#mostly she AND the other girls feel a bit sorry for her lack of a social life. one even tries to set her up with a date to the school dance

[corrcdedcoffin]

dealers choice | jj maybank

request: jj x reader but he’s her dealer and they’re always flirting but this time it turns into something more ;)

summary: jj is a self proclaimed entrepreneur, and has a small circle of clientele; you amongst them. you, who he's been trying to make a move on for, well.. forever.

warnings: 18+, drugs (weed), alcohol, partying, illusions of smut (nothing happens), friends to lovers? sort of, jj swoons hard, kissing

note: this took its own route, i tried to stick to the request as much as possible but once i started i couldn't stop and this is the outcome.. sorry if it's not up to expectations i did my best :/ i also left it a bit open ended in case anyone wants a part 2!!

word count: 2.9k

JJ Maybank was very passionate about his 'small business'. After the gang opened up the surf shop, and Kie and Cleo really focused on the garden, JJ learned a thing or two himself, developing quite the green thumb.

When he wasn't at the shop, he was caring for and creating hybrids of his oh so precious devils lettuce. Customers of his would often come to the shop to purchase the extra goods, you included.

It wasn't like you were really friends with JJ and his friends, but you'd known them most of your life. You'd see them at the skate park, sometimes you'd surf with them, but mostly you'd hangout at parties. It was a weird spot between friends and acquaintances. And now, JJ was your regular dealer.

You and your friend had stopped at their shop for some board wax, where she was complaining it would have been a perfect day had she hadn't accidentally dropped her pre-rolls in the toilet that morning.

JJ overheard the conversation and couldn't help but chuckle, admitting it's happened to him before and offering for you to try one of his freshly rolled joints. Sure, it was out of his own stash, but he thought you were so pretty he just couldn't help himself. From then on, you were a loyal customer.

Mostly, you'd come into the shop like everyone else to make your purchase. After a while he'd given you his number, offering to deliver wherever you needed, free of charge.

Then you'd gone to his house a few times to pick up. It was usually pretty civil, a typical business interaction with some side conversation here and there about a party you'd seen each other at, or about how you got a modelling gig for a new surf wear brand.

He'd stalked the brands instagram page after that.

Eventually, the dynamic between you had started to shift. Conversations started lasting longer, he found himself cracking jokes left and right just to hear you laugh, his hands lingered against yours for longer than they probably should have, finding it more and more impossible to keep a distance between you. His late night thoughts were all about you, unable to stop himself from wrapping a hand around himself and fantasizing about you there with him, imagining you were the one touching him.

He felt disappointed when he didn't hear from you for a while. So much so, that John B noticed. He was like a puppy that had been kicked to the curb, sulking around making everyone else feel it's sorrow.

"She's probably just busy with work" he suggested, making JJ sigh.

John B had been discreetly watching the two of you at the shop and the house for a while. He noticed how JJ had more pep in his step when he knew you were coming by, and more so after seeing you. The constant flush in his cheeks was impossible to miss, even the others started to tease him relentlessly, calling him a pussy for not making a move.

It wasn't for lack of trying, though. JJ was always a smooth talker, especially when it came to girls. He was always confident, and never took rejection personally. But with you? His nerves always got the best of him, even if you never noticed. God, he hoped you didn't notice. Sometimes he'd stutter, and he always worried that you'd feel his clammy hands when making a deal.

The gang knew about his crush on you, since John B couldn't keep his mouth shut. It became a bet on how long it'd take JJ to make a move. Sarah and Kie agreeing it wouldn't take much longer, maybe a month. John B, Pope and Cleo thinking more like 6 based on his nerves and current rate of action.

Sarah had gotten home early one evening to get ready for a party at the Boneyard. Hearing a car pull up, she checked out the bedroom window to see who it was, and she couldn't help the way her jaw hung low when she saw you in the drivers seat reapplying lip gloss and fixing your hair before getting out.

She had always admired your fashion sense.

Sneaking downstairs, she stayed hidden in the kitchen while you and JJ were in the porch, and she couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"There's my favourite girl" JJ smirked at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a side hug. You smiled wide, saying a soft "Hi, J" and silently praying your cheeks weren't so obviously as red as they felt. Were you really his favourite girl?

You took note of how good he smelled.

"I got your usual ready, and I... added a couple of things" he said as he pulled away from you, walking to the far end of the table and grabbing a bag.

There was your usual quarter in a small ziploc bag, neatly wrapped and tucked into a larger freezer bag that contained three pre-rolls (which he'd never done before, but after last time you'd admitted you were a shitty roller, he couldn't help himself), a pack of cherry flavoured papers (your favourite), a small rolling tray, a candy bar, and a charm bracelet from the shop.

Sarah's jaw was practically on the floor, she had to cover her mouth to muffle the gasp that she couldn't hold in.

"You didn't have to do this, JJ" you looked at him with adoration.

"I know, but I wanted to" he smiled, then cleared his throat. "I figured since you prefer joints but aren't confident rolling, I'd throw in a few for you. And then papers and a tray since you said you didn't have one, and I had an extra one." (That was a lie, Sarah was with him when he bought it).

"And the chocolate?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"You said it was your favourite.. so.." JJ trailed off.

"What about this?" you held up the bracelet, inspecting it.

It was something new they added to the shop, build your own charm bracelet. Kiara had ordered a bunch of charms and some plain Italian bracelets so customers could add whichever ones they like.

The charms were cute, and all suited your personality quite well. There wasn't a single one on there that you didn't like.

"Uhm, I just saw it at the store and thought you might like it.. I can return it if--"

"No! No, it's really nice. I love it" you smiled sweetly at him, and he swore he could feel his heart turn to goo.

He stepped closer to you, taking the bracelet from your hand. "I jus' wanna make sure it fits" he spoke lowly, taking your left hand and sliding the bracelet on.

Your eyes stayed on his face as he focused on your wrist. He was moving slowly and softly, the way he turned the bracelet so it was upright gave you goosebumps. "What d'you think?"

You glanced down at your wrist, the charms seeming to sparkle in the setting sun. "S'perfect" you looked back to him, "Thank you".

The close proximity was hard to ignore. Sarah was hiding in the dark, chewing on her fingers and silently urging for him to kiss you.

You placed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he could feel his brain short circuit. "Gotta keep my favourite customer happy" he smiled lightly.

The two of you held eye contact for a moment longer before your phone ringing in your pocket scared you. It was your friend, and you smiled in apology to JJ before answering. He moved away and sat in a chair, facing you and the door, fidgeting with a lighter.

You told your friend you were just picking up and you'd be at their house soon, JJ pursed his lips. After hanging up you resealed your goody bag, then looked over to him.

"Are you going to the Boneyard tonight?" you asked.

He looked up at you, "Are you?" he countered.

You nodded, "My friend's making me."

"Then I'll be there" he nodded, and you couldn't help the flush that took over your cheeks once more.

"Okay, see you later then?"

"See you later" he smiled. You gave a small wave before leaving, hurrying to your car and heading to go pick up your friend. She'd have your head if you were any later than you already were.

JJ rubbed his hands across his face and groaned, cursing himself for being an idiot.

"You're not an idiot" Sarah pushed the porch door open. "A fool, maybe. But not an idiot."

JJ quickly pulled his hands away from his face. "How long have you been there?"

"Since she pulled up" Sarah shrugged.

"Oh my god!" he groaned again, leaning his head back on the chair. Embarrassed was an understatement.

Sarah took a deep breath, "You don't have to be embarrassed. What you did was really sweet!"

"It wasn't too much?"

She shook her head. "No, I think it was the perfect amount of romance. Boys don't really do stuff like that anymore. Besides, she likes you, so you don't have anything to worry about."

"How would you know?"

