snakes out, pulling you back against him.

"Wolffe!"

"Where do you think you're going?" he rumbles, his voice husky.

"To start the day," you tell him. "Some of us have a meeting to get to."

"No," he protests, his arm tightening around your waist. "Canceled."

"It's not canceled," you huff, but the protest is half-hearted, and when his hand slides down to your hip, squeezing the flesh, you can't help but lean back into him, a soft sigh escaping you.

"Not yet," he murmurs as his fingers trace circles on your skin. "Stay here a little longer."

"Plo is expecting you," you say, the reminder more for yourself than him. "You have a lot of work to do."

"I'm sure the General will understand," he says.

You know you should be the responsible one here, but it's hard to resist him. Especially when his lips are ghosting along the sensitive spot beneath your ear, his breath hot against your skin. It's tempting, too tempting, and your resolve crumbles.

"Fine," you relent. "But not too long."

Wolffe smirks, triumphant, and his lips find yours, capturing them in a deep kiss. You melt into him, your body sinking against his, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of him surrounding you. His hand drifts down, tracing the curve of your waist, and he tugs you closer, his hardness pressing into your hip.

"Wolffe," you mumble, breaking the kiss. "We shouldn't. I need to report to Plo, and you—"

"Are busy," he interrupts. "Very, very busy. Right now."

"You're impossible," you groan.

"Mm," he hums, his lips trailing down your throat. "Don't worry, jet'ika. I'll make it quick."

Before you can protest, his hand is slipping between your legs, his fingers seeking out the wet heat of your core. He finds your clit, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on the bud, and you gasp, the sound lost in the kiss.

He's insistent, his touch firm and purposeful, and he wastes no time in delving deeper, dipping into your wetness. Two fingers slide inside of you with little resistance, and the stretch is just shy of too much, his thick digits filling you in a way that has you trembling.

"Kriff, you're so wet already," he growls, his mouth pressed against the hollow of your throat. He nips at the sensitive flesh, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Tell me, jet'ika, does the thought of sneaking around turn you on?"

"No," you gasp, even as your hips buck against his hand.

"Liar," he chides.

Wolffe pulls his fingers out, and before you can whine in protest, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him. His gaze is dark, pupil blown in his single gold eye, and the predatory look on his face makes your toes curl. He leans down, his mouth pressing against the shell of your ear.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to fuck you. And I'm going to make it quick, just like you asked. But I'm not going to let you come."

"Wolffe—"

"You're going to walk around today with my cum dripping out of you, and every time you see me, you're going to remember how good it felt. You're going to be thinking about how hard you came on my cock last night, and how badly you want to do it again. And you're not going to get to,” he continues. "You're going to have to wait, like a good girl, until we can sneak away again. Until I can fuck you properly."

The words make a wave of heat wash over you, and your cunt clenches around nothing, a desperate ache forming between your legs. You arch against him, seeking friction, but his hands pin your hips to the bed, preventing any movement.

"Understand?"

"Yes," you breathe, your voice shaky, and he rewards you with a sharp nip to the neck.

"That's my girl," he murmurs. He moves to straddle your thighs, and the sudden shift of his weight makes you gasp. You can feel his length, hot and heavy against the curve of your ass, and you can't help but push back, teasing him.

He chuckles, the sound rough.

"Oh, I see how it is," he says, and he pushes you flat, his palm splayed on your lower back. "You're not very good at being patient, are you?"

"You're taking too long," you grumble.

"I told you I was going to make this quick," he says. "So be a good girl and keep still."

He grips your hips, pulling you up, and then he's pushing into you, his length sliding in easily. The stretch is delicious, and you bite your lip, the ache settling low in your belly. He fills you perfectly, the angle allowing him to sink deeper than before, and you moan, the sensation of being full almost too much. Your head drops down, resting on the pillow, and he gives an experimental thrust, the motion slow and deliberate.

"Maker," he hisses, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips. "You feel so fucking good."

He sets a punishing pace, his thrusts hard and fast. He fucks you like a man possessed, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the room. He's not gentle, not sweet, and the contrast of his tenderness the night before and his roughness now has you panting, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, and the change of position has him hitting a spot deep inside of you, the friction sending sparks dancing across your vision. You whine, and he shushes you, his breath hot against your skin.

"Shh," he whispers. "Gotta keep quiet. Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, would we?"

The thought makes you tremble, and he huffs a laugh.

"Yeah," he says, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? For everyone to hear how good I'm fucking you."

He punctuates his statement with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock hitting the spot again. You clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling the moan that threatens to slip out.

"So good," he growls, his voice low and ragged. "You're so fucking good for me."

His pace becomes frantic, his thrusts losing their rhythm. You can tell he's getting close, his breathing heavy and labored, and you can feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the anticipation of his release making your cunt clench around him. Wolffe hisses, his grip tightening on your hips, and he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt.

The sensation is enough to make your eyes roll back, and you feel him twitch inside you, his cock pulsing. His release is hot and sticky, coating your inner walls, and the knowledge that he's filling you up, marking you as his, sends a rush of arousal through you. The idea is depraved, filthy, and it's only your hand covering your mouth that keeps you from crying out.

You can't help but grind back against him, the pressure inside you almost too much. His hands grip your hips, holding you still, and he chuckles, his lips trailing along the shell of your ear.

"Ah, ah," he chides, "be a good girl and take it."

You bite your lip, trying to ignore the desperate need building inside you, but the friction is almost too much, the sound of his voice whispering in your ear making the ache worse. You're trembling, the tension in your body coiled tight, and the only thing you can focus on is the feel of him inside you, his cock stretching you wide.

And then he's pulling out, his length sliding free. The sudden emptiness inside you is a shock, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes. He shushes you, his fingers stroking the curve of your hip.

"What did I say?"

"Wolffe," you gasp, your voice hoarse. "Please, I need—"

"No."

He moves off you, the mattress shifting, and the loss of his warmth is almost enough to make you sob. He runs his hand along your spine, the touch soothing.

"Turn over."

You do as he asks, rolling onto your back, and the sight of him, his pupils blown and his chest flushed, is almost enough to undo you. He leans over, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, and his thumb traces the curve of your cheek.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes burning. Your cheeks flush, the compliment making your heart skip a beat, and he gives you a soft, almost sad, smile.

"You really are, you know," he says, his voice thick. "Beautiful."

His other hand trails down, brushing against your thigh, and he grips your leg, his fingers digging into the flesh.

"I want to see you."

You open your mouth to ask him what he means, but the words die in your throat as he pushes your legs apart, his gaze zeroing in on the spot between your thighs. The action is intimate, almost obscene, and you can't help the flush that spreads across your cheeks, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Perfect," he mutters. "Kriff, you're perfect."

His fingers move, his knuckles brushing against the wetness that's gathered between your folds. You whimper, the touch almost painful, and he lets out a rough sound before sliding his fingers into you. You can feel him pushing his cum back inside you, the action somehow more erotic than anything else he's done, and the thought makes you blush even more.

"That's it," he murmurs. "There you go.”

You can't help but push back, grinding yourself against his palm, and his fingers press against the spot deep inside of you, the pleasure making your vision blur.

"Oh, fuck," you breathe.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your ear.

"If you can make it through the day," he says, his voice low and rough, "I promise I'll make it worth your while. I'll take my time. I'll taste every inch of you. I'll lick my cum out of you, and then I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

The promise makes your toes curl, and you whimper, the ache inside of you almost too much.

"Wolffe, please—"

"Commander?"

There's a knock at the door, and the sound of a voice just outside is enough to make your heart drop through your stomach. Wolffe's head snaps up, and he curses, his expression shifting from lust to irritation in an instant.

"What?" he calls out.

"Sir, it's Sinker," the trooper replies. "General Plo wanted me to remind you of your meeting with him. You're late."

"I'm aware," Wolffe grits out.

He glares at the door, jaw clenched, and then he turns back to you, his expression softening. He runs his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the messy strands, and the touch is so tender, the look on his face so vulnerable, that it almost makes your heart stop.

"We'll finish this later," he promises. He glances down, his gaze taking in the sight of his fingers buried inside you. "Fuck."

You look at him, and his expression is torn, the desire to stay, to continue where the two of you left off, clear. You bite your lip, trying not to whimper, and he closes his eyes, his nostrils flaring.

"I wish I could just—"

He cuts himself off, and then he's pulling his fingers out, leaving you empty and wanting. You watch, mesmerized, as he brings them to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the slickness that coats them.

"Fuck, I can't wait to have you on my tongue," he says.

You whine, the image of his face buried between your thighs making the ache in your core flare, and he smirks.

"I know, cyare," he murmurs. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

"Okay," you whisper.

"Get dressed," he says. "I'll see you at the meeting."

"Right."

He gets up, moving away from you, and the sudden loss of him is enough to make the knot in your chest tighten. The room feels empty, colder, and you swallow hard, the feeling of him still lingering on your skin even as he pulls on his blacks and starts to clip his armor back into place.

"Wolffe," you say softly.

He pauses, turning to look at you, and the tenderness in his expression makes your heart skip a beat. Wolffe was not a soft man, and the thought of him looking at you like this, like you were something precious, was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

"I love you."

He smiles, a real smile, the kind you don't see often. The kind that reaches his eyes.

"I love you too," he says. "I'll clear the way. You wait five minutes and then follow. Don't make eye contact."

You nod, and he hesitates, the look on his face making it clear that he's just as reluctant to leave as you are. His hand hovers over the control panel, his fingers trembling, and then he lets out a sigh, pressing the button that slides the door open.

"Five minutes," he says.

"Five minutes."

And then he's gone, the door sliding shut behind him. You stare at it, your chest aching, and then you bury your face in your hands, pressing hard against your eyes. You take a few deep breaths, trying to get yourself under control, before you climb out of bed, searching for your discarded robes.

The next few hours are going to be difficult, if not downright painful. You had no idea how you were going to get through them, how you were going to look at him and not see the man who'd held you, touched you, whispered the sweetest things in your ear.

It's a cruel trick, one the universe is playing on both of you, and you know it. But despite the pain, the longing, you would choose him. It's been months since the two of you started sneaking around, stealing moments here and there, and while it's far from ideal, you can't bring yourself to regret any of it.

Despite everything, you're happy. Happier than you've been in a long time. And if the price for that happiness is the constant ache, the longing, the knowledge that you'll never truly be together, then so be it.

Because in the end, it's worth it. He's worth it.

So you dress, ignoring the way the fabric brushes against the sensitive skin between your thighs, clinging to the dampness of your skin, and you steel yourself for what's to come. The rest of the day is going to be miserable, the hours dragging on as the two of you struggle to keep up appearances, but when the night falls and the lights dim, he'll be waiting.

And that is the promise that keeps you going.

"Five minutes," you say to yourself.

You count down the final seconds, the minutes passing agonizingly slowly. When the timer finally hits zero, you let out a shaky breath and push the button, the door sliding open with a hiss.

You step into the hallway, closing the door behind you, and then you square your shoulders, the resolve in your gut steeling you for the hours ahead.

It's going to be a long day.

But the promise of the night to come makes it a little easier to bear.

It's a familiar routine now, the two of you sneaking around.

Hiding in the shadows, finding quiet places where no one will find you. Kissing him, touching him, and letting him do the same. Whispering promises, sweet nothings, and holding him close. The stolen moments, the brief seconds when it's just the two of you and the rest of the galaxy fades away.

It's a dance, a game, and it's one you and Wolffe have been playing for months now.

And yet, there's something new about today. Something different.

This time, there's a hunger, an intensity, to his gaze that wasn't there before. Wolffe has been watching you all day, and each time your eyes meet, it's like a current running between the two of you, an awareness, an acknowledgement.

You know, and he knows, that when the two of you are alone, nothing will stop him from taking you. From claiming every inch of your body. From showing you exactly how much he needs you, how badly he wants you.

The knowledge makes you ache, and the hours crawl by, each second feeling like an eternity. The two of you haven't had the chance to be alone since this morning, and the anticipation is making you tremble. It's a cruel thing, this game, and you've spent the better part of the day trying to keep yourself from looking at him.

It's hard, though.

Wolffe is an imposing figure, his presence commanding. And even with his armor, even when he's not touching you, the pull between the two of you is electric, magnetic.

It's almost painful, this dance the two of you are doing.

He's standing at the front of the command center, his hands clasped behind his back. His shoulders are tense, his expression stoic, and his gaze is trained on the holotable. You know he's only half paying attention, his thoughts no doubt elsewhere.

On you, you think.

You try not to fidget, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but the longer you stand here, the more aware of him you become. His scent, the way his breath hitches every time someone gets too close. The heat of his body, the way his eyes track your every move.

It's maddening.

You've spent the past few hours working in silence, the two of you trying to avoid raising suspicion, but now, with the day almost done, the tension between you is palpable. You're wound tight, your body thrumming with nervous energy, and the thought of spending another second in this room is making you antsy.

Your gaze flickers to Wolffe, just for a second, and his eyes find yours, the intensity of his stare sending a thrill through you. His expression doesn't change beyond the working of his jaw, but the gold of his iris burns bright, the color shifting as his pupil dilates.

It's a simple gesture, but it's enough.

And it's enough to make the ache between your thighs throb.

He looks away, his focus returning to the hologram in front of him, and the moment passes. But it lingers, the ghost of his gaze, the weight of his attention, settling on you like a physical touch. You're trembling, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to glance over at him again.

Wolffe is a patient man, a trait that had served him well as a soldier, but when it came to you, that patience was a thin thread. A single strand that could snap at any moment.

And if the look in his eyes is anything to go by, it won't be long before that thread breaks.

"You've done well, Commander," Plo Koon says, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

Wolffe inclines his head, his expression neutral.

"Thank you, General," he replies.

"I appreciate the hard work you've put in. As well as your dedication. It hasn't gone unnoticed."

"It's my duty, sir," Wolffe says stiffly.

"I'm aware that these have been... difficult times."

Wolffe's jaw clenches, but he doesn't respond.

Plo turns, his gaze sweeping the room, and his eyes linger on you, the corners of his mask shifting in what you've come to recognize as a smile. You struggle to return it, and his expression softens. You have a sinking feeling that your former master is aware of more than you'd like, but he doesn't seem upset. If anything, he looks understanding, perhaps even a little sad.

"These are trying times for us all," he says, his voice soft. "I understand that this mission has been particularly difficult for the two of you."

You glance at Wolffe, and the look in his eyes is enough to make your breath catch. The raw hunger, the naked need, is enough to make your knees buckle. He doesn't look away, and his gaze is intense, searing.

"Yes," he rasps. "It has."

"Then perhaps we should call it a night," Plo says. "The both of you have earned a rest."

"I—" Wolffe clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm fine. I don't need a break."

"Commander," Plo says, his voice gentle but firm, "I insist.”

Wolffe's nostrils flare, but he doesn't argue.

"Sir," he grunts.

Plo Koon gives a dismissive wave, and the others shuffle out, their chatter filling the air. Wolffe remains at the front, his hands still clasped behind his back. His posture is rigid, his shoulders tense. The only movement is the subtle clenching and unclenching of his fists.

He's waiting.

You watch him, trying to hide your own nervousness.

"You've done good work, Commander," Plo says. "Both of you."

"Thank you, General."

"I'll leave you to your evening."

He turns, walking toward the exit, and you can't help but stare after him. There's a sense of finality in his words, and you feel a stab of guilt. Plo has been a father to you, a mentor, and a friend. And the idea of deceiving him, of sneaking around behind his back, is something you've wrestled with for months.

The truth is, though, that there's no other choice. Not really.

It's a cruel game, and the rules are set.

The door slides shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone, and you can't help but hold your breath. Wolffe doesn't move, and the room is filled with silence, the tension between the two of you thickening. You can feel his gaze on you, his stare burning, and you swallow hard.

"Sir, a word," he says to you, loud enough for anyone who's still lingering to hear. "I'd like your opinion on the reports."

"Of course, Commander," you reply, swallowing hard, and Wolffe waits until the room is completely clear before turning his gaze on you, his eye burning.

"You," he growls.

"Me?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

It takes you a moment to realize what he's referring to, and when you do, a flush spreads across your cheeks. You bite your lip, trying not to grin.

"I don't know what you mean," you say innocently.

"All fucking day," he mutters, stalking toward you. The sound of his footsteps echo, the click of his boots against the floor loud in the otherwise silent room. His stride is steady, his pace even, and the tension between the two of you builds with every step he takes.