"Because, it's obvious. And I'm a girl, so I just do."

JJ scoffed at that. "Girls are very subtle with their flirting. It's all in the eyes, and the body language, not so much the words" she added.

JJ motioned for her to go on. He felt like an idiot having her explain this to him, but he'd never been so unsure of himself with a girl before. He was absolutely smitten over you, that he was sure of. But do you really like him?

It was easy to tell with other girls he didn't have actual feelings for.

"Well, does she smile at you at lot, does she make lots of eye contact, especially after someone tells a joke? Does she find ways to be close to you? How does she react when you get close to her, things like that."

There was silence between them as JJ thought on all previous interactions with you. All the boxes were checked off, even as he thought about moments ago when he put the bracelet on you. You got goosebumps, he heard a small hitch in your breath, but still he doubted himself.

"Look, she asked if you were going to the party tonight, obviously she wants to see you. So get off your ass and get ready!" Sarah started clapping in his ear.

The party was in full swing by the time JJ and his friends arrived. Immediately, he was searching for you. As if sensing his nerves, Sarah nudged his arm and pointed in your direction.

You were sitting around the fire with your friends, beer in hand, laughing at something.

"Go over there, say hi" Sarah smiled.

JJ shook his head. "Nuh-uh, no way, I need a couple beers first."

"Shotgun?" John B proposed with a devilish glint in his eye.

JJ nodded, missing how Sarah told John B to take him over by where you were sitting. The gang followed along without question, and by the time JJ realized where they were going, it was too late.

He tried not to look at you right away, but he found it difficult. Shaking his arms in an attempt to loosen up, he got ready to shotgun with Pope and John B. They downed three in a row, earning a small round of applause from the crowd. JJ immediately looked at you, his heart skipping when you were already smiling at him.

You gave a small wave, the bracelet he made you reflecting the firelight.

He held up a fresh beer and tipped it up in a cheers motion as a greeting, unable to hold back a smile when you did the same. You turned back to your friend when she whispered something to you before getting up and leaving.

JJ watched as you dug your feet in the sand and reached into your bag, pulling out one of the joints he gave you. You turned to him again, holding it up in offering.

He smiled, patting his friends on the back, "See ya later, boys" he said, giddiness evident in his voice.

They all watched as he sauntered over to you, unable to help the smiles on their faces. Cleo let out a cheer, John B and Pope following suit. JJ flipped them off, keeping his eyes on you as you laughed.

"Hi" he smiled as he sat next to you on the log.

"Hi" you smiled back. "Care to share?"

"Huh," he inspected the joint. "This is very nicely rolled. You do this yourself?" he teased.

"No, I know this guy, he seems pretty handy" you smirked, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, maybe he'll show you sometime" JJ shrugged.

"I'd like that" you smiled at him.

Conversation flowed easily between you as you smoked. You both got a little more comfortable as the buzz began to flow through your veins, arms pressing against each other as you shared stories of idiotic things you've both done while high or drunk.

The jokes were never ending between you, and after a couple more drinks you let it slip that you thought he was handsome.

JJ couldn't help the smile that formed after that.

He stood up abruptly and held out his hand to you. "What?" you giggled.

"Come with me!"

You slipped your bag over your shoulder before taking his hand and standing up. He laced his fingers between yours and led you further down the beach. It was quieter, a small fire with a few people nearby and a different song playing. It was slower, made the moment feel more intimate than whatever shenanigans you were sure he was up to. Still, neither of you could ignore the harsh thumping in your chests.

To your surprise, there was no shenanigans. "Dance with me?" he asked, placing his free hand on your waist.

"You tryna romance me, Maybank?" you smirked, a playful glint in your eye.

"Depends. Is it working?" he asked, placing your hand on his shoulder before putting his other on your waist.

You had both hands clasped around the back of his neck now, allowing him to gently sway you as you pretended to think about your answer.

"Hmm, I think it might be" you smiled.

"Good, cause that's exactly what I'm trying to do."

You looked down as you giggled, and he took the opportunity to pull you just a little bit closer.

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Depends. What 'cha thinkin'?" you looked back up at him. Your faces were inches apart, you could feel his breath on your face. It was the closest you'd ever been, and yet somehow it still felt so far away.

"Well, I was hoping I could take you out. I know a nice little spot, really good for an evening picnic. What d'you think?"

You smiled, "I think.. It's a date."

JJ smiled, "Alright, cool. I'll pick you up at 7?"

"I'll be ready."

There was a moment of silence between you as you stared at each other, smiling like idiots, before he lifted you and spun you around quickly. The laugh that bubbled out of you would be on repeat in his mind forever.

JJ swallowed the lump of nerves that grew in his throat. Why was he so nervous? He asked you on a date and you agreed. The hard part was over, wasn't it? You were in his arms dancing with him, willingly. And god, you looked so beautiful, it was hard to focus.

And to make matters worse, you noticed. "You okay?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm good. Great, actually."

"Then why do you seem so nervous?"

Fuck.

"Cause I just.. I-You're really pretty, and I really want to kiss you" he huffed, cheeks going red, but he kept his eyes on yours. He needed you to know this was serious, more than just some fling to him.

"Then kiss me" you spoke quietly.

He pulled you closer, rubbing his nose on yours before closing the distance between you. You snaked a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. His left hand slid up your back, pulling you even closer as his right squeezed your hip.

You weren't sure how long you kissed for, but there were some cheers nearby, making you pull away and look. It was JJ's friends again, congratulating the two of you. JJ flipped them off once more, taking the hat from his head to shield you for some privacy as he kissed you again.

Much to his dismay, it only made them cheer harder, and neither of you could stop the laughs that escaped you.

With his hat still shielding you, he apologized for his friends, slightly raising his voice so they could hear him call them idiots, and that they ruined the moment.

You shook your head, "They didn't ruin it" you smiled, placing another kiss to his lips.

JJ couldn't stop smiling, taking a glance around the Boneyard and deciding he didn't want to be there anymore.

"Wanna get outta here?" he asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

You nodded, humming a soft mhm before he took hold of your hand once more, leading you away from the party and back towards town. The two of you walked down the streets hand in hand, twirling and dancing around, stealing kisses as much as you wanted until the sun started to come up.

[ashthesalamipiece]

HI HUNN I hope you aren’t sick of writing baby fics… but could you make a mom reader x kiribaku, especially with a little girl (they’d LOVE being girl dads) but at first they were skeptical cause they didn’t know who the father was since the three of them did it all together lol, but they don’t care and eventually the baby is born, and look mostly like the mom rather than the boys, so then they face the troubles of having a baby with lack of sleep!! TY 💗

Of course I’m not sick of baby fics! This idea is absolutely precious, and Kiribaku as girl dads? Instant serotonin

Enjoy!♡

---

“Who’s the Dad?” (And Other Useless Questions)

Mom!Reader x Kirishima x Bakugou

The pregnancy test had barely hit the sink before Kirishima turned to Bakugou with wide, slightly panicked eyes.

"Do you think it's mine?" he asked.

"How the hell would I know, shitty hair?" Bakugou snapped, already feeling his pulse climb. “We all did it together!”

You stood between them, clutching the positive test, blinking like you were trying to reboot.

"We literally agreed this could happen," you said slowly. “No matter what, we’re a family, remember?”

Both men quieted. Kirishima stepped forward first, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. “You’re right. Sorry. We just—yeah. We weren’t expecting it to happen so fast.”

Bakugou joined, resting a warm hand on your belly like the answer might be hiding under your shirt. “Doesn’t matter whose it is. She’s ours.”

You hadn't known it was a she yet. Somehow, Bakugou just knew. And somehow… he was right.

---

The first time you held your baby girl, wrapped in pink and screaming loud enough to make Bakugou proud, Kirishima laughed until he cried.