Wolffe stands in front of you, his body towering over yours, and the proximity, the way he's looking at you, is enough to make the blood rush in your ears. He places a hand on the console, leaning towards you, and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown.

"You've been watching me," you whisper, and his eye darkens.

"Do you blame me?" he murmurs. "You're a sight, jet'ika. Standing there, pretending like nothing's going on. Fuck, knowing that you’re walking around filled with my cum has been driving me crazy.”

His hand moves, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek, and the touch sends a shiver down your spine.

"Did you like it, cyare?" he asks, his voice low. "The idea of me watching you all day, knowing what we did? How much I wanted to fuck you?"

You let out a shaky breath, your body aching for his touch.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Maker," he breathes. "What you do to me."

His hand moves, tracing the line of your jaw, and his gaze is fierce, possessive. You can feel the weight of his attention, the heat of his skin. His hand comes to rest under your chin, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“It’s taking all my self control not to bend you over the table and fuck you right here, right now," he says.

The words send a jolt through you, and you bite your lip, trying not to moan. You've been aching for him all day, the memory of this morning leaving you wanting. You want to touch him, feel his skin against yours, and the hunger in his eyes, the need in his voice, is enough to make you lose any remaining shred of self control.

"You're not the only one," you whisper.

He lets out a rough sound, his other hand moving to grip your hip.

"Is that so, jet'ika?" he murmurs. His lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you can feel his hot breath, his stubble scraping against your skin. You whine, arching into his touch, and he huffs a laugh, the sound making your toes curl.

"I can't wait to get you alone," he says.

"You won't have to."

His hands tighten, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, and he pulls you close. The press of his armor against your body is sharp, the cool plastoid making you shiver. He leans down, and his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat.

"We should stop," he murmurs, his breath fanning across your skin. "I should walk away."

"Probably," you agree, even as your fingers trail along the curve of his cheek.

"I don't think I can."

"Neither can I."

His teeth scrape against your neck, his stubble scratching the sensitive flesh, and you can't help but tilt your head back, exposing more of yourself to him.

"Kriff," he mutters. "I've been thinking about this all day."

You sigh and close your eyes. "Me too."

He lets out a sound that's half growl, half sigh, and his lips move along the column of your throat. His fingers trace circles on your waist, the touch making you tremble. He's close, his body pressing against yours, and the feel of him, the scent of him, is almost too much.

You've waited all day for this, the promise of being with him, touching him, the only thing keeping you from falling apart. And now that the moment is here, it's hard to breathe, hard to think. Harder still, to think about the consequences of this.

But you can't bring yourself to care. Not with his hands on you, his mouth on you.

You need this, and he needs you.

It's the only thought in your mind.

Wolffe presses a kiss to your pulse point, the sensation sending a spark of electricity through you, and his hands are roaming, tracing the curve of your waist. One wanders higher, skimming your side until it cups your breast. His thumb brushes over the stiff peak, and the friction makes your toes curl, a jolt of pleasure shooting down your spine.

"Wolffe..."

"Yeah?"

"We need to leave."

"Right," he murmurs. He pulls back, his hands gripping your waist. His gaze is heavy, his iris dark, and his pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Right," he repeats, and you can't help but smirk at the reluctance in his tone. The heat in his gaze softens, his expression shifting into something that looks a lot like adoration.

"Fuck, I love you."

You bite your lip, trying not to grin like an idiot.

"I love you, too," you tell him.

He huffs a laugh, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face, and he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. The kiss is soft, gentle, but there's a hint of urgency, a tension, to the way he's holding you.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get out of here."

You nod, and he lets go, his hands dropping away from you. The sudden loss of him is painful, and you have to force yourself not to grab him and kiss him again. Instead, you step away, moving toward the exit, and he follows, his pace slow.

As you approach the door, his fingers brush against the small of your back. The touch is light, the barest hint of contact, but it's a promise. A reminder.

A reassurance.

"Come on," he whispers, his breath ghosting across your ear. "I have plans for you."

The promise makes your cheeks flush, a thrill of anticipation running through you. Wolffe was not a man who did things by halves, and when he set his mind to something, he was relentless. You've seen that same dedication, that single-minded focus, in battle, and the idea of it being turned on you is almost too much.

"Oh?"

Wolffe grins, and the sight is almost predatory.

"Oh yes," he murmurs. "So hurry up. Unless you want me to take you here."

You let out a shaky breath, a rush of arousal making your core throb. The hand on your back urges you forward, guiding you until the door slides open. As soon as you step into the hall, his touch retreats, and he clasps his hands behind his back, the picture of professionalism.

But the look in his eyes is anything but.

"After you, General," he says.

Despite yourself, you can't help but smirk. "As you wish, Commander."

He falls into step beside you, the sound of his boots loud in the empty corridor, and the two of you make your way toward the turbolift. The silence is heavy, the air charged with anticipation. Every part of your body is acutely aware of him, the heat of his gaze, the sound of his breathing.

"So," he says, his voice casual. "How have you been enjoying your time back with the 104th?"

You frown and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is smooth, the line of his mouth even, but his eyes are burning.

"What do you mean?"

"Just making conversation."

You study him for a moment longer, and then shrug, turning back to the hallway.

"It’s been fine," you reply, unable to keep the confusion out of your voice.

"Fine, huh? No problems? No difficulties adjusting?"

You hesitate, your brow furrowing before you realize what he's doing. You give a friendly nod to a group of troopers walking past, and they greet you in return, oblivious to the tension between the two of you.

"No, Commander," you say evenly. "Nothing I can't handle."

"That's good to hear," Wolffe replies. "We're all happy to have you back."

"It's nice to be back."

"I'm glad."

The two of you enter the turbolift, the doors sliding shut behind you, and Wolffe turns to you, the look in his eyes sending a thrill down your spine.

"I think we should talk about these 'difficulties adjusting,'" he says, and his tone is almost teasing. "Maybe come up with some solutions."

"Maybe."

The lift begins to descend, the floor numbers flashing above the doors, and the air crackles with anticipation. You're acutely aware of his proximity, his body so close to yours, and it takes all your self-control not to touch him. Not to run your fingers over the ridges of his armor, the smooth plates glinting in the dim light.

Not to kiss him.

He glances at you, his eye burning, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing against the curve of your shoulder. It's a simple touch, barely a caress, but the gesture is deliberate. He's making a point, and you can't help but smile, your chest aching with fondness.

"You seem tense, General," he says, and there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "Is everything alright?"

"You're insufferable," you murmur.

"I'm not the one who's been distracting me all day," he retorts, his voice low.

You can't help but roll your eyes. "You started it."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"And how do you figure that?"

"You know very well what you did this morning," you hiss, and you can't keep the smile off your face. "Don't think I've forgotten."

"Remind me," he murmurs. He steps closer, and his hand drifts lower, his fingers skimming along your arm.

"Wolffe—"

"Please," he whispers. "Remind me."

You can't stop yourself. You reach up, your fingers cupping the side of his face, and the gesture is tender, affectionate. You brush a lock of his hair behind his ear, and he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering closed.

"You were very naughty," you murmur, and the word, so unlike you, makes him smirk. You can't help but grin in return.

"Is that right?" he whispers.

"Very," you continue. "Teasing me like that. Filling me up. Making me wait."

He lets out a low groan, his eyes opening.

"It's been torture, Wolffe. Thinking about you. Thinking about this."

His hand comes up, his fingers curling around your wrist, and he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand. His breath is warm, his lips soft. He doesn't break eye contact, his gaze fixed on yours, and you can't help but lean into him, your body pressed against his armor.

"It's been hard for me too," Wolffe whispers.

The admission is almost painful, and you bite your lip, trying to fight the swell of emotion in your chest. The two of you have been sneaking around for months now, finding stolen moments here and there. You've made the most of it, but the fact is that this is dangerous, the risk of being caught too high.

"I hate this," you say. "Having to hide."

"Me too," he says. His expression is raw, vulnerable. "But it's worth it. Being with you. Seeing you."

You blink back tears, and he cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw. He presses your palm against his lips again, and his gaze is fierce, unwavering.

"Worth every moment," he whispers. "Even if it kills me."

"I know," you reply. "I know."

The lift slows, the doors sliding open, and the spell between the two of you is broken. Wolffe steps back, his expression neutral, and he gestures for you to step out.

"After you, General," he says, polite and detached.

"Thank you, Commander," you murmur. Your hands fist at your sides, your body aching for his.

Wolffe follows you, the two of you stepping into the empty hallway. It's late, the corridors abandoned, and the silence is almost deafening. The only sound is the hum of the ship's engines and the pounding of your heart. You walk slowly, deliberately, and the tension between the two of you builds, the ache in your core growing stronger.

"Your quarters or mine?" he asks.

"Yours," you reply.

"Why?"

"Because they're closer."

Wolffe lets out a rough laugh, the sound making your heart skip a beat, and he falls in step beside you. His arm brushes against yours, the contact sending a jolt through you, and he looks down, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk.

"So eager," he murmurs.

"You're one to talk," you reply.

"Fair point."

He grins, his eyes twinkling, and the sight is almost too much. He's breathtaking, his expression bright and playful. It's rare to see him so open, so free, and the realization that you're the only one who gets to see him like this is humbling.

You smile back, the warmth in your chest spreading, and he bumps your arm, his gaze fixed on yours.

"It's nice, though," he says softly.

"What is?"

"This," he replies. "Being with you."

You can't help but bite your lip.

"It is," you agree.

"Even if we're not... able to..." He trails off, and the look on his face is almost bashful. It's adorable, and it makes your chest ache. You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, and his eyes drift to the spot, a sigh escaping him.

"I'm happy," he murmurs.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Me too."

He huffs a laugh and gives you a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he says. "This isn't exactly how I planned to start the evening."

"I don't mind," you say.

"I know," he replies. "But we have time for all that later."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he murmurs, and the promise in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You bite back a smile, trying not to squirm, and he gives you a mischievous look in return. He's teasing you, and you can't help but feel a stab of affection.

There was a time, not so long ago, that Wolffe had been wary of you, reluctant to trust you. But now? Now, there was a level of familiarity between the two of you that you had never experienced with another person. An ease, a comfort. And while you knew the risks, the thought of walking away, of ending this, was unbearable.

Whatever it was that was happening between the two of you... it was real. It was important. And it was worth the risk.

You turn to him and smirk.

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask. "Gonna tie me up?"

Wolffe groans. "You'd like that."

"I would," you agree, unabashed.

"Not tonight," he murmurs. "Tonight is about you."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," he says, and the low rumble of his voice makes your toes curl. He looks down, his gaze darkening, and he smirks. “To make up for this morning."

You try not to groan. Wolffe's dedication to your pleasure was both a blessing and a curse. While the man was nothing if not determined, his focus was intense. And when he set his mind to something... well. You could hardly complain.

But it was difficult to accept his attention without offering anything in return. It was hard not to want to give as good as you got, and even harder to relinquish control. But when it came to Wolffe, the urge to surrender, to submit, was overpowering. He made it easy. Made it tempting. Made it feel right.

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to tremble. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"You're going to let me take care of you."

The words make your stomach twist. It's hard to believe that a man as powerful and intimidating as Wolffe is capable of such gentleness. That he can be so soft and tender. You don't deserve it, and yet, he seems content to give it.

"If you say so," you murmur.

"I do."

His tone is firm, almost stern, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. He glances at you, and the look in his eye is tender, his expression filled with warmth.

Wolffe stops in front of his door, and you stand a distance back, your hands tucked in your robes. He places his hand on the scanner, and the door slides open, revealing his darkened room.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment.

Then he steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.

"After you," he says, his voice a low rumble. You look around the empty hallway before stepping inside, and the door slides shut behind you, the room darkening.

There's a faint click, and then the light flares, illuminating the space.

The sight makes your breath catch.

The sheets are rumpled, the same as you left them this morning, but there's a vase of flowers on the nightstand, the petals a vivid red. Next to it is a bottle of wine, and two glasses sit beside it. There are candles lit around the room, their flames dancing, and the smell of spice and clove fills the air.

He's been busy.

He's been planning.

The thought of Wolffe standing here, arranging flowers, lighting candles, setting everything up for you, makes your heart ache. The gesture is so unexpected, so sweet, that you feel the breath leave your lungs. You don't deserve him.

He moves around the room, extinguishing the lights until only the candles remain, casting everything in a warm glow. His movements are precise, careful, and the look on his face is almost nervous.

"You did all this?" you whisper.

"Well," he says, his tone hesitant. "It's not much. But... yes."

"What would you have done if I said I wanted to go back to my quarters?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

He steps closer, his body looming over yours.

"I would've convinced you," he murmurs, his breath fanning across the side of your face. "I can be very persuasive."

You glance up at him and are startled to find his gaze already on you. His eyes are dark, his pupil blown wide. His mouth is set in a firm line, and there's a flush spreading across his cheeks. Your lips part, your throat suddenly dry, and you swallow hard.

He smiles, and it's a small, hesitant thing. "Too much?"

"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "Not at all."

He lets out a low sound that might be relief and reaches out, his hands coming to rest on your hips. His grip is light, and the heat of his skin seeps through the fabric of your robes, warming your flesh. You can't help but sway closer, leaning into his touch.

"So," he starts. "Would you like a drink? Or should we get started?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Started?"

"We have a lot to cover," Wolffe says with a wicked grin. "A lot of lost time to make up for."

Your eyes widen, and a shiver runs down your spine.

"How long were you planning this?" you ask.

He shrugs, his gaze flickering across your face.

"A while," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Would have done it last night, but someone was feeling feisty."

You can't help but grin, remembering how you had teased him. How you had teased each other. The way his mouth had felt against yours, his hands gripping your hips. How you had ridden him, his body trembling beneath you. The look in his eye as he'd watched you.

"Sorry," you murmur. "But the view was incredible."

"It's always a show with you," he murmurs, his smile wry.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he says. "Every time you walk into a room."

You blush, and he chuckles, the sound low and throaty.

"Don't deny it," he says. "I've seen the way you move. The way you hold yourself. Like you know people are watching. Like you're aware of every eye on you."

You swallow hard, your cheeks hot. He's not wrong. There had been a time when you'd enjoyed the attention. But that was before. Before the war. Before your world had changed. Before Wolffe. Now, his gaze was the only one you craved. His opinion the only one that mattered. And the idea of disappointing him, of letting him down, was unbearable.

"You do that," he murmurs. "Get people looking at you."

"You're the only one I care about," you whisper. "I've always had eyes for you."

Wolffe blinks, startled, and a slow smile spreads across his face. The sight is devastating, the softness of his expression making your chest ache. You can't help but lean into him, drawn to him like a magnet.

The way he looks at you... It's the same way he's always looked at you. Fierce and gentle. Aching and longing. Hungry and hesitant. You've never met anyone who can convey so much emotion with a single look. And you've never felt as seen as when he looks at you. You've never felt as loved as when he holds you.

Wolffe's hands slide along the curve of your waist, and he pulls you against him, the press of his armor against your chest making you shiver. He leans in, his nose brushing against yours, and you tilt your head back, trying to capture his lips. But he avoids the contact, his mouth hovering just out of reach.

You huff a laugh. "Kiss me already."

He hums and brushes his lips against yours. It's barely a kiss, the touch a featherlight tease. But it's still electric, the contact making your skin tingle. He does it again, the pressure lingering, and your eyes flutter closed, a soft moan escaping you.

The two of you trade soft kisses, and it's torturous, the pace so slow and gentle. It's almost maddening, and your core throbs, the ache becoming more persistent.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back, his gaze burning. You can't help but reach up and cup the side of his face, your fingers brushing against his cheek. The skin is smooth, and you trail a finger down the line of his scar, the raised tissue warm.

"What is it?" you ask.

"I can't decide where I want to start," he says, his voice low. "And how much I can fit in."

"You have all night," you murmur, trying not to smile.

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, General?"

You bite your lip. "Maybe."

"Mm," he hums. "Well, we'll see how you feel after I've had my way with you."

"Promises, promises," you say, a smirk curving your mouth. You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, the touch making your skin burn. He's not hurting you, not even close, but the pressure is a reminder of his strength, the raw power he has over you.

"Do I ever disappoint you?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Never," you whisper.

His mouth curves into a smile.

"Good," he murmurs. He dips his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your ear, and his breath is warm, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Take your robe off."

You nod and fumble with the clasp, your hands clumsy. He waits patiently as you tug the garment off and toss it to the side. As soon as the fabric falls to the ground, his hands move to the collar of your tunic, and he begins to undo the ties, his fingers working slowly.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers. "No idea how badly I need you."

You shiver, a moan escaping you, and his hands slide down, tugging the shirt free from the waistband of your trousers. He pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. It lands in a heap next to the discarded robe, and your boots quickly follow

He leans down and presses a kiss to your bare shoulder as his hands find the clasp of your bra. He unhooks it with ease and lets it fall to the floor before straightening up and pulling you flush against him. His mouth finds yours, and his lips are soft, the kiss gentle.

He breaks the contact, and his gaze is burning.

"Take the rest off," he says, and his tone is soft, but the command is clear.

You reach down and push your pants off along with your underwear, and his hands move, gripping your hips. He lifts you effortlessly and sets you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight. You shift, the sheets cool against your skin, and he kneels down, his hands trailing along the length of your leg.

His fingers brush against the inside of your ankle and begin to trail upwards. The touch is light, almost ticklish, and his mouth follows, his lips leaving a burning trail along the inside of your calf. He reaches the sensitive flesh behind your knee and presses a kiss to the spot before continuing upwards.

"Wolffe..."

His lips find the inside of your thigh and continue upwards. His breath is warm, and his stubble scratches the delicate skin, making you gasp. It's agonizingly slow, the pace unhurried, and your toes curl, your muscles clenching. He reaches the crease of your hip, and his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin.

"Wolffe..."

He chuckles and continues higher, his mouth moving toward your center. His lips brush against your folds, and you shiver, the sensation making you tremble. He pauses and looks up at you, his gaze burning.

"I've been thinking about doing this all day," he murmurs. "My mouth on you."

You can't help but squirm, his words sending a thrill down your spine. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your hip, and then, without warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue tracing along the length of your slit. You let out a ragged gasp and fall back onto your elbows, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Oh," you whimper, your voice shaking. "Oh fuck."

His mouth is relentless, and the pleasure is immediate and intense. The sensations are almost too much, and you can't stop the moan that escapes you. You're wet, embarrassingly so, Wolffe's release still leaking from your core.

The thought makes you blush, but Wolffe doesn't seem to mind. His hands slide along the length of your thighs, and his thumbs part the swollen flesh of your folds. He dips his head lower and licks a long stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit. The pressure is unrelenting, and you writhe under his attention, your legs trembling.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to keep still. "Fuck."

His mouth is everywhere, his tongue licking and teasing and tasting. It's too much, the pleasure building, and you can't help but arch your back, your eyes squeezing shut. Your breath comes in short gasps as he laps at your folds, his hands gripping your thighs. You can't help but thrust upward, grinding against his mouth.

"That's it," he whispers. "Good girl."

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, and the orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes fly open, and the room blurs, everything fading away except for the sensation of his mouth on you. Your body tenses, your muscles contracting, and your head falls back, a ragged gasp escaping you.

The waves of pleasure roll over you, and it's several moments before the feeling subsides, the tension in your body finally releasing. You've barely relaxed against the sheets when Wolffe slides a finger inside of you, his movements slow and gentle. The sensation is almost painful, the friction making you hiss.

He pauses, his mouth pulling away from you, and he studies you, his brow furrowed. "Alright?"

You can't help but nod. "Yes."

His eyes dart to the scar that bisects the inside of your thigh, his gaze lingering.

"Does it hurt?" he asks softly.

"Not anymore," you reply. "Just sensitive."

"Are you sure? I don't want to—"

"Please," you whisper. "Please don't stop."

Wolffe nods and continues, his movements slow and steady. You watch as his finger moves in and out of you, the sight making your skin flush. His thumb brushes against your clit and begins to move in small circles. The contact is almost too much, and a whimper escapes you.

"Oh," you gasp, biting your lip. "Fuck, Wolffe..."

He dips his head and his tongue joins his thumb, the two of them working in tandem. His mouth is warm and soft, and the sensations are almost too much, the pleasure making your eyes roll back. He adds a second finger and his movements become faster. Harder. You can't help but buck against him, grinding into his hand.

"More," you beg. "More. Please."

He doesn't hesitate. His mouth closes around your clit, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud, and your core pulses. It's almost too much, and you writhe beneath him, trying to get away from the pleasure.

But he doesn't stop.

His fingers continue moving inside of you, his mouth relentless. He adds a third finger, the stretch almost painful. Your core clenches, the tension building, and it's a matter of moments before another orgasm crashes through you, more intense than the first.

Your back arches off the bed as your muscles tense and then go limp. Your limbs feel like lead, and you collapse back onto the mattress, gasping for air. Your vision is blurry, the room spinning. You can feel sweat beading on your forehead, and it takes a moment for your senses to return.

Wolffe's kneeling between your legs, his hand resting on the inside of your thigh. His expression is smug, his eyes twinkling, and there's a hint of mischief in his gaze.

"Want another?" he asks.

"Fuck," you groan. "You're going to kill me."

He smirks and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your stomach. "You said that last time."

"Did I?"

"And the time before that," he murmurs.

"It's a good way to go."

"Hm," he says. He kisses a line across your abdomen, and his hands wander, sliding along the curve of your waist. "I can think of a few other ways."

His mouth travels lower, his lips brushing against the hollow of your hip. You can't help but tense, a moan escaping you.

"Relax," he whispers. "I've got you."

"Please," you beg.

"Please what?"

"More."

"More of this?"

"Yes," you gasp.

Wolffe smirks, and his tongue licks a long line up the inside of your thigh. His stubble is rough against your sensitive flesh, and you can't help but squirm, trying to get away. But his hands grip your legs, his hold firm, and he continues, his mouth traveling up the inside of your thigh.

The contact is teasing, his movements slow and deliberate, and his tongue is hot and wet against your skin. You can't help but buck your hips, grinding against his mouth. He groans, and the sound makes your eyes roll back.

"Don't stop," you beg.

"No?"

"Please."

"Beg me," he murmurs, and he nips at the inside of your thigh, the sharp pain making you gasp.

"Please," you gasp. "Don't stop. I need you. Please."

He chuckles, his breath fanning across your slick folds.

"Good girl," he whispers.

You shudder at the praise, a shiver running down your spine. His mouth returns to your center, and his tongue traces along your folds, lapping at the sensitive flesh. The contact is electric, and you writhe, your head falling back.

"Wolffe," you moan, trying to pull away. But his grip is too tight, and his tongue continues to move, licking and teasing and tasting. It isn’t long before you're trembling, the tension in your body reaching its breaking point. Your hands fist in the sheets, and you arch off the bed, crying out as the third orgasm rocks through you.

You collapse back against the mattress, panting.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to catch your breath. "Wolffe."

He doesn't respond, his mouth still on you. His tongue flicks over your clit, and he sucks the swollen bud between his lips, drawing another cry from you. He doesn't stop, and the pleasure builds, the sensations becoming almost unbearable.

"Wait," you gasp. "Wait, I—"

But it's too late. The fourth orgasm is even more intense than the others, and the intensity makes you see stars. Your whole body goes rigid, and you can't stop yourself from thrashing. Your back arches off the bed, and your fists twist in the sheets as your mouth clamps shut, a high-pitched whine escaping you.

It feels like an eternity before the pleasure finally subsides, and you slump against the mattress, trying to catch your breath. Wolffe pulls away, his mouth shining, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Okay?" he asks, his tone amused.

"I'm... I'm..." You swallow hard, unable to form a coherent thought. "Yeah."

"Good," he murmurs, and his voice is a low rumble. He pushes himself up and sits back on his heels. His eye is dark, his pupil blown wide, and his hands come to rest on your waist, the pressure firm.

"Up," he murmurs. "Knees."

You nod, and your limbs move slowly, the exhaustion from earlier creeping up on you. Your body is still trembling, and it takes a moment for you to settle into position, your knees digging into the mattress.

You watch as Wolffe stands, and he strips off his armor in quick succession, the movements smooth and efficient. The sight is always a surprise. You're not used to seeing him bare.

When the war first started, the clones had been reluctant to undress around you. Their uniforms were a source of comfort. Of safety. It was only later that you realized how vulnerable it made them feel. How naked they were without their armor. It was a show of trust. A sign of acceptance.

It had taken months of gentle coaxing to get Wolffe out of his armor. The fact that he had removed it for you that day in the bunker was a testament to how far the two of you had come.

And now?

Now it was a familiar sight.

You watch as he unclasps his codpiece and sets it on the shelf. He's already hard, the bulge obvious, and his cock is straining against the material of his blacks. You can't help but bite your lip, the sight making you squirm despite the exhaustion in your limbs.

"Like what you see?" he asks, a smirk curving his mouth.

"You know I do," you murmur.

"Well then," he replies. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his blacks and pushes the material down his hips. His cock springs free, the tip red and swollen. You can't help but lick your lips, the sight making your core clench.

"How do you want me?" you ask, the words breathles.

He lets out a rough laugh. "You'd let me do anything right now."

You swallow hard. He's not wrong. The orgasms he'd given you had left you weak and trembling. You couldn't deny him anything, and you didn’t want to.

"True," you say. "But where do you want me?"

"Right where you are."

He steps closer and grips his cock. You can't help but stare, his length impressive. Everything about him is impressive. It's almost intimidating. Almost.

The truth is, you've never felt as safe as when Wolffe's arms are wrapped around you. As cherished as when he's between your legs. As protected as when his gaze is on you.

His hand begins to move, his fist pumping his length, and you watch, transfixed. He lets out a low groan, and the sound makes you shiver, the heat in your core flaring. His thumb brushes against the tip, spreading the precum, and he grips the base, the veins along his length prominent.

"Touch yourself," he orders.

You nod and reach between your legs. Your folds are wet and swollen, and your clit is still sensitive from the attention Wolffe had given you. You press a finger against the bundle of nerves and gasp. The contact makes you shudder, and your eyes drift shut, a ragged moan escaping you.

Wolffe watches, his gaze intent. "Good girl."

"Fuck," you hiss. "Wolffe... I need..."

"What do you need?"

"You."

"Yeah?" he whispers. "Do you think you can handle it?"

It's a tease, but you know he means it. He wants to know that you're okay, that you're not pushing yourself. You've experienced Wolffe's stamina firsthand. More than once. And while it had been incredible, the man was insatiable. It's a miracle the two of you hadn't gotten caught.

"I can take it," you say. "Come here."

He nods and steps closer. His hand grips his cock again and he gives himself a few more pumps. He's flushed, his breathing ragged, and his hair is damp, a lock of it falling over his forehead.

The sight is breathtaking.

"Come on," you urge. "I'm ready."

"You sure?"

"Positive," you murmur. "Please."

He grunts and shifts forward, climbing onto the bed. His hands find your waist, and he guides you back, the pillows cushioning your head. He moves to hover over you, his forearms braced on either side of your head, and his hips settle between yours, the length of his cock pressing against your center.

The sensation is delicious, and you can't help but roll your hips, grinding against him. Wolffe groans, the sound deep and rumbling, and he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching the delicate skin.

"Easy," he murmurs. "Let's take it slow."

"Why?" you breathe.

"Because we have all night."

He kisses a trail along the column of your throat and then pulls back. His hands find the backs of your knees, and he lifts, hooking your legs over his elbows. He shifts forward, the head of his cock brushing against your folds, and the contact makes you hiss.

He pushes in, the stretch almost painful. The sensation is so intense that your eyes roll back, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. His movements are slow and steady, his pace agonizingly unhurried.

"Fuck," you hiss.

"Yeah," he whispers. "You're doing so well."

The praise sends a thrill through you, and you can't help but moan. Wolffe’s lips quirk upward, the corners of his mouth curving into a grin, and he dips his head, kissing a trail along your collarbone. His tongue traces the curve of your shoulder before moving higher, his mouth finding the spot below your ear.

He sucks on the sensitive flesh, and the contact makes your breath catch. He continues, his teeth grazing your pulse point, and the pressure is firm, but not painful. He wouldn’t leave a mark. Not in a visible spot. That was one of the unspoken rules.

You were both careful not to leave any evidence behind after the first time. No bruise, bites, or scratches. Nothing that could raise questions. Nothing that could cause a scandal.

But the thought of being marked by him, of him leaving some sign of possession, makes your heart pound. It’s a possessiveness you reciprocate. You can’t help it. When it comes to Wolffe, you’re hopelessly drawn to him.

His mouth moves lower, his teeth scraping against the swell of your breast. He sucks on the tender flesh, and the feeling is intense, the ache making you writhe. He repeats the motion, the suction firm, and the sting makes your toes curl.

He releases your skin, and his eye flickers upwards, the color a dark grey.

"I should stop," he murmurs. "Shouldn't leave any marks."

You can't help but whine. "Please..."

"It's not a good idea."

"Just one."

He frowns, his expression conflicted. But he doesn't say no.

"Where?"

You consider the question for a moment, then your hand finds the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair. You guide him lower, toward the valley between your breasts. He obliges, his mouth moving over the spot, and the contact makes you shiver.

"Here," you murmur. "Please."

He pauses, and then he dips his head and bites. The feeling is sharp, the pain making your muscles tense. His tongue flicks against the skin, and then he's sucking, his mouth relentless. The pleasure is immediate, and the combination of pain and bliss makes you moan.

His mouth lingers, his tongue tracing over the mark. Then he pulls back, the look on his face almost proud.

"Good?"

You can't help but huff a laugh. "Yeah."

He leans in and presses a kiss to the spot, and you can't help but squirm, the friction making your core clench. Wolffe lets out a groan, the sound low and guttural, and his hips snap forward, his movements quickening.

The sudden change makes you gasp, the feeling almost too much. You're still sensitive, and the feeling is intense, the ache deep. You can't help but tilt your head back, your eyes squeezing shut, your chest heaving as your lungs fight for air.

"You alright?" he asks.

You nod, biting your lip. "Yes."

He kisses the hollow of your throat.

"You're taking it so well," he murmurs. "Just a little more."

"Okay."

His thrusts pick up speed, and the rhythm is steady, his pace unhurried. But the strength of his thrusts makes your eyes water, and when he moves your legs, hooking them over his shoulders the change in angle is almost unbearable.

You cry out, and your eyes fly open. The sight is devastating, and you can't look away. Wolffe's above you, his body caging yours, and his face is flushed, his mouth open, his brow furrowed.

The expression is one you've seen before.

The look in his eye is intense. Fierce. Possessive. It's a side of him that only you get to see, a vulnerability that only you get to witness. You can't help but wrap your arms around him, your hands roaming his back, his shoulders, his sides. You touch him everywhere, the feeling almost desperate.

Wolffe leans down, pressing your thighs further into your chest, and his mouth finds yours in a messy kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip. His movements are sloppy, his focus on his thrusts, and the lack of coordination makes him seem vulnerable.

It's a side of him that he would never show anyone else. Only you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, and your hands find his face, your thumbs tracing along the scarred ridge of his brow. He turns his head, kissing the palm of your hand, and then his lips find the inside of your wrist, his mouth moving along the line of your pulse.

"Wolffe," you whisper, his name a plea.

"I've got you," he says. He picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, and his hand snakes between your legs, his fingers finding the swollen bud of your clit. His touch is electric, and you let out a ragged gasp, your nails digging into his skin.

"So close," you breathe.

He nods, his breath coming in short gasps. "Come on. Let go."

You can't help but obey. You arch off the bed, your head falling back as the final orgasm rocks through you. It's the most intense of the night, the waves crashing over you and pulling you under. It feels like an eternity before the sensations subside, and when they do, you collapse back onto the mattress, the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm you.

You're dimly aware of the fact that Wolffe is still moving, his thrusts becoming frantic. It's a matter of moments before he follows you, and his whole body goes rigid, the muscles of his abdomen tensing. He lets out a low moan, the sound deep and rumbling before the warmth of his release fills you. He keeps moving, drawing the pleasure out until the last of his release has been spent, and it's a few moments before he finally stills.

Wolffe lets out a long exhale and leans forward, his weight settling on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You wrap your arms around him, and your hands find the nape of his neck, your fingers threading through his hair.

The two of you lie there for a while, neither one of you speaking. Your limbs are heavy, the ache in your core pulsing. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, and you can't help but sigh, the exhaustion catching up with you.

Eventually, Wolffe shifts, his head turning to press a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs.