“She’s got your nose!” he told you with awe.

“And your dimples,” you said, brushing a finger over her soft cheek. She cooed under your touch.

Bakugou looked mildly offended. “She doesn’t look like either of us.”

“She’s perfect,” you said. “So I win.”

“Damn right,” Bakugou grumbled, but his hand was already reaching for hers.

---

At three a.m., none of you were winning.

“She’s howling, Katsu,” you whispered hoarsely, bouncing the baby against your chest. “She just ate!”

“She’s got the same temper as me, what did you expect?” he muttered, grabbing a burp cloth with dark circles under his eyes.

Kirishima stumbled in, shirtless and dazed. “What’s happening—why’s she crying—did we try the dragon lullaby?”

“Dragons aren’t real,” you and Bakugou said in unison.

“Neither is sleep,” Kirishima mumbled, yawning as he scooped the baby out of your arms and started to hum.

---

It was hard. Messy. Loud. Some days ended with tears, some started with cold coffee and a baby onesie soaked in spit-up. But every night, the three of you would watch her sleep between you — her little fist sometimes curled around a red strand of Kirishima’s hair or tugging on Bakugou’s tank top.

She didn’t look like either of them. But in the way she furrowed her brow when she was hungry, or kicked her feet when she was excited, they saw bits of themselves.

“She’s lucky,” Kirishima murmured one night. “She’s got two dads who love her.”

Bakugou snorted. “Two dads, and a badass mom.”

You smiled, reaching for both their hands. “She’s got everything she needs.”

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[hysteria-things]

smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

[zombii-hoe]

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍

Fem! Solivan [AKA Solana] x Fem! Reader

The Kid at the Back is an 18+ game and this post will have 18+ content MINORS DNI

cw: groping, tit fondling, dry humping, pre-establish relationship

a/n: uhhhhhh women! fuck, women guys women, i love women did you know that? fuck i love women, is it obvious?? fuck i love solana and i dont see enough fics of her ＿|￣|○､;

//unedited

"Hey, Sol can you scoot over to the left? No no, the other left."

"S-Sorry, pumpkin, it's a bit tight but I'll try." Sol stutters and shuffles to the side, cheeks red from the close proximity with you. "Is this, okay?"

Biting back a small pleasurable groan from having both your and Sol's tits rub against each other, you chose the safest option and nod your head instead. "Mhm, p-perfect."

Curse Hyugo for tricking you both into walking inside a small closet because he's 'so scared of the dark!'. Yeah, what a damn liar, he could go fuck himself.

Shifting your bent leg from its cramped position, you don't feel your knee rubbing against Sol's crotch, who immediately shut her orange eyes and bit her lip to conceal a whimper.

"Hey, Sol," You spoke after a while of silence. "I just wanted to say sorry for getting us both locked in here, I'm so gonna beat Hyugo's ass for locking us in here."

Hunched over, Sol hides her red face in between your shoulder and neck, her breathing heavy. "M-Mhm!"

Noticing her weird breathing, you pull your crushed arm from the wall and rest it against Sol's green locks. "Hey, are you okay?"

Seemingly embarrassed, Sol pulls her face away from your shoulder, eyes casted to the side as she mumbled something.

"What was that?" You leaned closer.

She mumbled louder this time, orange eyes now on your own.

"Y...your," She licks her lips, ignoring the way your eyes glanced over to them before returning to her eyes. "Your knee is rubbing against..."

"Against what?" You repeated, urging her to finish her sentence.

"Your knee is rubbing against my crotch..."

"..."

Glancing downward and lo and behold, there was the problem that was causing Sol's breathing to become flushed and labored. Flustered and embarrassed, you try and wiggle your knee away from underneath Sol's skirt, but it seems to do nothing as it only made it worse.

Mostly because of the lack of space and definitely not the way Sol's hips grinded back against your knee.

"Fuuuck, [Name]," She moaned, tilting her head back against the shelf giving you a good look of her lustful gaze and messy hair.

Swallowing a gulp of saliva, you stutter our apologies. "S-sorry! I'm so sorry, Sol, I can't move away!"

Moving with what little room you have; you unknowingly place your hands on her chest to create space. "If I can just-"

"W-wait!" Sol pleads, hips frantically rocking against your knee, arching her back so you can grope at her breasts some more. "If you keep moving your knee like that, I'm- I'm gonna-!"

"Hang on, Sol! My knee's almost out!" You reassured her, raising your head to give the lust filled girl a comforting smile.

Whimpers and groans left Sol's lips, her cheeks were flaming hot, her pussy throbbed against the constant grinding motion of your knee, her clit aching from the lack of attention.

Grabbing both your hands from her chest, she guides one hand down into her underwear where her clit sat nice and patiently and the other, under her black shirt to pinch at her pierced nipples.

"H-here," She moaned, pressing her forehead against yours, her breath mixing with yours. Sol's eyes were wet and ready to spill tears from the constant teasing of your knee. "Can you touch me here, please?"

Fuck, she looks so hot right now. How could you not listen to her? You clenched your thighs from her begging, feeling your panties get soaked.

"Okay, fuck, okay okay," You muttered, the hand that was in her panties began to play with her clit. Her back arches, relieved to finally get her clit played with.

Leaning forward, you planted open mouthed kisses on her collarbone, nibbling and sucking on certain spots that left her a whining mess in your arms.

"Like that- just like that [Name], fuuUck!~" Your hand that wasn't occupied with Sol's clit, lifted up her black shirt to her chin, bra included, her breasts perked and ready for you.

"Fuck, Sol," You murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of her right breast, she keens at the feeling. "Has anyone told you that you have such pretty tits?"

She giggles, "Only you have, pumpkin."

Leaning down, Sol locks her lips with yours using her hand to cup the back of your head to keep you in place.

"Okay ladies~ I'm here to save you from the dark monster in the clos- WOAH!" Hyugo swings open the door with a shit eating grin on his face only to jump at the intimate position you two were in.

In your arms, Sol stood with her shirt rolled up revealing her chest, her collarbone littered with marks, hair messy, her green skirt hiding your hand that was in her black lacy panties, her juices rolling down her thighs.

As for you, your face was littered with lipstick, cheeks hot at being caught by Hyugo.

"Sooo, does this mean you both are together-together?" Hyugo questioned, breaking the silence.

Ripping herself away from you with an unreadable expression, Sol pushes Hyugo aside, not caring that her breasts were on full display, grabbing the door handle with a grip that you were sure she dented the metal and slams the door shut.

Stunned at her reaction, you looked for an explanation from her only to be pinned against the wall instead, breasts pushing against your covered ones.

"Shall we continue?" She breathed.

My tip jar! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

still shit at writing smut god dammit

anyways me and my wife solana rn

[mixingandmelting]

Hey! So kinda new here but I LOVED your take on how they would react to their s/o thinking Damian's adorable. Everytime he comes up I get in full protective older sister mode and it is so hard to find fics like that (kinda thinking about writing it myself). But I would really love to see how do you think it would be for Damian to meet his brothers' partners and actually get along with them.

All his life he's been mostly surrounded by terribly traumatized people who seem to be allergic to express their feelings (most of the times at least), it's always been hard for him to actually be a kid. So I think that maybe meeting a person he can trust, is kind of mentally stable and just fun to talk to would actually allow him to let his guard down a bit. Not saying he would act fully like a child bc you know ✨️trauma✨️ but idk I guess it would be interesting to see him feeling safe and not needing to prove himself or put on the whole "I'm not a kid" act

Anyway, english is not my first language so I do apologize if that paragraph is just a big mess and hopefully you could actually understand my rambling, sorry about that too.