You nod, and he pushes himself up, his body moving away from yours. You miss the contact immediately, the warmth of his skin, the smell of him, and you can't help but reach for him.

"Wolffe..."

He chuckles. "I'll be back."

He slides off the bed and stands, the mattress shifting. His body is silhouetted by the light from the candles, and he moves across the room, disappearing into the refresher. He returns a few minutes later with a damp cloth.

"Up," he murmurs, and his hands find the back of your knees, the touch firm. You let him move you, the cloth warm as he wipes away the remnants of the two of you. When he's done, he tosses the cloth aside and moves around the room, extinguishing the candles and grabbing a clean shirt from the shelf.

You sit up, wincing at the twinge in your muscles. Wolffe turns, holding the shirt in his hands.

"Here," he says.

You accept the garment and slip it over your head. The fabric is worn, the collar loose, and the sleeves hang over your hands. It's comfortable, and the scent of him surrounds you, making your heart clench.

"Better?" he asks, his mouth curved into a smirk.

"Much," you reply as a yawn escapes you.

He reaches for the sheets, pulling them up.

"Get in," he says, and you slip under the covers. He does the same, the mattress dipping under his weight. Wolffe rolls onto his side and pulls you close, his arm draped over your waist. The two of you trade soft kisses, and he brushes the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Sleep," he whispers.

"Don't want to," you murmur. "Not yet."

He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, his fingers threading through your hair.

"You need to rest."

You let out a soft sigh and bury your face in the crook of his neck, his pulse beating beneath the thin skin. "Don't like the dreams."

Wolffe stiffens, his body tensing, and he's quiet for a long moment. The silence is deafening, and you wonder if you've said too much. You hadn't meant to. Not tonight.

"I don't like them either," he says, his voice hoarse.

You know what they are, how vivid and real they can be. You'd heard him wake more than once, watched him gasp for air, his eyes wide, his expression terrified. And he'd comforted you more than once when the strange visions found you in your sleep, the two of you laying in the dark, clinging to each other, afraid to let go.

You'd tried not to think about what it might mean. How it had gotten to this point. Whether the nightmares would ever end.

If you could survive the war.

"Sorry," you mumble, your voice barely audible, the words muffled against his skin.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Still."

"No," he says firmly. There’s a beat, and then he sighs, the sound weary. "I hate watching you struggle. Hate not being able to do anything."

"You are doing something,” you whisper. You pull back, propping yourself up on your elbow, and the two of you look at each other. He reaches up, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

"Doesn't feel like it," he murmurs. "Sometimes I worry..."

He trails off, and the look in his eye makes your heart clench. You can't help but lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocates, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, and you kiss him again. And again.

"You have no idea how important this is," he says as the two of you break apart.

"What is?"

"Being here," he replies. "Holding you."

Your throat tightens. "Wolffe..."

He gives you a small smile, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I've always been good at taking orders. Even before I met you. Before the war."

"Is that right?"

He hums, his gaze focused on his thumb.

"It's what I'm trained to do," he says. "It's what I was bred for. It's why they created us."

"I don't think they planned for this," you murmur, and it's an effort to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

He frowns. "What?"

You reach up, your fingers trailing along his temple, his scars soft. The sight of him in his armor had been intimidating at first. Terrifying, even. The way he held himself, his expression hard, his jaw set, his demeanor unreadable. But now?

Now, the thought of him putting it on was heartbreaking.

"For you to want more,” you whisper.

He's quiet for a long moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle, and he cups the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. You return the pressure, trying to convey what you're feeling. What you've always felt.

Wolffe's the most incredible man you've ever met. He's strong and brave and kind. Loyal and fierce and protective. And you would give anything to give him the life he deserves. The life he should have.

When he pulls back, the look in his eye is fierce.

"This is the only order I've ever disobeyed," he murmurs. "The only thing I've ever wanted to break the rules for. To rebel. To choose for myself."

And he doesn't have to elaborate.

Your heart skips a beat, the words making your chest ache. The first night you'd spent together had changed everything. The two of you had known the risk, you'd known what would happen if you got caught. But neither of you had cared. You'd been helpless to resist, the tension finally becoming too much.

It had been an act of defiance.

A way to rebel against the orders you'd both been given and the path your lives had taken.

You'd done it again and again. The two of you had fallen into bed more times than you could count, and every encounter had been the same. And now, with the war coming to a close, with the fighting reaching a fever pitch, the two of you were running out of time.

"Wolffe..."

"And I'd do it again," he whispers. "In a heartbeat. And I'm not sorry."

The words make you shiver. They're so similar to what he'd said when the two of you had first laid together. When the two of you had surrendered to the connection between you, unable to resist the pull.

You can feel tears start to prick your eyes, and it’s a struggle not to let them fall.

"Me neither," you whisper, your voice thick.

He reaches up and brushes the stray tear that had escaped away, his thumb leaving a trail of warmth against your skin. You swallow hard, and he pulls you closer, his hand moving to the back of your head.

"You need to sleep," he murmurs. "We're leaving early tomorrow."

You nod, and the two of you adjust, shifting into a more comfortable position. He curls around you, his body solid and warm, and his arm wraps around your waist, his palm flat against your stomach. The slow, steady rhythm of his breathing begins to lull you, and your eyelids grow heavy, your vision blurring.

"Don't let go," you whisper.

He tugs you closer, his face pressed against the back of your neck.

"Never."

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#wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #the clone wars #clone trooper wolffe #clone x reader #roy writes #i love them but they also make me so sad #i had a request for a post order 66 with them and i might write more #however not entirely confident they have a happy ending...

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pulsarsatellite · 2 years ago

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Clear Skies

The FINAL CHAPTER of Days of Laughs and Nights of Screams is now up to read on AO3!

You can read the last chapter here!

Chapter Snippet:

Keep reading

#orbits of fancy (reblog)#gif #live reacting in the tags because i feel like it and i love this fic so much #please don't look if you haven't read #I'M CONFLICTED. I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE THE FINALE BUT NOT READY FOR IT TO EEEEND #I'm going to cry at the end of this I can feel it already #ooh new assistant! and I'm glad to see Dave's still keeping his role too #i'm laying face down in my floor over Moon having a gifted journal for him to write all his stories and poems in #EMILY BEING BROUGHT BACK TOO AAAAA-#hehehe Moon can't resist a good mischief of playing when others are sleeping. at least a LITTLE good mischief #the purring makes another appearance and I can't help but think of him as a big dad cat curling around tiredly rambunctious cubs #“”“secretly”“” “”“”“”A LITTLE“”“”“ HAPPY THAT CRAZY WOMAN CAN'T PICK UP/BE AROUND EMILY MY ASS. EVERYONE IS ECSTATIC OVER THAT #MASON AS PB AND BUNNY'S HANDLER IS SO GOOD #I'm kicking my feet at the nickname 'Peebs' it's so damn cute #just imagine a really long string of 'EEEEEE' cause that's all that's happening here. Just over everything happening.#oh no. y'all gonna be there forever listening to the LORE #THE FRAMED PHOTO. Honestly yea that tracks. That WOULD be our favorite picture we love our animatronic family members so damn much #one last 'CARLOS MY BELOATHED' I'm sure your crazy ass can't be kept in prison but here's to hoping #Still going through the healing process all of us it seems. doing much much much better now though even after a little bit of time <3 #Exactly! It takes time! Time we can -afford- now that there's probably nothing lurking under the surface of the park #I hear the Jaws theme. And kisses are the chum in the water. DUN DUN #Aw but the corrupt justice system bit is so good. But You have me very intrigued with this mermaids and pirates suggestion #DAMSEL IN ''DISTRESS'' SUNNY GOT ME CACKLING #Moonie hopping in place being one of his tells that he's excited to be a little trickster devil is everything #'one race won't hurt' MOON THE ANKLE #AAAAWWWWW THAT WAS SWEET. You're still a devil tho Moonman.#DUCK I'M DYING HOW DARE YOU EXPLOIT MY WEAKNESS FOR CLOSING SENTENCES BEING THE TITLES OF STORIES #I'm throwing a bunch of hearts at you i'm care you and love your creations I'll say it a million more times #THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR CREATING THIS WONDERFUL ADVENTURE I'M GO CRY NOW

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month ago

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Tit For Tat

Santiago Pope Garcia x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 15: Against a Wall

Summary: You and Santi sneak off.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating.

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 460

Santi moans loudly, his head thrown back, his back pressed against the wall. His jeans are down by his thighs from where you tugged them, low and nearly at the knee. There’s the beginning hint of one of his surgery scars just peeking out at the edge of the material.

His unbuckled belt taps rhythmically against the fly as you bob your head, sucking him as deep into your mouth as you can.

You jerk him in time with your mouth, caressing the inches you can swallow down while you lightly knead and squeeze his heavy balls.

“Baby,” he groans, biting his lip as he bucks weakly into the heat of your mouth. “Please, I’m gonna…” He sucks in a deep breath as you moan lightly, the sound reverberating along his skin.

He wants to hold off, wants to let you play with him as long as you wish, forever if you wanted. God, he would do anything you wanted.

He knows he’s meant to be keeping vaguely quiet. The walls aren’t that thin and pretty much everyone is in the garden outside, but even so, he’s getting dangerously close to too loud. But he just can’t help himself, can’t gather together enough brain cells that haven't been overloaded by the feeling of your lips and tongue along his cock to care.

His balls tighten, drawing up as his length pulses and grows impossibly harder.

“Gonna come…” He whines, his breath catching in his throat.

He’s not used to this, not used to being given things so completely. Not used to being the one that’s pressed against surfaces and pampered with pleasure.

Not used to someone not expecting anything in return.

But, oh boy, how he was going to return it.

He was going to get you down completely flat on your back on the floor with his head between your legs and make you come and come and come and-

He cries out softly, bucks weakly as his orgasm floods his veins and he spurts hot, thick cum into your eager mouth.

You moan around him, swallowing eagerly as he shivers and shakes. Only pulling back as he sighs and slumps forward ever so slightly.

You’re grinning up at him when he looks at you.

“You trying to let everyone know you’re getting your dick sucked?” You tease and he scoffs, grinning.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, still breathing deeply. “Was I that bad?”

You shake your head. “There’s still some plausible deniability.”

He snorts, slowly sinking down onto the floor next to you. His heart warms when you reach out to help him. “Yeah, well, there won’t be.”

“What?” He grabs you, making you chuckle as he pulls you into a searing kiss. “‘Cause I’m about to make you scream.”

Thank you for reading!

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peggyao3 · 3 months ago

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Relic - Pt. 7 "The Iceberg"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

A/N: I had to use my entire brain cell to write this one 🧠 Hope you're ready for some ✨LORE✨

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter, Next Chapter →

Giedi Prime, Day 1, later

This shouldn't feel so awkward.

Two hours after her arrival, Feyd and her are still in her room, seated on the couch. The cushions are wrapped in squeaky leather and her gown is too tight at the waist. She yearns for trousers and a shirt but doesn't dare open her coffer and change into her old sleeper clothes, because should she ask Feyd to turn around? Or simply undress?

The room with its black within black interior strangely reminds her of an insect burrow, molded out of plastic.

They've had a meal delivered to them half an hour ago by female helpers (slaves) without a personality and the empty plates are stacked on the coffee table. It had been nice while they were eating, giving them both something to do with no pressure to think of topics.

What would she even ask him? So, what was it like growing up on this planet I've never heard about? What do you even do here and please tell me anything about your culture, because I have no idea?

What would he even ask her? So, what was it like on old Earth, your old home that's lost forever? What kind of horrible war was that that made you flee to space and how exactly did you end up with the Bene Gesserit and survive for 24,000 years?

It's astounding how they've spent half a year together in their dreams and loved each other, yet managed to avoid anything that might give away their identity, hiding dirty secrets from each other.

Whenever she looks at him, new heat rises to her chest and her heart hammers like crazy. It obscenely feels like meeting your long distance boyfriend in person for the first time and the person you've known so well is suddenly a familiar stranger.

Every once in a while, Feyd takes a deep breath, head twitching forwards to close the distance between them and kiss her on her sweet lips, but the longer he waits, the greater the force that holds him back. She seems different, frightened and overwhelmed and like half of her mind is someplace else when he should be the center of her attention right now.

Every once in a while, she glances at Feyd's hands longingly, imagining to just reach out and hold them, but the longer she waits, the more difficult it becomes. He seems different, reserved and anxious, like he's weighing every word and action ten times before executing it.

There is also, naturally, a bed in her room and its mere presence has been making her flustered and nervous. They've both been looking at it in secret this entire afternoon and pointedly acting like it isn't there, pretending not to think about how they've already touched and explored each other everywhere. And yet they haven't. Not really.

She takes a deep breath, striking up a conversation. "What was that creature in the corner of the audience chamber?"

"Oh. That was my uncle's pet." Feyd's tone is apologetic. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Did it scare you? It's not dangerous."

"Didn't you say you… Killed it?"

"That's a longer story, I'm afraid." A muscle in Feyd's jaw twitches with a thousand thoughts and stories untold.

"But you did kill a pet of your uncle?" Horrified, she thinks, what if we did not actually have the same dreams? What if this reality is not quite like it should be?

But Feyd calms that worry quickly. "Oh yes, I did. More than once."

Shouldn't he have said 'more than one'?

"That's the joy of having a genetically engineered pet," he says without a trace of joy.

"Is that what Tleilaxu-fashioned means?"

"Yes." Feyd tilts his head curiously. "Aren't you horrified at all?"

"We did have a fair bit of genetic engineering at home, though that's not exactly my field of expertise." She briefly looks over her shoulder to where her cryo pod lies. The rectangle of sun has moved a fair bit. "But I've never seen anything like that creature."

The fact that Old Earth was capable of biological engineering is astounding to Feyd, but she keeps looking so longingly at the bulky, coffin-shaped thing and he fails not to become jealous of the inanimate object.

"What's up with that thing?" Feyd finally asks, finding a bit of his bravery and scooting closer to her. Her head snaps back to him, finding him less far away than he was before and her gaze drops to his lips and the tempting curve of his cupid's bow. Her breath hitches.

"It's just…" She takes an even deeper breath, perhaps her deepest one yet. Feyd watches her mouth as she speaks. "Would you help me with something?"

"Of course," he frowns. "Anything."

She hesitates for a moment and then bravely slips her fingers into his hand. "Are you… as afraid of technology as everyone here?"

"No," Feyd declares immediately, despite not being sure if that is actually the truth. But he wants to be his woman's confidant, more than anything.

"Okay, then…" She stands and tugs on his hand. Feyd follows her obediently towards the vessel which had preserved her for 24,000 years and released her unharmed. She kneels down in front of it and so does Feyd, warily. The stiff military uniform he still wears is uncomfortable at the knees.

She prompts: "Could you please shave my hair just over the ear right here? I'd do it myself but it's a tricky spot. I can't see it properly. Just a small stripe." She indicates with her fingers over her right ear. Feyd had expected many things, but not this. She bends to her little coffer and unclasps it. "There should be a multi-tool with a blade somewhere in here- Oh!"

Feyd has whipped his kukri from the holster under his jacket, presenting it with the sharp tip pointing upwards. One pale, blue eye regards her proudly from behind the curved blade that had been polished and whetted in the morning.

"That w-works too." She offers the side of her head to him, trembling when long fingers brush tenderly over her scalp, sectioning the area she had asked him to shave. He finds the hair in that area to be shorter than the remaining hair.

Her Feyd will be careful and not cut her. She suppresses the shiver that runs down her spine and into her core, nervous like it's the first time he's touching her. Silver glints at the corner of her eye and the whirring sound of strands being cut so close to her ear is momentarily louder than her heartbeat. Severed hair pelts softly on her shoulder.

Meanwhile, she deftly twists the cuboid capsule attached to her necklace and a tiny mechanism sussurates. The capsule comes apart and reveals a slim, shiny plate.

"What's that?" Feyd murmurs, brushing the pad of his thumb softly across a tiny slit he's found beneath the millimeter of hair that's still left.

"My port."

Jittery, she brings her hand up, shooing Feyd's away so she can trace the slit. Feyd notices her undone capsule pendant and the tiny rectangle in her hand.

"And what's that?"

"My chip. I had to take it out for the cryogenic sleep." She frowns, fingering around the area some more. "The port is overgrown. We had to have it sealed to protect the electronics."

"Are you a computer?"

She bursts out laughing so brightly that Feyd can't help but grin and his cheeks do the thing that they haven't done in so long.