A/N: treating it as a prequel to the aforementioned post here!

w/ Dick:

He heard about you. From Oracle, Steph, Tim, even Jon. Yet despite what they told him, he held no expectations for you. Just with Starfire, he saw you as temporary, a flame soon to be put out like his brother’s other exes. 

And he made sure to let you, meeting you for the first time in the Manor when the two of you coincidentally are left alone to chill in the living room on your day visiting the place. 

“I hope you realize you’re not Richard’s first nor will you be his last.” The teen states. His eyes never leave the page he’s currently on regarding the etiology of cows as he sits on the couch across from you. 

“And?” 

…And? 

He continues to insult you, questioning if you were truly unable to comprehend what he’s trying to get at only to suddenly find himself debating with you about what Batcow’s breed could possibly be. 

“You can’t rule out all dairy cattle when certain breeds are also brought to the slaughter house.” 

“That’s true but considering her size, she would be leaning towards beef cattle. Also there are certain breeds that have the red and white coat like hers.” 

How it happens, he doesn’t know. Especially when his goal was to exert his superiority, doing everything he can to get under your skin to show he’s above you. But you don’t bat an eyelash to anything he says. Rather, you’re wanting to know more about him, responding to him how you would respond to anyone else who is similar age as you. 

And it seems like he isn’t the only one to have realized how quickly he’s gotten comfortable with you once you got dragged out for a “girls talk” by the girls. Whatever that is. 

“I thought you didn’t want to get along?” Dick asks, entering the room and plopping himself right next to the youngest Bat. 

“More like your s/o is either non-human or can manipulate the mind.” Damian scowls and swats at the offending hand that attempts to ruffle his hair. 

But even without the knowing smirk the eldest shoots at him, he knows that isn’t the case. 

So when you promise you’d bake sweets whenever the two of you meet, he takes you up for it. Now he uses it to his advantage to annoy his older sibling whenever he comes over to visit, enjoying how the eldest son of the family miserably sulks for having your attention taken away from him. 

w/ Jason:

It’s either you’re a saint or lacking a brain. That’s what he assumes when the eldest of the family yells to everyone in the Batcave that their second oldest brother, the trouble-maker and black sheep of the family, had finally found himself a significant other.

He most definitely didn’t expect you to be… collected and reserved when he casually breaks into Todd’s unit to demand for assistance (it’s not him needing help), only for his eyes to meet wide and surprise yours. 

“Who are you?”

“Uh, I should be the one to say that to you.  Not the other way around buddy.”

Shots are fired, both sides fully suspicious of each other with him trying to exert dominance while you manage to counter and land hits of your own in the battle of words. And to the bitter end, he will never admit how he’s thrown off guard and has his pride extremely hurt at the very start, your eyes’ glint and your voice vocalizing recognition as whom, what Todd apparently refers to him as, “the pain in the ass” before he was able to realize you’re the s/o Richard had been talking about (the argument he gives later on after gloating to family how he was the first to actually to meet you was how he didn’t think Todd would be dating someone normal considering all his history with others and hook-ups). 

As it should be known when putting two stubborn people in the same room, it’s either go big or go home. That’s why he sits down at the table and drinks the cup of tea you place in front of him. The one that you made in the midst of the verbal argument which “only” you refuse to back down despite there already being a winner. Not because you give him snacks and you’re decent with steeping tea with loose leaf tea. 

The argument shifts to gossiping, and soon, Jason arrives while the two of you spill the tea with each other regarding the latest Batfamily’s love-drama. 

“Oh, you’re back!” 

The way Damian nearly does a double take at the sight of the man genuinely smiling with joy, captivation, and enamor though it only lasts for a second at him noticing who else was sitting at the table with you. He’s glad to say the least he’s able to find someone he could gossip about his family’s dilemma with romance while gleefully able to get at the man for all the times his buttons were pushed. 

w/ Tim:

Trust Drake to keep you hidden for this long, successfully in completely masking your presence from the whole family. He didn’t even know you existed, nonetheless Drake having a significant other in general,  leaving him to quite literally not have an opinion on you. 

The only way he finds out is the person in question kissing who he now knows is you purely by accident where the two of you were in the middle of a date and he was subbing in for patrol. He had the biggest grin when witnessing all this as he realized he just got his hand on his nemesis’ biggest weakness (he does make a face at the public display of affection though). And what better way to cement it by finding out more about you. 

As per tradition, the first thing he does is follow you to where you live. Then proceed to break in and wait for you to come home the following week. 

“You’re Drake’s significant other?” 

“What the fuc-fudge, why is there a kid in my apartment?!” 

He gets fed up and presses harder with the interrogation as you won’t stop calling him kid, kiddo, bud, and worst of all: sport. He’ll give it to you how you don’t easily bend to peer-pressure, keeping the playing field even and leveled where you ask him back questions of your own. But he doesn’t fall for your tactics to sidetrack him when offering refreshments and beverages. 

What’s your relation with Timothy Jackson Drake, how long have you known him, where did you meet him. The strange part is how you answer them truthfully. Sure you keep to the barebones, which he would ask a follow up if he deems as “important” but now he’s questioning Drake’s tastes in people, wondering if the latter is into those without awareness. 

“You do realize you’re giving out information to someone you just met, right?” He crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised. It’s not out of concern for the two of you, he’s merely mocking how weak the relationship seems to be. He tilts his head when you suddenly look sheepish, almost bashful. 

“Well…about that…” 

It’s starting then things don’t go as planned. One, you had already known about him as the “demon spawn” who had taken the position of Robin.  And two, the two of you start bonding over knowing your BF’s most humiliating moments.

It gives Damian the greatest satisfaction to see how his sibling’s facial expression falls into horror as he slams the door open only to see him in the middle of writing notes on the one story of how he attempted to skate through the rain to impress you and fail.

[quinnynation]

in the middle ᯓᡣ𐭩 colby brock & sam golbach one-shot

pairing : boyfriend!sam golbach x doberman!reader x colby brock

summary : colby expected this conversation to go way worse than it actually did

warning/extra tid-bits : no warnings but a disclaimer that this fic is about POLYAMORYYYY!! and just bc sam and colby are dating dobie that does NOT mean they’re dating each other <3

word count : 1,070

divider credit : pics from pinterest ,, dividers by @fleurwy

Nobody was mad. Which was interesting because this seemed like the perfect opportunity for fists to fly.

Two best friends in love with the same girl, a trope so common that Dobie refused to watch any movie or read any book that contained it. Yet, here she was. In the middle of Sam and Colby’s kitchen, leaning against the counter with both boys standing on either side of her- directly facing each other.

“We can figure this out.” Sam, her boyfriend, said adamantly. It was cute and Dobie hoped it was true because she would not be the reason Sam and Colby’s career fell apart. 

It was either Sam and Colby stayed together, or she left. Dobie decided that the moment that the boys told her of Colby’s feelings for her.

Dobie’s arms were crossed over her chest protectively, trying to hide the fact she was nervous. If Sam knew she was nervous, he’d be neurotic. If Colby knew Sam and Dobie were nervous, he’d be petrified.

She watched as the two best friends spoke calmly to one another, Colby explaining how he came to realize his feelings for Dobie while also explaining the guilt that weighed heavy on his shoulders for falling for his best friend’s girlfriend. 

Dobie would have been lying if she said she wasn’t at least a bit flattered that both boys seemed to have grown absolutely infatuated by her. 

“And I know- trust me, I know this is the shittiest thing I could do to you- to both of you.” Colby confessed, his blue eyes turning misty. Dobie frowned; she hated when her friends cried. 

Mostly because she didn’t want her friends feeling any sort of negative emotion, but also partly because she’d always seemed to lack in the whole “comforting” department. It’s not that she didn’t try, it’s just that her way of comforting included cracking jokes- which wasn’t always appropriate.

“You could’ve murdered us, that’d be way shittier than this.” Dobie joked, making Sam and Colby turn to her with concerned expressions.

See, not always appropriate.

“Sorry, bad joke.” Dobie chuckled, looking down at her combat boots before looking up and sighing- placing her hands on her hips. 

“Look I…” She racked her brain for what she could possibly say to make this better. To smooth over this hurdle and just, continue on. 

“I’m not mad at you, Colby.” She started, looking towards the brunette man. Dobie’s eyes trailed over to her blonde boy, “You two are best friends, I’m not- I won’t come between that.” Her words were firm; holding no room for argument.

If this were any other situation, Sam would’ve found it hot.

Dobie’s foot tapped against the kitchen tile and Colby felt ashamed at how his heart matched the beat of the thumps. “Please, not even demons could come between us.” Colby said, an attempt to lighten the mood.

The quirk of Sam’s lips told him he was successful. Dobie dipped her head down as she laughed, the corners of her eyes wrinkling.

The three stayed silent for awhile, waiting for someone- anyone to come up with a solution for this mess they were in. It was obvious that nobody had one, yet they all trusted each other enough to rely on each other for one.

Dobie’s eyes widened. They all trusted each other.

“The three of us.” She spoke up, pushing herself off from the counter and allowing a smile to infect her face. Colby and Sam’s brows knit together, “What?” Sam asked- Colby nodded along, equally as confused.

“I mean- it’s the best idea we’ve had so far.” Dobie shrugged happily, looking between the two men. “Dobie, what idea?” The brunette asked, it took everything in him not to smile at how relieved Dobie seemed.

“D’you guys remember that story I told you two, when we visited the conjuring house- the first time?” Dobie asked, looking between both men swiftly. Colby thought for a moment, “About the time you almost hooked up with-” 

“No, Colby, the other one.” Dobie’s tone was one of playful annoyance, which made Sam stifle a laugh. Both men thought quietly before Sam spoke up, “About your girlfriends in high school?” He asked- head tilted in a way that made the top of his hair flop over ever so slightly.

Dobie nodded, walking over to her boyfriend and snaking her arm around his shoulder- “Exactly!” She called out, smiling brightly.

“I’m confused.” Colby said honestly, Sam nodded. Dobie sighed, dropping her hold on Sam and walking over to the brunette boy. Dobie grabbed Colby’s hands and gently tugged him over to Sam’s side of the kitchen, once there she grabbed Sam’s hand with hers.

Colby’s hand in her left, Sam’s in her right.

“I’m okay with having multiple partners.” She spoke slowly, knowing for some people it was a complete turn-off. However, she trusted these boys to listen and not judge.

Sam was quiet, thinking deeply about her proposal. Colby spoke first, “I’m not dating Sam.” 

Dobie and Colby laughed at Sam’s joke-hurt expression, “Well good news, dingus, that’s not how all polycules work.” Dobie informed.

“I can date both of you, without you two dating each other.” She added, Colby thought for a moment.

Could he really do that? Could he really just…share a girlfriend?

“I mean, we already share a channel.” Sam

joked, making Dobie throw her head back with laughter. “And a house.” He added- this time making Colby laugh.

Colby supposed both things were true, he’d trusted Sam with his career, his living space, and even his life at times.

If there was anyone Colby trusted being in a polycule with, it would be Sam and Dobie.

“I..” Colby shook his head, this was not the direction he expected this conversation to take. “Okay, fuck it.” He shrugged, laughing as he looked between Sam and Dobie.

Sam laughed, leaning into Dobie’s side- relieved that the three were able to come to a conclusion that didn’t involve the end of Sam & Colby.

The three were exactly sure how this would play out, but the three trusted each other and that’s what mattered.

Later, when Colby turned on Dobie’s favorite movie he couldn’t help but smile as Dobie curled into his side. Surprisingly, he found he didn’t mind when Sam curled up into Dobie’s side- a bucket of popcorn on his lap.

Dobie found she didn’t mind being in the middle.

a/n : hey so i love them the most actually

taglist !! : @mattsbows @justagirlexisting @cyberskulzzz

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + one

authors note: hi! this is a complete rework from another roman story i wrote but needed to redo. it's a mafia au, so understandably super dark. a 'blink and you'll miss it' bit of a beauty and the beast retelling. not meant to be anything groundbreaking or unlike most mafia stories.

i've found that my writing is best when 2nd person pov, so i wanted to challenge myself to make this third person to better my writing, thus, bear with me, ya'll. :)

if any cw/tw's are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, mention of parental death, vague hinting at past sexual trauma

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes' by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 5.2k

Through trial and error, mostly error, a lot of error, Solana Miller has learned and mastered most of the things that upset her father. 

Speaking out of turn. Meals not being ready on time. The house being a “mess.” The actual list is a living, breathing thing that grows with each day and every unfortunate occurrence, but always at the very top of this list is lack of punctuality. 

There’s nothing Xavier Miller hates more than lateness. 

And that’s exactly what she is. 

Solana nearly faceplants into the three steps leading into the house with how fast she’s running. Her shaking hand and sweaty palms make it take longer than usual to unlock the front door, and the force in which she slams it shut behind her should be enough to knock the nearby family photo off the wall.

The photo that doesn't include her.

She’s brushing off invisible lent as she rushes into her father’s office. “I’m sorry, there was an—” Her panting mouth snaps shut when she reaches the doorway, hand holding onto the frame of the door. “—accident.”

Not only is she late, but she’s now interrupted some sort of meeting that he wanted her present for. 

The minute Solana saw the flashing police lights and array of red brake lights was the moment she realized that she was in for a brutal punishment. She’d started to mentally prepare for such, trying to recall if she’d restocked the first aid kit kept in her bathroom.

A frequently retrieved item.

But, it’s not until she’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, an office that’s filled with not only him and her brother, Wes, but other men, that she realizes the ferocity of this punishment may be unlike any she’s received in some time.

Xavier’s eyes land on Solana with faux happiness that conceals flames she recognizes as a precursor for what’s to come. Naturally, like he’s not imagining all the cruel ways he can hurt her, in a way that only he can do, he slaps on a tight smile. “Ahh, there she is.”

Solana also realizes how almost everyone’s gaze is on her, and that doesn't make for a good response because she finds herself asking, “what’s going o—”

Xavier’s smile is very much unlike the ice in his voice. “Silence, child.” 

The sharpness of his command evokes an immediate response. Her shoulders slump and head drops. The displeasure just keeps growing. Solana can already feel the bruises forming, the sting of the ice on her busted lip. 

One of the men, an oversized, middle-aged white man with a sharp gaze, speaks. “I take it, this is your daughter?”

“It is,” her father confirms. If she didn’t know any better, Solana could almost swear there's a hint of pride in his voice. “Please forgive her lateness. She knows the importance of obedience.”

And the repercussions of disobedience. Repercussions Solana knows await her once this meeting ends.

“I hope she does.” The same white man clears his throat. Solana hears the ruffling of papers but refuses to look up. Her gaze is better served focused on the ground, her silence and submissiveness certainly music to her father’s ears. “We received the requested medical report, and it appears you weren’t lying, Miller. The girl is still a virgin.”

That….that is the moment where it takes all willpower for Solana’s head not to snap up, eyes wide with both confusion and partial recognition. She’d wondered why her father asked her to schedule her yearly check-up with her GYN when she wasn’t due for another couple of months but knew better than to question, so she went ahead and did it. 

And she wondered why this checkup was so….different. Labs were taken, more questions asked, and a vaginal exam that had her leaving more uncomfortable than she’d ever been with Dr. Boyd. Not that seeing the woman was ever an enjoyable time in the first place. She's cold, stoic, an obvious doctor on the mafia payroll, but she's still a woman. 