"Oh dear, no! Where and when I'm from, everyone had one of these. You're technically only half a human without it. I've felt so naked…" She looks at him earnestly. "Could you cut it open for me, please?"

Feyd nods slowly, lifting the blade. The invitation to cut her elicits a twitch of his groins. He hasn't felt anything like his in so long, no enticing spark, not even when he tried to touch himself... His woman trusts him, so he will trust her chip.

She flinches when the blade tip comes close. "A-Are you sure you don't want to have the multi-tool for that?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Feyd moves closer, nose only centimeters away from her head. The pointy tip of his kukri tickles her scalp. "You need to keep still."

"I know, I'm just- Agh!" She flinches again.

"I haven't even cut you yet." He tries once more.

"Ouch! I'm sorry, I can't control it." Feyd nearly cuts where he isn't supposed to cut.

"Stop jerking around, my darling!" He determinedly reaches around her head with his free hand, stabilizing her and utilizing the fact that she's momentarily dumbstruck by the nickname, finally uttered in reality. She hisses when the blade precisely penetrates her scalp, just one millimeter deep. The skin is thin and bleeds only a little. Feyd is tempted to rasp his tongue over the cut and suckle her blood off the electronics inside, but he withdraws.

"And this is… safe?"

"Yes, don't worry. Most people don't remove their chips for several years, so the port has to be cut open when they need a replacement."

Her face is so full of elation when she lifts the chip and slots it into the port that Feyd can't help but hold his breath, excited with her. His hand slides around her back, coming to rest on the crook of her arm. He scans her for change, unsure what to expect. Perhaps the soul of a machine flickering to life in her eyes, but she remains entirely the same.

Only her face brightens like she's seen paradise.

A virtual interface flickers into existence in front of her eyes, looking at the cryo pod. The world used to be so full of these interfaces, but now she looks into an electronic void that makes her feel lonely and empty. It's just her and the pod. The only surviving human and piece of technology from Earth.

"What, what is it?" Feyd urges, scanning her face alertly.

"I used to communicate with the world with this," she murmurs. "Now there is… Nothing. I can only communicate with my sarcophagus."

"So, it's a transmitter?"

"It's a transmitter and so much more. With a little bit of fiddling, perhaps I could link myself up to your satellites someday. This chip used to give me access to everything. Communication, information, entertainment, data processing, calculations. It's all virtually displayed in front of my own eyes. I can read, watch films, work... It has an in-built hard-drive, so not all is lost, at least." A piece of home.

"So, you're no computer, but that chip is?"

She weighs her words, head swaying left and right. "It is a small computer, if you will, but it has nothing on the processing power of-"

"That's heresy," Feyd hisses, moving right in front of her face. She notices the tight set of his jaws but also the glint of temptation in his eyes, scanning her like she's a sweet poison apple.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"I won't. It'll be our secret. I swear it on my honor." She knows so many secrets of his, he will keep all of hers in a silver cage in his chest, twice locked. Feyd reaches for her face, softly grazing his fingertips against her jaw, but her gaze is faraway, drifting downwards diagonally.

The messages folder in the lower right corner of the interface taunts her with the promise of memories. Messages received from friends and family, the echo of her old life. Suffocating sorrow threatens to overwhelm her when she realizes this folder will never blink again with new messages and the contacts of loved ones in there are nothing but husks of the past.

"What do you see there?"

"Nothing," she replies earnestly. "Just memories."

"Look at me…" She follows the prompt of his soft voice. "What does it say when you look at me?"

"Hmm." Shyly, she focuses her attention on Feyd's face, lifting her hand and splaying her fingers across his soft cheek. Immediately, his lids drop halfway and she feels the weight of his head against her hand, relaxed. "First of all, nothing, because you don't have a chip." The tip of her index finger rubs over the smooth skin above his ear.

With the electric current of a thought skipping across neurons, she selects an application from the vast array. "But it has a tool that allows me to scan the environment. It's helpful for identifying flora and fauna."

"So, what sort of fauna am I?" Feyd mumbles, cheek still against her palm. A half-transparent box flickers to life in the virtual space above his head.

"Human," she declares and smiles. "See, no fucking Bene Gesserit torture test required to find that out."

That causes Feyd to stir and he snatches her wrist with one hand and cups her face with the other, pulling their foreheads close. "They tested you?!"

"You know about the tests? Are they… A common thing?" Her heart pounds loudly in her chest.

"I don't know how common. But they tested me too, last week. Said I couldn't have you unless I passed the test."

For a brief moment she catches herself wishing Feyd had plunged his daunting blade into the Bene Gesserit sister after the test. Feyd seems quite content with the vitriolic expression in her eyes, exhaling softly against her mouth, lashes half-lowered. His heart pounds quickly and he wonders if this is the right time to sleep with his woman and cover every inch of her body with himself, explore her real flesh until every square inch of her is covered with his handprints.

"Why are we sitting on the floor in front of this pod, my darling?"

"Because now that I've got my chip, I can finally get my things."

Feyd regrets that he said anything, because now she pulls away, attention diverted to the metal behemoth of a coffin. "What about your-?" He points towards the small coffer.

"Only odds and ends in there. My old cryo suit, the multi tool, couple of necessities the sisterhood gave to me. You know, a toothbrush and such," she rambles while establishing the personal area network between herself and the sarcophagus. The batteries have been holding up well for 24,000 years in space. She must have grazed the gravitational periphery of multiple suns which have fed energy into the cryo pod's solar panels. The pod was at 20% when she exited it on Wallach IX, puking and shivering after being woken. In Giedi Prime's unforgiving sun, it has already climbed up to 50% within a few hours.

The tethering is complete and the CryoSysTM system (evil tongues will say it pronounces like crisis) immediately recognizes her chip and her as the occupant of this pod and a rank 3 member of the International Spacing Cooperation of Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia, America and Luna, short ISCO.

On the virtual interface, she enters the passcode which she remembers by heart and completes the triplicate identification process by pressing her thumb on one of the four, small scanner panels.

Welcome, Astronaut M2-84.

Feyd flinches when the sarcophagus buzzes to life with a heavy, electronic sound and a segment in its lower half clicks open along what he had thought welt joints so far.

The relic reaches into cargo compartment 2 which had obediently opened upon her command. Feyd squints his eyes, frowning at the strange item she removes. A fuzzy thing with plump arms and legs which she squeezes against her chest.

Is it delusional to think it still smells of home? But somehow it does and she can't help the tears that burn in her eyes.

"What is that?" Feyd tries to pry the thing out of her arms, but she fiercely resists.

"That's mine!" She flinches away, then adds more softly: "That's my stuffed animal."

"Oh. Ah. What can it do?"

"Nothing." She looks up with surprise and Feyd's eyes widen a smidge. "Have you never had one?"

Feyd thinks: Maybe. But he says: "This must be something we don't have anymore… nowadays."

"Hmmph." She highly doubts that. But she can imagine a childhood on this planet must be extremely different. "Well, it's mine and it's very personal to me, so please don't do anything that would damage it or I'll never forgive you."

"Okay!" Feyd reassures her quickly, taken aback. Her voice sounds so tearful all of a sudden and it puzzles him that one can be so attached to an object. It almost makes him jealous. Not directly of the stuffed animal, but of the fact that there was happiness in her old home. Happiness acquired through soft and useless things. How badly he wants that. But he doesn't even dare request a softer blanket for his room. Perhaps if she asked for him, he could have one…

Feyd will not touch the stuffed animal, even though it looks very soft. He touches his woman's back instead, sliding his arm around her so she leans against his side.

"Thank God I placed him in the high-security compartment." She looks at the fuzzy thing. "And my diary. The Bene Gesserit put my pod through its paces, but couldn't get past the outer shell." She taps the slit above her ear.

If Feyd had such emotional objects, he'd keep them in the high-security compartment as well. Which is why the security for the palace has been doubled and the guards for this corridor alone tripled since her arrival.

"So, what would you have done if the witches had found and touched your little… friend there?" He grins, face conspiratorially close to hers, hoping to see maybe a sliver of that pretty violence again.

"That's not the problem," she shakes her head, squishing the plushie in her hands. Her heart pitter-patters from the closeness of Feyd's mouth near her cheek.

"Obviously, I don't only keep useless items in here." The look she gives him then is sly and Feyd's hairless brows shoot up. "I stopped asking for my necklace when I realized that computers are… Demonized. These pods were meant to preserve my people on our way from Earth deeper into the solar system, letting us sleep in a frozen slumber to skip the time. But each pod is also a fully equipped emergency capsule with all the necessities one might need as a stranded astronaut on a foreign world."

"Astronaut," he repeats the word uttered in a foreign language which sounds ancient to him. "How many like you were there?"

"We were twelve ships, 100 sleeping astronauts aboard each, all headed to new worlds. Mine was the Magellan II, headed to Mars. Do your aircrafts have names?" Feyd shakes his head. "Ah, well. Traditions do change within 24,000 years I suppose."

"So, you left Earth to colonize the solar system, is that what you were trying to tell me on our last night?"

"That's right." She shivers at the memory. Her family and colleagues hadn't understood why she was crying so hard the whole morning before climbing into her sarcophagus to sleep. "I wasn't sure if I could dream in cryo sleep. The journey to Mars would have taken three years." Pleadingly, she turns to Feyd, startled by his proximity. "And how could I have told you I was leaving when you were doomed to die on earth? The program was scorned by the public, they said we're worse than terrorists."

So, she did leave him deliberately, Feyd notes almost matter-of-factly. But he isn't hurt, because her departure is the cause for his woman being here and he can convince her of his love every day for the rest of their lives, so that if the opportunity arises to leave him again, she will choose to stay with him.

A suspicious thought overcomes her. "I dreamed of you the months leading up to our departure. When did you dream of us?" He looks exactly like in the dreams, only a bit more tense around the edges. And no scar on his neck.

"The dreams stopped two years ago. And until one week ago, I had no idea if I'd ever see you again." He exhales deeply, eyes flitting across her face.

A frown spreads across her forehead. "Two years ago, the Bene Gesserit thawed me after receiving my cryo pod from the Guild. So, you've been dreaming while I was… asleep."

How odd. The timing seems to make little sense.

Feyd can see it in her eyes, how intrigued she is, already trying to understand and unravel the mysteries like back then. But Feyd has bigger concerns and looks only at her lips.

"And why are you here with me now, and not on Mars, 24000 years ago?"

"That's what I've been dying to find out."

Again, she pulls away from him before he can kiss her and Feyd silently curses himself. A muscle across his jaw tenses. It bugs him that he can't see what she can see, makes him feel excluded. Her eyes dart about, then squint as if she's reading. Feyd manages to keep quiet for a minute.

"What?" He eventually snaps, staring at her from the side.

"Well…" Her voice sounds small and disappointed. "It's what I expected. An emergency protocol released my pod after critical hull damage."

Pensively, she kneads her own palms, staring at the virtual interface. Perhaps the others are still out there. Perhaps by some miracle they have survived the cryogenic sleep for much longer than what should be possible as well, and the folder in the corner of her interface will someday blink again.

The truth is, death has most certainly found everyone she's loved, embraced them with silent arms in their sarcophagi, cells turned to ice and withered away in the cold, endless night of the universe. A lonely and peaceful death, much more peaceful than the life that awaits her.

It was the program she was a part of that sparked the human advance into the universe. And she lives to see its terrible fruit.

"Why were you on that pod?" Feyd murmurs from the side. "What made you so special?"

Finally, she turns her head to face him again. "Because I helped build them."

"You?" A subtle frown crinkles the milky skin between his brows.

"Oh, yes. Where I'm from, women aren't just slaves. I'm a trained engineer."

And as the smart ship grew In stature, grace, and hue, In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too. - The Convergence of the Twain by Thomas Hardy

A/N: Yes, hello, I'd like to have one helping of Neuralink meets Cyberpunk 2077. To everyone who's not a trained engineer, myself included: We've got this! And also: Who is the ship and who is the iceberg here? 🤭

TAG LIST:

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @charmingballoon,

@minedofmoria, @flower-frog, @welliah, @coastalcowgirl35, @sebastianswallows

Do let me know if you'd like me to tag you for this series or for Feyd fics in general 🫶

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silly-little-soul · 5 months ago

Text

Shane accepting himself as a dad

A/N – “Little” thought dump I wrote at the hairdresser today, I'll probably continue it when I find the time

I haven't played sdv in forever cause I can't find the charger of my switch I miss it

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Fandom: Stardew Valley (Shane x gn!Reader/Farmer)

Summary: Thoughts on the lead-up to Shane and Jas moving in with you

Tags: established relationship, tbh reader appears like thrice maybe, some fluff, some angst, some reverse comfort, no beta we die like my activity

Warnings: Some talks about alcoholism and mental illness cause it's Shane, a shit lot of miscommunication, brief talk of Shane and Farmer having own kids, death mention

Note: It got too long so I didn't get to the part where reader/farmer would've been more prominent so this is very focused on the dynamic between Shane, Jas and Marnie

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Thinking about how in the game when you marry Shane he doesn't take Jas with him

I wish she could live on the farm with you, but let’s actually look at that scenario and Marnie's place in it

Shane is Jas’ official caretaker, but with how his mental health and alcohol consume used to be he definitely wasn’t able to fully take care of her, I’m guessing Marnie did most of that. Like Shane DOES really care for her and did what he could, it just wasn’t enough when he got worse. Simultaneously he saw Marnie care for her the way he wished he could've and it just seemed so effortless (it wasn’t, she was just grieving differently). It made him feel like he could retreat from his parental role, have Marnie take it and stop himself from pulling Jas down with him, he didn’t want to be selfish and put her well-being at risk just to be the one playing parent.

Honestly, he was probably right in that decision, he couldn’t have fully cared for a child.

But it’s different now, he’s better now, he’s ready.

He starts spending more time with her again, no longer feeling like he’s a risk to her, no longer being so ashamed. He takes on tasks like making lunch and bringing her to bed more often.

He doesn’t even notice it until Jas, Marnie or you point it out, might write a scenario for that at some point but let’s move on for now

Anyway, he realizes he’s taken the role of a parent for her. And then you give him the mermaid pendant, and he’s so happy that everything is slowly working out.

When he comes home and tells Marnie she is quick to pull him into a tight hug, she’s so happy he’s managing to really turn his life around.

Jas is so so excited, asking when they'll move to the farm

Shane wants to have her come right with him, he's talked to you about it and you were quick to tell him you'd be happy to have her, but he realizes he should really talk to Marnie about that first.

So they kinda just redirect her question.

Later though they sit together and talk about the upcoming change of Shane's living situation.

At Shane’s declaration of wanting to take Jas right with him, Marnie is hesitant and gently suggests that might not be the best idea.

Shane believes it’s because Jas has become a daughter to her, something he actively pushed to happen by making her take all responsibility for the little girl (and for him too, actually), and he figures he doesn’t really have the right to take Jas from her after she has been the one taking care of her for so long.

Except that isn’t the reason at all. Marnie has never seen herself as Jas’ mom. She loves Jas a lot of course and she’ll surely miss her a lot once she moves, but she has never not seen Shane as the one to be Jas’ new parent.

She wants this for both Shane and Jas, but she’s just so worried. She’s seen Shane at his worst and all that has lead up to it, seen him almost get better but then fail again more often than she’d like to have.

She’s honestly more worried about Shane than Jas. What if Shane takes on too much responsibility at once? His new role as a husband, the changes that come with living on the farm, and then he'll also be fully responsible for Jas? She's worried he'll end up feeling overwhelmed and get worse again. And then if Jas sees it this time, oh gosh... (Okay, maybe it is about Jas)

Now bear with me it's about to get a little confusing

Shane doesn't know that's the reason, Marnie doesn't tell him outright to not upset him.

So when she brings up the hint of “are you sure? She can stay here some longer too” he thinks it's because of her relationship with Jas and he's just like “yeah y'know maybe that works” because he doesn't want to take Jas from her after making Marnie take care of her so long, however she thinks it's because he really does think it'd be too much at once.

So they're like “okay good talk” and go their ways and while Marnie is like “okay cool I'll help some more till he feels able to care for her fully” Shane is knocking on your door having half a breakdown like “I fucked up I'll never get to take on the role of her father”

On a side note, he went to the farm and not the saloon, and both of you have a brief moment of gratitude for the fact so let's take a second to appreciate him for that too

Alright, he has been appreciated

But yeah, I kinda hc their communication isn't great in general. It's not for lack of trying (not anymore, it used to be a factor when Shane wasn't doing well) or something causing arguments, it's more so a thing where the two talk and then think everything is fine when they in reality have talked past each other so hard.