Solana can't have a male GYN. She can't have a male doctor in any sort of specialty.

The confusion, however, comes into play at this man’s words.

“The girl is still a virgin.” 

That couldn’t be farthest from the truth.

“Her blood work also indicates she should have no problems conceiving a child.”

Emotions overpower reason as Solana breaks her silence and lifts her head. “What?” One furious glance from Xavier, and immediately, she knows that she’s fucked up.

She also realizes that she’s failed to notice one very important member whose sheer size takes up almost the entirety of her father’s onyx loveseat.

Solana has heard the name Roman Reigns more times than she can keep track of over the years. It’s inescapable to live in this life and not know of the brutal ruler of the Bloodline, one of the most notorious mafia bosses in the underworld. But never in any of her 28 years has she seen him in person. Maybe somewhat in the same vicinity but never in close proximity, not like now where he’s sitting mere feet away from her.

He’s reclined back into the seat, thick legs spread, a blank expression on his handsome, bearded face. His features are sharp and predatory, yet there’s something about his eyes, a beautiful, light shade of brown that’s such a contrast to the cold blooded killer he is. Bulging, rippling muscles seem to be at battle with the plain black shirt he wears, and she notices his silky black hair is pulled back into a surprisingly neat bun of sorts. 

Solana knows that she shouldn't stare, but it’s hard not to. The man is objectively beautiful. He’s also staring directly at her. 

Panicked, her head drops down, eyes returning to continue counting the amount of beige swirls in her father’s persian rug. 

“Shut up…. ”Wes speaks from the other side of the room. He’s leaned up against the column near the bookshelf, lazily spinning around the pocketknife he never goes anywhere without. 

It’s the same knife that’s cut into her skin at least more than a couple of times over the years, drawing various amounts of blood depending on the extent of his anger.

Wes is always angry.

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Heyman.” Solana doesn’t even need to be looking up to know her father has his hand over his chest, that faux sense of honor painting his harsh features. “I would never disrespect the Tribal Chief by wasting his time.” Solana’s throat goes tight. “My daughter is a worthy candidate.”

Candidate. Heir. Virgin.

It doesn’t take long with these major clues for Solana to piece together what they’re discussing, why her presence was required when never before has her father wanted her anywhere near one of his meetings.

Arranged marriage.

They’re discussing a possible arranged marriage between Solana and Roman Reigns. 

Her fingers flex and suddenly start to rub nervously against the soft material of her dress. Any appetite she had prior to entering the home is no longer present, vacated, replaced by a thick, heaping layer of anxiety.

Arranged marriages are far too common in this life. There’s not a week that’s gone by since she became of age that she doesn't hear about some union between two members of rivaling or partnering families. It's just how these things are done.

However, at 28, much past the typical timeline that daughters are married off, she’d accepted that that was not her fate. And she was okay with that, more than okay. Is okay with that.

Solana has a……complicated relationship with men, anyway. With people in general, but especially men.

The thought of her being paired off to Roman is so bad that it’s almost laughable. Their compatibility is in the negative range. He would never give her a second look, not even a first. A man like him needs someone who matches his prowess. She isn’t even on the radar.

And yet…..

And yet her father has somehow garnered interest, provided his counsel with her medical information “proving” her worthiness, and secured a meeting.

Circling back around to the medical report has her chest feeling tight and heavy. Lies. Her father has clearly paid off Dr. Boyd to write up whatever he believed needed to be said to increase his chances of locking in this deal.

She doesn’t know about the fertility portion, never really bothering or concerning herself with that part of her health. Someone has to have to have sex to conceive a child, and as far as Solana is concerned, that's never going to happen.

Not....not again.

But, the virgin part is most definitely a lie. The physical exam certainly would have confirmed that.

And yet, the exact opposite was stated. 

Chills instantly move down her spine. Her father is perpetuating a fraud. Even more, he’s perpetuating fraud to a man who’s rumored to have a body count in the thousands. The same man he’s trying to pawn her off to.

This….this is not good.

It’s not good at all.

—----------

“She’s weak.”

That’s the first thing to leave Roman's mouth since they entered the Miller Manor, and it’s not announced until they're back in the SUV and on their way back to his estate.

Checking emails and clearing notifications that piled during the time his phone was tucked away, he continues. “Too young. Has no backbone. It’s embarrassing.” Roman’s tone, much like everything else about that pointless meeting, reeks of boredom. 

“Her father clearly has her on a tight leash,” Rikishi adds. He brings the handkerchief he keeps in his shirt pocket and swipes it across his forehead, dapping up the light sheen of sweat that’s already formed in the walk from the house to the SUV. “But, a very pretty girl.”

Roman cannot and will not disagree on that. She’s undeniably beautiful, but everything else about her is unappealing. And saying Miller has her on a tight leash is an understatement. She’s terrified of him. The brother too,  and Roman would take a solid guess that one of the two is responsible for the slightly faded but still visible bruise he noticed on Solana’s upper forearm. 

There’s some conflicted emotion present at that piece of information, though he mostly leans in one direction.

Women and children should be off limits. Specifically, women and children who aren’t already indoctrinated into the life to the point of training. Roman knows plenty of kids who completed their first kill while still in single digits and women who fight better than some of his men. For them, it’s free game. They’ve proven they can handle themselves.

Solana doesn’t fall in any of those categories, and he’d be shocked if she even knows how to hold a gun.

Thus, in his mind, she’s off-limits.

Nonetheless, his family is full of fighters, regardless of sex.

So there's the other part of him that can't understand her passivity, that believes she's just weak. 

The thought process generates a list of other, much more adequate options. “What about Belair?”

“Engaged to be married in the Montez family.” Roman rolls his eyes. That fucker is an irritating prick. Seems like a desperate match. 

“Cargill?”

“She….” It’s slightly comical for Roman, watching the older man work his hardest to explain what was inarguably a disrespectful rejection. “---is not interested.” 

A dark chuckle leaves his throat. “She said fuck off, didn’t she?”

“More or less.” 

Roman smiles. He would expect nothing less. Cargill is a beast of a woman, a sure fun time in the sheets if she would ever remove the stick from up her ass.

“If I may, my Tribal Chief….” When Roman remains quiet, he takes that as his cue to continue. “The girl may be young and docile, but that also makes her moldable. She will do whatever you want with no protest. Is that not a possible advantage?” Roman continues to look out the window, allowing Paul to add on, “and she will have no problem giving you an heir, which is inarguably the most important thing at this point in your life.”

“He brings up a good point, uce,” Rikishi chimes. “With your temper, it’s probably best for you to take a wife who is more passive than dominant.”

Logically, it makes sense, but the idea of a stuttering, stammering wife who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than a minute doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. 

“And as far as age, she’s closer to 30 than anything. You go for any older, and you might run into fertility struggles. This is the perfect age.” Rikishi’s crooked smile is followed by a small chuckle. “You ain’t so young yourself anymore, uce. Gotta have an even balance.”

There’s a difference between a balance and a child. Roman is prepared to say as such when Jimmy speaks, deciding to add his two cents from the passenger's seat.

“Look, Big Dog. All you need is for her to give you a kid, and you heard Paul. She can do that. Ain’t no need in making this bigger than what it is.” His insertion and contribution to the conversation ends up being valid. Granted, if he was anyone else, the delivery would have resulted in a maiming. But, this is Jimmy. He’s like a brother to Roman. Him and Jey. Hence their privilege with speaking so bluntly. “Shit, and did you see that body? Mannn, I’d never pull out of that.”

Also a valid point. Her dress was fitted around the chest area, accentuating heavy breast he could most definitely see himself palming as he fucked her from behind. The rest of the dress wasn’t as contoured, but it flowed against her shape when she walked in, and he could make out the curves he was certain she preferred to keep hidden. It’d been a while since he’d taken a woman to bed with a body like hers, a preference, but also not as easy to find in his world of fit assassins and killers who spend more time in the gym than anywhere else.