It's usually silly, small stuff like chores or something and resolved with a quick clarification and doesn't cause issues – except this time it did.

Anyway, he's at your doorstep, kinda having a breakdown.

You let him in of course, get him some water, gently tell him to calm down and tell you what happened.

His explanation is not very coherent, consisting mainly of him repeating how he fucked up, it might very well spiral into a full on panic attack.

Shane's not usually someone to panic but this is about Jas, who is the most important thing in the world to him, not to forget the only way he knew how to cope is kind of gone.

After a while he manages to explain what's going on more clearly, how he so badly wants to care for Jas the way he should have from the start, but he can't because he made mistakes he can't fix, how Marnie has taken that role and is entirely reasonable in wanting to keep it.

Then he breaks down again.

You don't really know what to do, he's in a terrible state, and what can you say? If the situation was truly how Shane presented it (which you assumed of course) there wouldn't really be much you could do to help.

You end up calling his therapist, he's against the idea at first but caves at your pleading look.

He's put you in situations in which you had to try help him with no idea how to before, hell he's made you fear for his life with this kind of bullshit before! He doesn't want you to go through that again.

In the beginning you sit with him, help explain to his therapist what happened, let Shane lay his head on your chest while talking to her.

When after a while he is much calmer you go make his favorite dinner, waiting for him to finish the phone call.

They make an appointment for Saturday and Shane hangs up, wordlessly coming over to you and letting himself fall into your arms. You have dinner and go to bed, deciding it's better for him to stay with you tonight, and maybe also the next few day. You'll figure out how to go on about this on Saturday.

Meanwhile Marnie has no idea about all of this and tells Jas about the decision (she thinks) they made, how Shane will move to the farm but needs some time to “settle in” as she calls it, and then Jas can move there too later on.

She's bummed about not getting to come along right away but is generally okay with the idea, not much bothered.

This whole misunderstanding is only really revealed when Jas and Shane cross parts the next time. This could be several days later, or the next one which I'm gonna go with.

Unfortunately for Shane, Jas was already planned to come to the farm that day to “help” (aka pet your animals) so she shows up there in the morning and it's. A bit awkward. Not that she'd notice, though.

Inevitably the topic of Shane moving to the farm comes up. It's in bypassing, it doesn't really matter how, but it causes even more chaos.

She says something about how she'll miss him when he moves to the farm, which feels like a punch in the gut to him, cause he doesn't even know she just means in the short while till he gets her over there too.

He tries not to let it show in front of her, it's not her fault, so he tries to play over his reaction by saying something along the lines of “I'll miss you too, but you and Marnie can come visit. If the farmer and me start a family you can come over and-”

And like damn. Not the best thing he could've said in that situation.

Cause up until just know she thought she was coming after him like a month or something later!

Jas' eyes fill with tears and she has such a look of betrayal on her face Shane doesn't even finish his sentence.

“You don't want me here?”

And he's just like fuck lol

In retrospect he doesn't actually know what Marnie told Jas and how she explained the decision to her. Thinking about it she probably didn't exactly go “Hey actually Shane used to be a good for nothing alcoholic so I decided I'm your mom”

But wait, does Jas want to stay with him on the farm?

Because yeah wait!! He did not consider that and how she feels about this.

Meanwhile Jas is now also a victim of the miscommunication between Marnie and Shane (aren't we all?)

Before Shane can think of something to say she's bolting, running back home.

You - who watched the interaction happen - and Shane go after her, coming to the ranch to find Jas crying in her bed with Marnie sitting next to her and trying to coax her into explaining what happened. When she sees you she moves away from her, figuring you two must have a better idea of what's going on.

Shane takes Marnie's place and asks Jas why she's crying.

She looks up at him with a heartbreaking expression and says “You said you'll start a family, but what about me?” (not rlly like that but I suck at dialogue)

And Shane is like “Marnie is your family”

I love him but.... shut up, Shane!!

That blow was so hard both you and Marnie could feel it!

In his defense, he realizes that was dumb as fuck like immediately after.

“I mean... fuck, she's been a mom for you so long, way more than I ever was, I can't just take you away now”

And Marnie stiffens cause like that's the moment it starts dawning on her something didn't go quite right in their earlier communication. And then you notice her reaction and it starts dawning on you as well and you kinda just look at each other like “oh shit”.

Which Shane and Jas are completely unaware of.

“She's not my mom! I don't want her to by my mom”

And Jas is honestly really irritated by Shane's interpretation of their family dynamic because yeah Marnie has taken care of her a long time and she's really close to her of course but she still never saw her as something other than her aunt, just like Marnie always considered Jas her niece.

“Why don't you want to be my dad?”

It's sort of a breaking point for all four of you.

For Shane it feels like in a matter of seconds he's reliving every moment since the day Jas' parents died. They chose him as the one who'd take in Jas if something happened to them. They could've decided on Marnie, but they didn't. In that moment he realizes that maybe his fear of this parental role he really did want to take not being rightfully his was never about Marnie to begin with.

At the same time, Marnie and you decide to finally intervene. She gently pulls him towards the door, telling him they have to talk, meanwhile you sit with Jas to comfort her.

You let her climb into your lap and hug her, just holding her and waiting for Marnie and Shane to finish talking, until she speaks up again quietly

“Do you not want me on the farm?”

And you're of course immediately telling her you do!! You want her there, you consider her family and she goes “I think Shane doesn't” and like no he does!! He's just stupid!

Except you don't say that to her of course cause don't say that to her.

Meanwhile Marnie is torn between hugging Shane because man he's apparently spent years thinking he has no place as her parent and scolding him cause how the fuck did he spend years thinking he has no place as her parent.

It ends up being the scolding (gently though, she does get where he was coming from).

She explains everything to him, from exactly how she feels about Jas to what she meant when she suggested to have Jas stay with her.

“You're her father now. Her parents chose for you to be and she did too. You're her dad, and nothing you or I do can change that”

And it's wild because he realizes he has always refused those titles. He always talked about his parental role or his role as a father, yeah, but he's never dared call himself her dad. But he is, isn't he?

They have a long talk and Shane learns his place in the family was never a question, while Marnie has her anxiety over Shane taking on too much at once calmed.

They settle on Jas staying at the ranch on weekdays and the farm on weekends for the first month, so he can settle and you can get used to having a child around all the time. After that she'll move to the farm entirely, with the promise to have her stay at Marnie's a bit if Shane ever feels like it's too much for him.

He goes back to Jas' room to explain everything to her and tell her she'll of course come along to his new life.

And when he opens then door he sees you sit with Jas – with his daughter - in your arms, petting her hair comfortingly and he's like yeah.

That's his family.

#sdv shane #sdv shane x farmer #sdv shane x reader #sdv x reader #sdv x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley shane #stardew shane #shane stardew valley #sdv jas #stardew jas #stardew marnie #sdv marnie #x reader

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2demondogs · 19 days ago

Note

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #neutralreader #arthur morgan #ask #oneshot #fluff #sfw #rdr2 #reader insert #proposal fic

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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months ago

Text

Red and Gold

PAIRING || Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 4.1K

SUMMARY || Tony is bringing you along to a charity event, but this time, you decide to surprise him with your outfit. The moment he finds out you're wearing his colors, he has to restrain himself from tearing it off you and having his way with you right then and there.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Sugar Daddy AU. Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark. Sugar Baby!Reader. Heaps and heaps of tooth-rotting fluff.

WARNINGS || Unspecified age gap. Use of nicknames (Sugar). Use of Y/N. Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Sexual tension. Explicit sexual content. Feral Tony Stark. Referenced heartbreak.

SMUT || Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Begging. Praise. Degradation. Hair pulling. Oral (F receiving). Beard burn. Spanking. Semi-public sex. Clothed sex. Rough sex. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Cream pie. Aftercare.

A/N || The idea for this one-shot has been living rent-free in my head, and I am happy to say that with the help of @ccbsrmsf1, this story has finally come to life! This is proofread by the lovely @ccbsrmsf1 as well, for which I'm forever grateful. Thank you for everything you do for me; I love you! 💙

A/N 2.0 || I used writing prompt #2422 from @promptsforthestrugglingauthor while writing this story. From the moment I saw it months ago, I knew I had to use it in a story, and I'm happy to say I finally found the perfect one to incorporate it into! 💙

EVENTS Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book night || "Look At Me." Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book night || Sexual Tension Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Wild || Love Confession Masterlist || @mcukinkbingo || Having sex while clothed

Banners: @nicoline1998enilocin || Divider: @rookthornesartistry || Photo: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark Masterlist || AU Masterlist

Sugar's POV

It's a beautiful day today, and you're sitting outside the coffee shop on your college campus, a hot cup of coffee and a pastry on the table, along with your laptop. On the screen is the face of someone you haven't seen in almost a month but who you miss more than anyone: Tony Stark.

He's seated in his office, his phone propped up as he eats his lunch while talking to you - a habit you two have subconsciously slipped into a few months ago. Seeing how your lunchtimes overlap most of the time, you spend 30 minutes to an hour keeping each other up to date on everything, and today, the topic of conversation is tonight's charity event you're both attending.

"Why won't you hint at your outfit, Sugar? I've already shown you mine, so it's only fair you show me yours," he tries again with a soft smile, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach go wild as you look at him.

"Because, Tony, it's a surprise. I've told you that before, and I'll tell you again now. I want to surprise you tonight because we haven't seen each other outside of FaceTime in a while. And I may have gotten something special that I'd like to hide from you," you say as you wiggle your brows, and Tony's cheeks flush at your teasing.

"Not fair," Tony pouts before taking another bite of his lunch, making you laugh.

"Life's not always fair, sorry," you respond, sipping your coffee as your eyes slip shut. The liquid warms you from the inside out, spreading a content smile.

"Are you sure you won't be able to drive to the event together, Sugar?" Tony tries one last time, and you shake your head. Between classes until 7, getting ready for the event, and meeting Tony beforehand, there won't be enough time to join him, so you will have to meet him on the red carpet.

"I'm sure, Tony. I wish I could, but unless you want me to wear my casual outfit, I prefer to go home first and meet you on the red carpet instead. But I promise you I'll make it worth your while later tonight," you say with a wink, and Tony almost chokes on his food as he realizes what you're referencing.

Just as he's about to respond, a notification on your screen lets you know it's time to head to your next class. A sad feeling settles in your chest as you say goodbye to Tony, whose face shows a hint of disappointment that you must go.

"I can't wait to see you tonight, Sugar. I'm looking forward to seeing what you have in store for me," he says before you both say your last goodbyes and you head to class.

Luckily, the remaining classes seem to fly by, and once it's finally time to go home, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach go wild at the thought of seeing Tony again in an hour or two. Your dress and accessories have been picked out and laid on your bed in preparation, and your hair has been washed this morning to save time.

The moment you step into your apartment, you're running from one place to another to get ready as quickly as possible while eating some leftover pasta salad you made for dinner last night. Your hair is straightened before being put into a ponytail, a few pieces left out to frame your face, and you opt for a red and gold makeup look to finish your look.

Lastly, it's time for your dress: a deep-red off-shoulder gown that reaches down to the floor and has a split on your right side that reaches mid-thigh to show off your leg. Combined with gold jewelry, high heels, and a matching gold bag, you're ready to go on time.

After one last look in the mirror, you hear a car honking outside - letting you know that the car Tony has sent to pick you up has arrived.

"Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N," Happy says with a nod, and you smile at him as you greet him.

"Good evening, Happy. Thank you for picking me up," you tell him before getting in the back of the large car, careful not to bang your head or trip on anything. The second you're seated, you let out a soft sigh, and your heart hammers against your ribcage, trying to escape as the realization sinks in that you're almost reunited with Tony.

But most of all, you're curious to see his reaction because you're wearing red and gold—his colors.

Tony's POV

It's been a long day already for Tony, filled with long meetings, and it's about to become even longer now that he's at the charity event. Pepper has also been asking him countless questions today, and all he wants now is to see you again; he wants a piece of his sweet, beautiful Sugar. At this point, knowing that he'll be reunited with you soon is the only thing that keeps him from walking out of here with zero fucks to give.

He has already passed countless photographers and is now being interviewed. However, he's sure that his answers are barely usable, now that you have completely taken over his thoughts. His mind is miles away from the moment at hand, after all.

Just when the interviewer is about to ask the next question, Happy pulls up in the car he sent to pick you up, and it's all Tony can focus on now. Time seems to have slowed as the door swings open in slow motion, and each of your legs emerges from the large, black vehicle.

First, he sees your golden shoes complementing your skin tone beautifully, and then he sees the bottom of your red, floor-length gown. His heart is hammering against his chest as he's holding his breath in anticipation of the rest of you—which will be gorgeous, without a shadow of a doubt.

Happy extends his hand, and you grab it to get up carefully. Tony sees the dark red nails that match your dress perfectly, and his mind instantly wanders to how they will feel as they scratch his back later, feeling himself chub up in his bright white pants.

Every last drop of blood officially rushes south as you step out of the car and into the spotlight. After thanking Happy for the ride, you face the red carpet with a bright, wide smile on your lips as you spot Tony, and you wave shyly at him before being led to the giant wall of photographers.

Men and women shout your name left, right, and center while Tony can do nothing else but stare at you in absolute awe. The woman interviewing Tony has given up and moved on to someone else, all while he looks like he's nailed to the floor, his jaw slightly slack at the sight of you.

The dress hugs your curves in the best way possible, and Tony's heart beats faster than ever as he looks at you, enjoying yourself on the red carpet. You have joined him enough times, and you two have been the headlines of many tabloids since your arrangement started, so everyone is well aware of who you are.

When you extend your hand towards Tony, letting him know you also want some photos together, he immediately rushes over to where you're standing. If he weren't already deeply in love with you before this moment, he definitely would be now, though he wouldn't dare to admit it out loud. He doesn't want to ruin your relationship, after all.

As soon as your hand makes contact with his, you both feel a shock of electricity going through your body. Tony lifts it to his mouth, kissing the tender skin of the back of your hand, causing a deep red blush to spread across your cheeks, but you also feel superb as he does it. He never fails to make you feel like a princess.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you did this just for me," he says as he looks at you with pure love. His glasses frame his face in a way that makes him look even more handsome than usual, and they complement his bright white suit.

"I told you I wanted to surprise you, and I believe it worked," you say as you reposition yourself against his side, the leg that was exposed by the slit of your dress is bent slightly while your hand covers his arc reactor under his shirt, which helps to ground you a little bit as well.

"Let's get a move on, Sugar. I can't wait any longer to be buried deep inside your tight, sweet pussy," Tony whispers in your ear before grabbing your hand and pulling you away. His heart beats faster with every step, and his cock is straining hard against his pants. Seeing you has made him horny, and he is going to make sure he will have his relief - preferably by burying his thick, hard cock deep inside the hot, tight, velvet walls he's missed so much.

He needs you badly, and he needs you now.

It doesn't take long for Tony to find an empty closet, and without a care in the world, he opens the door before pulling you inside with him and pushing you against it once it's closed. Tony's lips are on yours instantly, and you welcome his tongue immediately, savoring his taste after almost a month of not seeing each other.

The kiss is messy, and it's a combination of tongue and teeth as his fingers glide over your exposed thigh, the other hand pulling your hips against the straining bulge in his pants.

"God, I missed you so fucking much, Sugar. Missed having that perfect little pussy wrapped around my cock, and your lips sucking my soul out through my cock," he pants while he works your panties down your legs, all while your hands are wrapped around his neck, your forehead pressed against his as your breaths are mingling.

"Missed you too, Daddy," you say before capturing his lips to suppress the moan leaving your lips, but he quickly pulls back after hearing you say that.

"What-" is all he can get out before you move your hands from his neck down to his pants, unbuttoning it quickly before pulling out his achingly hard cock. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you look at him with a shimmer of mischief in your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"I need you to fuck me, Daddy, please," you beg softly, and it's exactly what he does. Your dress is quickly pushed up and out of the way so he has the access he needs, and he guides his shaft back and forth through your folds, making you gasp each time it nudges your sensitive clit.

"So fucking wet for me already, huh? Nothing but a dirty, desperate little slut for Daddy to fuck whenever he wants. Letting me fuck you in a closet where everyone can walk in at any moment - I'm sure it makes you fucking drip for me," he says through gritted teeth as he lines up his cock, not pushing in just yet, but letting his hand glide back and forth over his length.

"Y-yes, Daddy! 'M your slut," you tell him in a breathy tone as you look through half-lidded eyes at him, mouth slightly slack as you feel him pumping his cock up and down, your nails digging into his shoulders in anticipation of what's to come.

"If you want to be a good slut for Daddy, you will need to keep quiet for me right now, Sugar," he says, and without any other warning, he shoves his cock in with a single thrust, and his lips instantly crash onto yours to swallow the loud moan that was spilling over.

Tony's thick, strong fingers are digging into your thighs as he thrusts in and out of you at a strong, rapid pace that has your eyes rolling back and your pussy fluttering around his cock, the length of it hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

Your nails are digging harder into Tony's shoulders, and it only spurs him on as he builds both your highs, your orgasms barreling closer at an alarming pace. Suddenly, Tony's mouth is gone from yours, and he carefully grabs your jaw with his right hand, his left one holding you still.

"Look at me, Sugar, look at me when you cum on my cock. Fuck, need you to cum on my cock like the good slut you are for Daddy," he groans, and you nod as soon as your eyes find his intense gaze, the usual dark brown entirely replaced by the black of his pupils.

"Cream my fucking cock, Sugar, and I'll fuck you so full of my cum it'll leak out of you for the rest of the fucking evening, dripping down these delicious thighs of yours before I fuck it right back into this tight, warm pussy when we're in my penthouse," he pants. Still, all you can do is whimper softly as you're trying not to scream as he repeatedly hits your G-spot.

The moment your orgasm washes over you, your nails are digging hard into Tony's shoulders, and his mouth is immediately back on yours as he fucks you through it, your legs trembling heavily in the process. He whispers soft praise as you come down from your high, and it's only when he pulls out that you notice he has cum, too, his seed nestled deep inside you.

"Such a good girl for Daddy; I missed you so much," he whispers as he peppers your face with soft, gentle kisses, and you smile shyly up at him. You always feel extra vulnerable after you've had an orgasm, but he has learned how to handle that, making sure you won't crash after your high.

"M such a lucky man to have you by my side, Sugar," he whispers before placing a kiss on your forehead, followed by one on the tip of your nose, and he finishes with a last peck on your lips when you've found your footing again, and you're steady on your feet.

"Thank you, Tony," you whisper, and he smiles. Just before you two leave the closet, Tony picks up your panties from the floor and tucks them in the pocket of his pants as a little souvenir to remember what you two just did.

Surprisingly, the charity event went by quickly, but you and Tony decided not to stay for the afterparty this time. You two have been eyeing and teasing each other ever since you emerged from the closet, wanting nothing more than to make each other fall apart a couple more times before falling asleep in each other's arms.

Happy has picked both of you up, and there's a comfortable silence in the car as Tony's hand draws abstract figures on your thigh. You look out the window at the New York City skyline. It has always been one of your favorite cities, and when you decided to study here, you couldn't wait to explore it all.

Somewhere along the way, you met Tony, and now you're seated in the back of a large SUV on your way to his penthouse, where you two will undoubtedly spend the entire night pulling orgasm after orgasm out of each other.

The moments between Happy dropping both of you off and the elevator ride to his penthouse are a blur. The only thing you remember is Tony kissing you fiercely in the elevator, hands wandering everywhere until you had to let go, and he would lead you to his large bedroom.

Now, you're standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. As you look over the Manhattan skyline, Tony stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Your heels have already been kicked off, making him considerably taller than you are.

"I can't believe you had the nerve to show up looking like this, Sugar. Wearing my colors was such a bold move, and I can't say anything other than that I'm impressed," Tony tells you as you meet his gaze in the window.

"You must bring it out in me, Tony. Because I know for sure I would never have been able to do something so bold without you by my side," you answer as you take the last step back until your back is against his chest. Your eyes flutter shut as his arms wrap around you, and you hold his forearms as you stand there for a moment, basking in the moment's intimacy.

"As much as I love seeing you in that dress, I know for sure it'll look even better when it's on the floor," he tells you, making you chuckle as you let go of his arms, and he pulls the zipper on your side down. The fabric falls to the floor in one flowy movement, leaving you entirely bare for him.

"Perfect," he whispers, his nose nuzzling your neck while his hands glide down your sides until they land on your hips, where he makes a move to turn you around as he sinks to his knees. His fingers glide over the soft skin on your thighs and calves, before grabbing one of them and hooking them over his shoulder, opening you up beautifully for him.

Your glistening, puffy folds are on display as Tony licks his lips in anticipation, and he groans softly when you let your fingers glide into his hair, pulling softly to get him to the place where you need him most. Without a second thought, he flattens his tongue as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, and you throw your head back as he teases your sensitive nub a bit with the tip of his tongue.

"D-Daddy," you moan as your hips roll against his face, the friction causing a jolt of pleasure to go through your entire body. Tony's hands are holding you up firmly, his fingers pushing into the flesh of your hips to steady you.

With expert precision and the enthusiasm of a puppy, he eats you out like a starved man, and before you know it, you're tugging on his hair from root to tip to pull him closer, his facial hair giving you the best case of beard burn you've ever had as he works you through a mind-bending orgasm.

Every sound coming from your body is almost inhuman as the pleasure takes over your body, and you're trembling in Tony's hold, but you're not scared to let go. You trust him completely to take care of you, and you know he will do everything in his power to ensure you're safe, especially during moments like these.

"Tastes like heaven, Sugar, sweetest pussy I've ever tasted in my life," he rasps as he carefully guides your foot back on the floor before pulling you against his chest and kissing you softly, allowing you to taste yourself and the faint taste of his cum on his tongue. You quickly get lost in him as he touches you, and he makes you feel like you're floating right now.

"'s your turn now, Daddy," you tell him when he pulls away, but he shakes his head with a smile as he stops you. Your brows knit together as your gaze finds his, worry visible in your eyes.

"As much as I would love to have these beautiful, puffy, pink lips wrapped around my cock, I think I'd prefer to stuff you even more with my cum. Now that I've had a taste again, I want to be buried deep inside you, Sugar," he tells you as he cups your cheeks, and you nod in understanding.

"M'kay, but only because you ask so nicely," you tease, making him laugh. You let go of him before walking to the bed, and he lands a slap on your ass as you pass him - making you yelp in surprise.

A few minutes later, he's entirely bare above you, your head on his pillows as you look up at him in anticipation. He has settled between your legs, and his hard cock rests on the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, enjoying how your cheeks flush at his praise. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he lets his thumb glide over your cheek and the line of your jaw, before tipping up your chin to capture your lips in another kiss.

You two may not have revealed your feelings for one another yet, but you're also not afraid to show them off when it's just you two right now, basking in the intimacy of your closeness. So vulnerable and yet so strong at the same time.

Tony's fingers ghost over your body and down to his cock, which he fists a couple of times before lining up with your entrance and pushing in. You're still stretched enough from when he fucked you earlier, making it easier for him to slide in, but despite that, he still takes his time with you.

Soft moans tumble from your lips as he slowly thrusts in, taking his sweet time to fill you up completely. His hands are interlaced with yours above your head, and your noses are practically touching each other as he slides in completely, and your back arches into him as he hits your sweet spot.

"That's it, Sugar, you take me so well," he praises you as you wrap your legs around him, allowing him to fuck you even deeper than before. His hips roll into you at a careful, steady pace as he watches your face for any discomfort - but he doesn't find any.

"So good," you whisper before capturing his lips, and it doesn't take long for both of you to be on the edge of yet another release. Your eyes widen as you feel the band inside your belly on the verge of snapping, and with one last command, you're over the edge.

"Cum for me, Sugar, milk Daddy's cock for all it's worth," he grits out as he nuzzles his face in your neck, and with a loud scream of his name, you fall apart around him, your hips rolling in tandem with his as he releases every last drop of his cum inside you.

After riding out both your orgasms, he carefully pulls out before collapsing beside you and pulling you onto his chest, where you both come down from your highs.

"God, that was amazing, Sugar. But I definitely don't want to wait a month again before seeing you," Tony says with a breathy chuckle, and you nod.

"Me neither," you say sleepily as you listen to the soft hum on the arc reactor in his chest. It doesn't take long for Tony to hear your soft snores, and he pulls the comforter over you both. The cleaning up can wait a little bit.

"I'm not sure I know what love is, but I think this might be it, Sugar," Tony admitted to your sleeping form. "And I know you can't hear me right now, but maybe one of these days, I'll be brave enough to say it when you can," he whispers, the reality of his feelings suddenly hitting him hard.

After that, he got you cleaned up after you had a short nap and something to eat. You two shared more cuddles and soft kisses before going to sleep again, and you felt content in his arms as your arm was draped over his chest.

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, and you rub your eyes to make sure Tony isn't in there with you. When you've confirmed that he's not there, you sit up, pull the comforter to your chest, and grab your phone to look at the time.

"Good morning, Sugar. I made you breakfast in bed," Tony tells you as he walks in with a tray filled with your favorite fruits, french toast, some yogurt, and two steaming cups of coffee to finish it all off.

"Mornin'," you say as you yawn, the scent of breakfast filling your nose. A smile dances on your lips as you look at everything Tony prepared; your stomach begins to rumble.

"Someone's getting hungry," Tony teases as he sits on the edge of the bed and leans in to kiss your lips softly. You can get used to these mornings, though you shouldn't be getting too comfortable with how things go now. You don't want to get your heart broken again, after all.

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revalition · 2 months ago

Text

OCT 8 - VOLITION

Hold yourself together. Keep your Morale up.

I had to resize this image 3 times to get tumblr to take it... it is also past midnight here, but the day change doesn't really count if I haven't gone to sleep yet, so :)

Volition. My love. my favourite skill. please enjoy. I also drew the volitions of some of my mutuals!! because I love you guys and your volitions very much (holding them gently in my hands). hopefully you guys dont mind and I didn't mess them up too badly

anyway. uhm. I'm much too tired to write anything super coherent right now. please write tags for me or write comments so I can see them when I wake up haha

and! there is a LOT under the cut. like, way more than any of the other days. it is giant. be very careful expanding it <3

ok here goes... I'm typing shorter ones out and screenshotting big ones

--------

VOLITION - Stop, you're only making it worse for him -- you never help with *anything*.

- Rare volition being rude to other skills!!! it only happens under pressure, too

KIM KITSURAGI - "What else could she have done? Lie? She saw there was no way to lie and get away with it."

DRAMA - You would have caught it.

VOLITION - Like hell you would have -- remember?

- you tell him volition!!

SUGGESTION - What is *wrong* with you? Why did you ask to be connected to her? Who *does* that?! Act professional now.

VOLITION - *You* told him to do that stupid thing...

- rare volition callout!!

YOU - Can I trust that guy?

VOLITION - A little. They're all still of limited use, interpreting things to the best of their ability. Maybe they add flair or something? I wouldn't know. I don't add flair.

- this is one of my favs haha. you don't need flair, love, it's ok

VOLITION - Ouch.... That's like twenty points of pride-damage right there, buddy.

- This is after Sylvie turns you down to get coffee. (and you do suffer a point of morale damage haha). him calling you buddy is so funny. it's always mildly condescending too!

- here's the other two:

VOLITION - You're no titan of Volition, buddy. He's got you in a fork. Sit down or leave.

VOLITION - You're a little more moralist now, buddy. A little more *normal*. Even if you didn't want to be.

YOU - "Cryptid extravaganza? I like the sound of that."

KIM KITSURAGI - "And I *don't*. Just one."

VOLITION - Or he'll be *disappointed* in you.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Whooh... tough choice there.

- volition knows it's truly the most terrible thing haha

VOLITION - An enormous expenditure of willpower to build up strategic semen reserves? You had me at *willpower*. Let's do it!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Life is all about pleasure... why deny it?!

- these two are hilarious. poor echem. but also volition, honey, nono...

- the game implies consequences when increasing your skills too high but you don't see it with all of them. Volition's one you don't really see much downside to, but you can just. Imagine it here. Him pressuring you to do something stupid, just for the sake of it being difficult. Surely that's not healthy??

- I do think Volition has a lot of issues. I'll get into some more of them later though!!

- but just... Harry wanting to do something that *is* a test of willpower and Volition is completely uninterested. But the semen retention thing is okay? sigh

- and then after that, he's just like. nope. we're not going to not swear :)

- he's so stupid sometimes. also it's absolutely hilarious to me that you can pick the "..." option over and over and Volition will match it forever. You simply cannot out-will your own willpower. It's just not possible.

- I actually live for Volition being the singular voice of reason. Look at the others all chiming in!!

- this one too, Volition being the only one trying to stop it! Why are they all piling on?? Composure not you too >:(

- I had excessively high Volition *and* Pain Threshold in my first run and the two of them!!! PT gets very self destructive at high levels, so seeing the relentless push and pull of PT and Volition was so good.

- This line from the description -> "Cool for: Sane People, Well-Adjusted Cops, The Non-Suicidal" yes it's cool for them, sure, but it's incredibly!!! important for NOT these people! Because Volition doesn't make you sane, or well-adjusted, or non-suicidal. He's just the one voice of reason in there trying to veer you away from making irreversibly bad decisions.

VOLITION - She tries to hide it, but some *great doubt* is spreading within her. There is a crown slowly cracking above her head.

- I need to talk about this line. Just. Volition acknowledging the existence of Joyce's own Volition (which he refers to as a crown!!!) cracking! the *great doubt* spreading and cracking apart the crown! hghh I live for any and every depiction of volition cracking apart when morale gets low and this is absolutely one of them.

AUTHORITY - Weren't you warned to *not* go down this path?! And yet you *still* go and do it...

VOLITION - Just because you *can* doesn't mean you *have to* say everything that comes to mind. Back out before the situation escalates.

- these two's dynamic is very funny to me. I love when they work together (but I also love when they fight! fight fight fight!)

VOLITION - Don't ask, don't look, don't do *anything* here. Just go away. Get back to work.

- "Just go away" ugh my guy is fighting for his life here to get you away from the cigarette and alcohol counter in the Frittte

- hghhk Volition. this is a Challenging passive check too (the second one, to hang up). *one* chance, that's all he has in him. It's not possible at all in the dream, no matter how high your Volition stat is. It's just not something he can do. But here, with the distance of the payphone between you and possibly real consequences, he's able to manage one chance.

- (also did anyone see the post about the payphone conversation possibly being entroponetic crosstalk?? I could talk about that for way too long. but I am getting sidetracked)

YOU - "Yeah, I'm done talking about her. I don't want to think about her anymore."

RHETORIC - What a strange choice of words...

EMPATHY - Caustic, overflowing with negativity.

VOLITION - That can't be healthy. What's happening here? Why do you keep coming back to this window?

YOU - Nothing, everything's okay.

VOLITION - But it isn't. And you shouldn't come back to this anymore. This should be the last time. Stop talking about that damn window, please.

- this one too

VOLITION - Throw it away. Please.

- I need to talk about this. Volition dutifully directs you away from all the reminders of Dora. He does everything in his power to stop the final dream from happening.

- And I get it. He's trying to protect Harry. Because Harry isn't mentally stable right now and it could endanger the case. but... at least, when the final dream happens Kim is (usually) there when you wake up. And if all went well, you get to go back to your precinct, and take Kim with you. And Harry has support.

- If the dream doesn't happen... it will happen eventually. There are a million reminders in Martinaise in the span of a week, imagine what Jamrock is like. It's an inevitability. And then you're taking the chance that the dream happens at a time when Harry is much worse off. Maybe he's alone. Maybe Kim left, maybe he was let go from the force.

- The dream could happen at a better time too, of course. we probably all imagine harry picking up the pieces after martinaise and his life finally taking a turn for the better. and I imagine this is what Volition had in mind, by delaying the dream. Maybe it can be delayed for a long time, long enough.

- but it's a huge risk and I just... don't know if he's making the right choice here. keeping important information about Harry's past, which has shaped his relationships and life considerably, in a box so it can't hurt him

- yeah. anyway...

YOU - What if I don't want to ask questions?

REACTION SPEED - You're a cop, Harry. It is *unnatural* of you not to want to ask questions.

VOLITION - You don't have to. No one is forcing you to be a cop.