His latest set of women were on the slimmer side, moderate thickness, nothing like this girl.

But sexual desirability aside, her passivity indicates she’d be….that kind of woman. The woman who expects words of affirmation and quality time. A “gentle” kind of woman who’d want him to be sweet and patient in the bedroom, to make love to her. Roman is neither and none of those things.

He fucks, and he fucks hard. Subsequently, his wife should be cut from the same cloth. 

“Just….think about it, my Tribal Chief, hmmm?” Paul’s voice is tentative, laced with that tone that indicates he believes the decision should be made sooner rather than later. Granted, he values his life and standing in the bloodline, so he opts to not implement time constraints. 

A wise decision. 

“The scars.” Roman counted eight of them total, the one most pronounced on her face, slashing across her right eye and into the top of her cheek. The type of scar that’s embedded into the skin. And the soul. With a few of his own, it’s one of the first things he noticed. “What’s the story there?”

Paul quickly pulls out the portfolio from his briefcase, hurriedly flipping through papers when he settles on the one he’s looking for. “Ahhh….” Paul clears his throat, a telltale sign that’s he uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “2005. It was a hit. Her mother was killed in the attack. Knifing. Solana survived, clearly.”

Roman turns his attention from the passing cars to look at his Wise Man. For the first time since this whole interview process began, Roman is intrigued. “She was there?” Paul confirms as such and says something else, but Roman’s attention is out the window again, haphazardly watching the flow of traffic, assimilating and accommodating this new piece of information. 

This may be the one and only thing he can understand about this girl. Something…something he can relate to. 

Survival

One doesn’t go through something like that without coming out on top or letting it bury you. Unlike him, she’d clearly gone the latter route. Granted, just making it out alive, physically, he knows better than anyone, is a feat in and of itself.

“Give me her file.”

—-------------

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was…..a day.

I’m not even sure where to begin, because I’m not sure what to even feel at this moment to be honest. Dad is trying to marry me off to a mafia head, which would be fine, except….except that head is Roman Reigns. He’s….he’s a monster, mama. Has no soul. Not that many men in this life do, but there’s something about him that’s even more terrifying than the others. To make matters worse, dad had Dr. Boyd lie in my medical report. She wrote that I’m still a virgin, I guess something about my hymen still being intact. Mama, that’s a lie. There’s no way that’s possible. 

Not.....with what they did to me.

I’m trying hard not to panic, because there’s no way Roman would go for me. He’s a monster, yes, but even Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel. He’s a very handsome man. He would never want someone like me.

I don’t know any man who would.

“Solana.”

Solana quickly snaps her journal closed, using the pen in her hand to mark her spot. She’s met with the gentle smile of 73–year–old Meryl Jensen, a widow who’s worked at this library for almost forty years.

Solana still remembers the first day she met Mrs. Jensen. She was 6-years-old, and her mom was looking for a certain book she’d read about in the newspaper. A book that she hoped would further and better her English speaking skills. A native of Mexico, Nina Miller taught herself English by immersing herself into American literature, film, and music. 

Similarly, Nina taught her Solana Spanish by immersing her daughter in Spanish literature, film, and music. A secret among the two as an always hostile, paranoid Xavier “banned” Nina from teaching their daughter a language he couldn’t understand.

If he couldn’t control it, it was a no-go.

But it was when Mrs. Jensen was helping Nina locate her book, Solana noticed another book sitting near a kids display. Goodnight Moon.

If Solana tries hard enough, she can still remember the warm smile her mother gave her as she allowed her to check out the book, her very first "purchase" from the library. It started a love of books, aided by Mrs. Jensen who always provided appropriate recommendations to Solana and her mom.

Not that Solana tries to think too much about memories with her mother. They’re almost always ruined and replaced with the sounds of the butcher knife slicing into her mother��s body as Nina used the last of her strength to shield and protect her daughter from the violent assault that would end up taking her life.

Solana’s smile, however, does dim and her stomach drops when she realizes that Ms. Jensen isn’t alone. 

“This girl is always writing, I swear.” It’s only when the older woman refers to her book that Solana quickly closes up her journal, shoving it to the side.

Her eyes never leave Roman though.

And his certainly aren’t leaving her, even as Mrs. Jensen places a hand on his arm, laughing at her own joke.

Mrs. Jensen then squints her eyes and leans over the counter. “Child, did you fall again?” It takes a second for recognition to dawn. She’s then hit with the memory of her father backhanding her across the room, the force sending her to the floor after the dispersion of yesterday’s meeting. A truly pale punishment compared to some of his prior assaults. “My goodness.” Mrs. Meryl laughs, shaking her head. “An everyday klutz I tell you. I can’t think of one day she hasn’t come in here without some kind of mark from her clumsiness.”

Roman’s staring directly at Solana while acknowledging the older woman’s casual observation. “Interesting.” He then darts his eyes, offering a smile that, if one didn’t know any better, could be considered genuine. But Solana does know better. She knows much better. “Could you give us a moment?”

Of course, Mrs. Jensen obliges, saying something about hushing up some boisterous high school students on the first level before it’s just Solana and Roman. 

She has a million and one questions, starting with why the hell Roman Reigns is at her job. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good. A man like him only brings about chaos and mayhem.

And death.

Swallowing and powering through the onslaught of anxiety, she starts off in an unsurprisingly soft voice, “if you’re looking for my father, he’s—”

“If I wanted your father, I would be speaking to him right now.” Roman’s interruption is dangerously calm, but Solana detects a hint of irritation. “You’re the one I want.”

Oh.

What in the world this man could want with Solana is beyond her. To make matters worse, Solana catches his gaze on her bruised cheek again. Makeup could only do much, but she's really starting to wish she went for heavier coverage. She drops her head, focusing on the denim of her jeans to avoid his burning stare. “I—umm.”

Solana’s body registers before her head does that Roman is lifting his hand to touch her. She responds accordingly, jumping back and away from the interaction. He chuckles, darkly, lowering his hand to his side. “That was some fall.”

Solana unconsciously brings her hand to hover over her cheek. “I’m—clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” It takes a second for Solana to register his blunt comment and another for her to digest that he’s calling her bluff. “But, you are a terrible liar.”

He’s not wrong on either note, but she’s unsure just how to respond. “What—what do you want from me?”

Roman straightens up, and just the sheer size of him makes her swallow in fear. He’s a beast of a man, more beast though than anything else. “To make sure you understand what this is. It’s obvious Miller didn’t inform you about the meeting, and I won’t go into anything with anyone unless they’re fully aware of what they’re signing up for.”

If he’s waiting for Solana to acknowledge the first part of his reason for showing up at her job, he does a poor job waiting because he goes straight into his disclaimer. 

“I have no desire to be with you or any other woman for anything more than a sexual release. We’ll ensure my bloodline continues, but that’s it. Financially, you’ll want for nothing, and I can assure you, your clumsiness won’t be an issue. But, I will never love you, never see you as anything more than a business arrangement because that’s what you are.” He’s studying her facial expressions, reading all of the emotions oscillating around. “Do you understand?”

There’s a couple of different thoughts racing through her mind at this moment, but the dominant thought is wondering just what in the hell would possess someone like him to ever even consider someone like her? He is the definition of brute strength in all areas. She is beyond broken. There can’t be anything appealing about that.

But then….maybe there is. Roman knows she will not cause him any trouble, can recognize this brokenness and sees it as an easy way to get what he needs while still having the freedom to do whatever, and whoever he wants. It’s a bit of a win-win. 

And as far as the love aspect…..