- Volition??? sometimes this guy makes no sense, he's so funny. I really think he occasionally just does something for the sake of being defiant

EGG HEAD - "Please. Please?" The young man smiles at you widely, bright and innocent as the summer sun.

VOLITION - His pleaful smile is disarming, but you can withstand it's glorious assault, if you just put your heart into it.

- why? why?? don't turn down egg head ever!

VOLITION - Alright, come on now. If *he* hasn't said anything about your lack of pants, no one will. You're only hurting yourself by not wearing them...

- this one is so funny. I love that he lets you know he *knows* you're trying to get a reaction and you're not going to get one!!

- yes volition, stop himmm

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - How very astute of you! This renders it ineffectual. You should look for a *whole* cigarette. Or better yet -- an entire pack! Strike that, a CARTON! Make sure they're all healthy and able-bodied, then smoke them all.

VOLITION - Or -- you could *not* do that. No one is making you.

- volition as usual trying to stop you from picking up bad habits... I just love the way he talks. he's not even telling you not to, just voicing his disapproval in a rather passive way

INTERFACING - Wow, the gods of mass production have made this alcohol container *laughably* easy to open. A child could have done it.

VOLITION - I don't know about this...

- he still doesn't outright tell you not to drink it... :(((

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Fine. We're not worried... you'll crawl back to this bottle soon enough. We'll give you another chance. Booze *always* gives you *another* chance.

SUGGESTION - Yes, it's *merciful* that way. It's your friend. Come back to it, we're all rooting for you to.

VOLITION - Not *all* of us...

- he's the only one rooting for you to not drink it!! he can't stop you. but he is supporting you in the only way he's able.

VOLITION - No. You *can* stop. Just wade through the hell. Month after month. Year after year -- you against the nothingness. It's possible, because *time* is possible.

- He can encourage you!!

YOU - "I *will* stop drinking."

MEASUREHEAD - "THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE. THE GAME OF *SHAH-MAT* YOU PLAY AGAINST THE GUL'S TRICKS IS UNWINNABLE. THE DAYS, THE WEEKS, THE MONTHS WILL WEAR YOU OUT. THE OCCIDENTAL HAPLOGROUP IS INCAPABLE OF LONG TERM LUCID THOUGHT."

VOLITION - NO.

- volition!!! <3 that's all he needs to say.

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - This is it. I'm gonna hit the ground and burn away now. Most of the people in this yard are gonna die -- if not all. Probably you too. It's a COMPLETE DISASTER.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Get ready for a world of pain, man.

VOLITION - No. Not a disaster. Weave this into the story of you. Walk out of its *ruins*. Save those who still can be saved -- *I'm* on your side.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - And the lieutenant too. And the men behind your back, drawing their weapons... you can live. You can get out of this.

- hnngh. this one is among my favourites too. my amazing 1 int run also had 1 motorics. at this point I had failed the rhetoric check to save ruby, failed the logic check to save lizzie, and now failed the spirit bomb throw too and was about ready to cry. Volition's quiet reassurance was very important to me in that moment. EdC too, and I did save Kim.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Your hand trembles as you scratch at your cheek... oh no, that's not how a grown man shaves!

YOU - Leave it for now.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Thank god, I would have cut your throat.

VOLITION - The centipede is exaggerating -- people don't actually cut their own throats when they're shaving. At least not accidentally.

- centipede!!! it's such a funny nickname. alternatively

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Your hand trembles as you scratch at your cheek... oh no, that's not how a grown man shaves!

YOU - This isn't sharp enough. Scrape harder.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Stop, for crying out loud! You're gonna cut your own throat.

VOLITION - There's no way to salvage this.

- these guys are hilarious. why is volition even watching this mess? 'there's no way to salvage this.' ??? I'm not even sure if he's referring to you or H/E... he must be so tired.

ENDURANCE - You feel like you're about to faint and fall off the swing. Your hands get clammy and the air tastes sour to breathe.

HALF LIGHT - Oh god, Harry! Oh god, Harry, what did you do...?!

VOLITION - No! Just nope. Say no to this, Harry.

- more of this!! >:( of volition trying to just avoid anything painful. wake up man.

LOGIC - Everything is so pretty and red -- you and Leo look like brothers as you glance around with similar childlike wonder.

VOLITION - Keep it together, no need to show your wonder.

- why? :( it's not hurting anyone. legendary difficulty passive for volition, high levels of volition are sometimes questionable. I love collecting all these instances of volition making weird suggestions. it's like when people point out really weird things Kim does, that you don't really notice as weird because he does it so calmly and confidently.

VOLITION - Huh... no, Mr. Conclusion. You're always kind of limited in your analytical abilities. That's not *her* fault. But still...

- volition: you're kind of limited in your analytical abilities... meanwhile logic and viscalc and ency calling you stupid and brain damaged lol. vol is so gentle about it!!

- then again...

VOLITION - ...no? He's not going to show up? I'm sorry, your lie detection isn't working. It's not her doing, he's just totally inept. It looks like you're also an idiot. But that's not her fault.

- lol.

RHETORIC - This is good. Clear the air first -- between you two -- then move on to questions.

VOLITION - No, it's not good. It's the opposite of that. This will let her dictate the terms of your...

RHETORIC - Shush. I can't hear what she's saying.

- no. don't ever cut off or shush volition ever again

- >:(

YOU - No-no-no-no...

INLAND EMPIRE - Yes, yes, yes, yes.

VOLITION - No-no, we're not starting with that. Not now. Not this time. This thought is over.

- volitionnnn... ily. my own volition also cuts off dangerous lines of thought for me. I think he's got to be constantly vigilant, in order to be so good at it. must be exhausting :(

YOU - "Can't promise that. I might attack him again." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant groans, but doesn't say anything.

VOLITION - That's right, you *should* do it again! It's the *last* thing he'll be expecting.

- uhm. not sure that's a good idea!!

VOLITION - You're too weak to say 'no' now. Waking up is the worst part. Maybe somewhere down the line you could decline...

- referring to declining the speed. all volition fails are very sad

VOLITION - Yes, look at yourself. What do you see?

YOU - Just a sorry stack of shit...

VOLITION - Yeah, didn't even know they stack shit *that* sorry.

- beautiful, rare volition scolding you!!!! after you disregard his advice and don't apologize to kim after the church fail. he's on your side, but he also knows he needs to tell you that this wasn't okay.

VOLITION - First the investigation, now this... how many more things do you have to fuck up?

- this one too! same scenario. this is a difficulty 16 (Godly) check...

- yes this again. it just needs to be in here. the volition panic attack. if this volition passive doesn't fire, you take no volition damage. it's completely self-inflicted :(((

PAYPHONE - The headset lands in the cradle with a clank. There it sits -- still warm from your hand. You have no idea what just happened.

(heal 2 endurance and 2 volition)

- if you hang up the phone before dora picks up!

VOLITION - He subdues the feeling. Dusts himself off and moves on. So should you. There will be other chances.

(heal 2 volition)

- if Kim misses getting a picture of the phasmid

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - The necktie is guiding you through this. It's your spirit animal, both your nemesis and friend. Suddenly a feeling of ease brushes through you -- you're fine again.

(heal 2 volition and 1 endurance)

AUTHORITY - That... was the most honourable thing anyone has ever done, Harry.

(heal all volition)

- very special incidences of healing more than 1 volition at once!! the fact that healing/damaging morale is just directly called heal/damage volition in the variable naming is. yeah. I think about it constantly. does it hurt him? I think it does. and he never says anything about it (unlike endurance!) he just bears with it quietly.

VOLITION - In honour of your shit, lieutenant-yefreitor. Which you kept *together* in the face of total, unrelenting terror. Day after day. Second by second.

INLAND EMPIRE - DETECTIVE

ESPRIT DE CORPS - ARRIVING

AUTHORITY - ON THE SCENE

- obviously this one has to be in here. funnily enough, in my second playthrough I had 2 PSY but everyone had been bumped up enough that they all fired except authority... I ended up throwing a point into authority and retrying the dialogue so it could be complete haha

VOLITION - What? I thought you had your shit together! This is nearing a complete meltdown! Stop it!

- volitionnn :( if you don't stop you have a panic attack, so I guess he's only trying to help

- this is too funny. volition honey, you absolutely do add flair too

YOU - Oh, you mean Cuno?

VOLITION - Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

- yup, absolutely no flair. Super. Tip-top!

VOLITION - These guys are compromised. She's got them singing along to her tune. The little bleeps and bloops you trust for info -- you can't trust them anymore.

- it would be a crime to not include the bleeps and bloops in here! why does he call them that?? haha

- rare instance of volition not being able to stop the disaster!

INLAND EMPIRE - Your surroundings are undisturbed. While you slept, you were alone. Now that you're awake -- you're still alone.

HALF LIGHT - Get the fuck out of here. Fuck this place, fuck this world, fuck this life, fuck this body -- just fucking go.

SAVOIR FAIRE - The sheets are stained red. Your blood's been running again. Keep it together. Just get out of here and finish this fucking thing.

VOLITION - Harry... I know there's not much to say -- but if nothing else, just remember that you've made it this far. And it's just a bit farther now. Let's finish this.

- this is just. it's awful, if you have the final dream all alone. but at least you have volition with you

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Dick Mullen was made to crack skulls and solve cases. It's who he is. He could no more stop being a detective than a tiger could cease to be a predator in the night.

VOLITION - You're no tiger, though, Harry. You're a man. It's your curse to have to choose.

- I like this one.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That sugary black rum stain on the counter makes you teary-eyed with joy. It's almost touching how syrupy and sticky it is. How long have you been up already?

YOU - Not now.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Oh *excuse me*, do you have something better to do than lust for sweet syrupy rum and lemonade? With a twist of lemon? Maybe lime? Maybe who cares, just rum?

VOLITION - Yes, you do have something better to do. Stop drooling over that stupid rum stain and go. Before it's too late.

- this is a challenging (difficulty 12) check! it's very difficult to resist the sticky rum stain I guess

YOU - Give up.

LOGIC - There we go. Your mind is a relaxed muscle. It's so nice and easy to give up, isn't it? On the downside -- you have no idea what you were supposed to do now. I could have *debriefed* you.

VOLITION - Blissful idiot -- say something. You've stood there for too long.

- blissful idiot

VOLITION - Don't be an idiot and say it. In this day and age, of all times. It won't end well.

- once again, volition pushing you away from the bi-curious thing. :( he just wants to keep you safe, but it comes at a cost.

- you can't just wrap harry in bubblewrap, volition. he'll never grow

- volition absolutely saving the day here. do NOT say it harry! authority's advice is SO hit or miss

VOLITION - It's time to leave it be. You're about to make a child cry. Are you proud of yourself?

YOU - Damn right I am! Proud as the Lion of Serber.

VOLITION - Excuse me, I'm not sure I heard that properly...

- volition ily. he has to deal with so much.

VOLITION - Should we? He's *nice*. I don't like *nice*.

- this is so funny. he's very suspicious.

VOLITION - Look at it, detective. And be ashamed. Until you make it right by *legally purchasing* that raincoat, I'll make sure you feel guilty every time you see it.

- YES YES conscience volition!!

YOU - Close the carabiner.

SLEEPING DOCKWORKER - The sleeping dockworker has little to say about your actions. He remains silent.

VOLITION - You're not 100% clear what you did here was *right*, but to hell with it...

- only sometimes!!

VOLITION - I can't restrain this one. The need to *cop* is too strong. You just need to ask it.

- why are you trying to restrain copping??? this guy, sometimes. he's so stupid (affectionate)

VOLITION - That's it. I'm calling it. Kim is beyond compromised.

- uhm. volition completely overcompensating with the compromised skills is quite funny. once drama wakes up, he does it too

VOLITION - See? It's oddly moderate. Probably compromised.

- oddly moderate now means compromised??

- this is it. this is volition's only comment on this disastrous authority fail. he makes no attempt to stop it!!

VOLITION - Being Cuno's pig has a steadying effect on your hand. Go with the flow, man...

- volition's so silly sometimes

DAMAGED LEDGER - You feel that thing in the back of your head? That little voice, that quiet scream? You already felt this was a bad idea, but especially right now it's even worse. Try as you might, you can't read it now.

VOLITION - You've got *business* to deal with first. Talk to the Union boss first, at least... I can't stop you for long, but there's just enough of an excuse now.

- Volition fighting for his life to stop you from reading the letter :,(

VOLITION - If it's possible, then by pure willpower alone. You are going to have to become... a psycholocomotor.

- that is *not* a real word but we love you anyway vol

LOGIC - Is that how it is now? We should just try all good things *twice* and then give up? By that logic...

VOLITION - Not you too...

- he's all alone out here :(

VOLITION - Someone's been a very busy boy. Good on you...

- thank you...?

VOLITION - *Very* off. Just let her go. Listen to me for once...

- for once?? :((( but if you try...

VOLITION - I can't help you. I am totally useless. Everything I've said is lies. I want the exact same bad things you want. To stand here, like a pillar of salt, saying...

- this is probably one of the saddest lines. all the skills falling apart in the dream is awful, but volition might be the worst. it's also very important that volition *does* want the exact same thing you want. He wants to drink and smoke and think of dora and die. And he chooses to resist it anyways. To be the only thing standing in your way. But it's to the point where it's all he knows. He knows that he has to resist the things he wants, and will occasionally take it too far. Keeping Harry (and himself) from things that will make them happy. In the setting of the game, Volition keeps things together and on track. But once Harry is back in his normal life, it will become very much a double edged sword I think. Luckily(?) it will self balance a bit, where if Volition prevents Harry from being happy then he'll lose morale, weakening volition, and then vol won't prevent harry as much and it'll balance out. hopefully.

VOLITION - Despair creeps into you, getting fat on your weakness. Whatever noble intentions you once had as a police officer -- it's eating them all up now.

VOLITION - Nothing you can say would make you feel any better now...

- 😭 I hate this, I hate the volition death. the endurance one is really painful too, but this one's painful in a different way. Volition isn't getting back up from this. the awful newspaper clipping saying you go to live under a bridge... that's what happens when you let volition die?? if any of the other skills (except endurance) drop to 0 you can just raise them back up, but vollll.... ugh.

VOLITION - Listen... It's okay to take a few minutes to yourself. Sit down and have a breather.

ENDURANCE - You need to rest. Your body is aching. Getting in here has taken something out of you. Have a seat.

- our two health pool boys encouraging you to take care of yourself <3

YOU - "Kim, can *you* see it?!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can see it."

VOLITION - Four simple words -- thank god. If he can see, then you're not insane.

- this one is obviously very important.

YOU - "I've finally gone insane..." (Put your head in your hands.)

[...]

VOLITION - My god... maybe you *are*.

- if Kim and Cuno aren't there, and your Volition is really low, you get this very sad fail. :(

VOLITION - True, you ought not love ruins and hell -- and the fading scent of apricots.

- I like this one.

WASHERWOMAN - "I *can* wash it for you," she says after looking the jacket over, "but it's going to take about a half an hour. Think you can stay put for that long?"

VOLITION - Hell yeah!

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - No, we must run around ceaselessly. It would be torture to stay put.

- I really really love him.

YOU - "By the way, I'm going to sing karaoke here."

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - "Absolutely out of the question."

VOLITION - You wait and see, cafeteria manager!

- volition will not be told no!!

VOLITION - No one can STOP you from finding the phasmid.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - WHAT IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!?! Are you going to CRY now, son?

VOLITION - You heard the coach! This is weakness. It cannot go on much longer, or you will LOSE.

- these guys are great. coach!

YOU - Right. Activate Denial Mode.

VOLITION - You're not really an automaton, you do know that?

- oh, thank you for the insight volition

- even your most willful, imaginative skills know this scope creep was insurmountable...

DRAMA - But we *are* awake, sire! She has been forthcoming -- with sordid details women usually conceal! Most *shocking* details of the sexual kind! We are a bulwark, un-breached...

VOLITION - You've been breached, bulwark. You've been breached, like, a thousand times now!

- nooo poor drama (volition is right)

- Volition trying to reassure you after the Tribunal is very important.

- SO TRUE.

DRAMA - This may have been a *grave* mistake, sire.

VOLITION - Maybe. Maybe not. Mercy is rarely a *complete* mistake.

- I really adore this quote.

I think I'm going to leave it here. I haven't included some quotes that I put in other posts already but I might add them in later to have a comprehensive Volition post... But I've spent like 4 hours on this already so I'm giving it a rest for now :)

#skilltober #de volition #disco elysium #de skills #rev art

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