Solana learned a long time ago that all of the fairytales lied. There is no prince that rides in and saves the damsel in distress. No one to swoop in and save you from the monster. It’s either killed or be killed, and her death already occurred on August 7th, 2005.

As ironic and fucked up as it is, Solana recognizes this is the best deal she’ll ever get in her life. 

With quite literally nothing to lose, she acknowledges him.

“I understand.”

—---------

The minute Solana steps into the house, she’s immediately shoved into the freshly painted wall behind her. A strong hand is on her throat, restricting her breathing.

“What did you say to him!”

Fingers foolishly grasping at the hand suffocating her, Solana tries to speak even with knowing that it’s impossible when she can’t even breathe. This only pisses her brother off even more. He bangs her head into the wall, causing the nearby pictures to shake. “Answer me, you stupid bitch!”

“Let her go, Wes.”

Xavier’s command is followed with a delayed acquiescence. Solana falls to the floor, coughing and gasping violently. She brings her hand to the back of her head to check for any blood, but her gaze is soon on the black leather shoes her blurred version is able to make out.

Solana cries out when her father grips her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him.

“We know Reigns came to see you at your job today.”

At some point in her life, Solana would be stunned and partially disturbed this, by how her father is aware of this piece of information.  But, this is no longer that time in her life. That time when she was naive enough to think that she could ever escape this life, ever leave and never look back.

She’d tried once. Foolishly. And it landed her in the hospital for two weeks. 

Solana can still remember her father’s dry, cracked lips pressing an insincere kiss against her temple as he said in the calmest yet coldest voice. “You ever try to leave this place again, and I’ll make sure to finish the job.” 

That was the last time she ever fooled herself into believing better waited for her.

“Now, what did you say to him?”

“I—I—nothing.” It’s not a lie but not the entire truth. She didn’t say anything that should have pissed him off. Then again, with a man as temperamental as Roman, anything and everyone could piss him off. Look at her dad and brother. “What did he—”

A phone ringing possibly saves, or just delays, the next set of hits. And even better, it’s Xavier’s phone.

He pulls it out of the back pocket of his pants, eyes lighting up. With a mischievous smile, he taps the screen twice, answering, “my Tribal Chief.” Solana’s eyes widen. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Cut the bullshit, Miller.” Roman’s deep, baritone voice is powerful and authoritative, even when he’s not even in the room. “You know why I’m calling.” And before her father can further upset him, Roman jumps straight to the point. “We have a deal.”

It’s been some time since Solana has been so thoroughly surprised by something she’s heard that she briefly loses awareness of where she is. But this….this is one of those moments. 

He can’t…..he can’t have said what she thinks he just said. Her acknowledging understanding was just a formality. She didn’t think he was actually considering marrying her.

Xavier’s smile is broad, signs of a man who just got exactly what he wanted. “Wonderful. We shall start planning.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will be two weeks from today.”

The tightening in her chest has returned. Solana is certain she’s about to start hyperventilating. This….this can’t be happening. 

Xavier and Wes share a look as he stammers with a response. “Uhh, yes, of course—whatever you wa—”

“Oh, and Miller?”

Irritation flashes in Xavier’s eyes, but he shoves it back for a polite acknowledgment. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“You or your boy lay a single fucking finger on her again, and I’ll gut you both where there’s nothing left to bury.”

Solana is almost certain there’s not a single one of them that’s not taken back by Roman’s icy warning. However, she swallows when her father’s fire gaze lands on her. She knows immediately she’s in for a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

Xavier laughs quietly. “That girl has always been so clumsy. I assure you—”

“One.”

Xavier is understandably confused by Roman’s single-word response. “Pardon?”

“Everyone gets one chance to lie to me. You’ve just used yours.” For the briefest hint of a second, Solana believes she sees fear flash in her father’s eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

The phone disconnects. 

Silence settles over the three of them, but it doesn’t last. 

“I–I don’t understand.” Solana finds her voice, unable to stay quiet in a moment that’s completely just changed the course of her life. “I–I can’t marry Roman.”

For a lot of reasons. Many reasons that she can list out and defend if given the chance.

Solana is consumed by her thoughts and pending mental breakdown, so much so that she misses when her brother stalks across the room. He throws her back up against the wall, and the minute her eyes land on the silver, she’s frozen in place.

His grin is predatory and satisfactory as he murmurs, floating the knife in front of her. “It seems you’ve finally made your existence have some type of purpose.” Solana has to close her eyes. Just seeing knives sometimes brings her back to that night, and having one pressed against her….

Wes knows exactly how agonizing that is to her, hence his favorite method of torture. 

Swallowing, she weakly protests, “you—you told them I’m a virgin.”

That’s a major reason why. Her father has made her out to be some chaste, pure woman when she’s anything but. And to lie to Roman, of all people, about something like that.

They’ve more or less signed her death decree.

“No. Dr. Boyd’s medical reports confirmed you’re still untouched, and you’ll go along with it for however long is necessary.” Xavier’s rebuttal is smooth and to the point, like he doesn’t see the issue with his actions.

He never does. 

“Don’t you understand?” Wes lazily slides the knife up and down her skin, smiling at the terror in her face. It’s his greatest motivation, witnessing the extent of her fear toward him. “We’d let Reigns and his entire bloodline fuck you if that’s what it took to get what we want.”

Solana has no shock value at his words. Wes stopped caring anything for her the minute she got their mother killed, and it’s not as if she can entirely blame him. 

Nina would still be alive if not for Solana. It’s something she accepted ages ago, an undeniable truth. 

However, she does have to ask in a pained voice, “what do you want?”

Xavier supplies, taking a hit of his cigar she didn’t realize he was holding this whole time. “We want and will have control of the bloodline.”

If not for her current situation, she’d laugh. Control of the bloodline. That’s….that’s not even a dream. That’s a delusion. Still, there’s an undertone to his voice and words that alarm her. In a quiet voice, she protests. “That’s—that’s impossible.”

Solana hisses as Wes presses the knife deeper into her throat, nicking her skin and drawing blood. “No, it isn’t, not anymore. Because we have a way in.”

And it’s with widened eyes and a constricted throat that Solana finally understands what’s happening, what they plan to have happen. 

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “No….”

Xavier answers with a cruel, wicked smile. “You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

[henneseyhoe]

I JUST READ THE MELO SMUT🥵🥵so good can you do another one we’re he’s obsessed with the reader like he’s always posting her and showing her love or even like him being overly obsessed and a little dark

CLOSER.

Lamelo x BLACK!FEM!reader.

WARNINGS:!!SLIGHT CNC!!, daddy kink, stalking, mentions of blood and death, k!dnapping, mentions of mental health, kn!fe play(kinda), breeding if you squint, crying(as always), reader is a tad bit delusional, no protection(wrap it before you tap it)

Ps. I feel like being a perfectionist and overthinking fucked this up for me but I can’t keep holding this damn request hostage 😩 so I hope you still enjoy this, it’s LONG lmfao.

Pss. I thought I lost this request, whole time I just had to scroll down LMFAOOO

✮✮✮✮

“Damn, girl. This like the fiftieth love note you’ve gotten this month!” Karina exclaims, looking down at the stack of notes on Y/Ns counter, the girl adding one more from today into the pile. Truthfully, Karina had been sick of seeing them, disgusted by the amount she got weekly. “Girl, stop! It’s not…maybe fortieth” Karina makes a face, side eyeing Y/N with slight scornful expression. She was more than weirded out at the creepy gestures not moving her friend even a bit. Karina on the other hand, got goosebumps even looking at the letters. They were creepy to her, and every time she read one about this mysterious person confessing their love to her bestfriend, she grew more concerned for her wellbeing. “Like that makes a difference, Y/N. You don’t find this shit kinda..weird?” Y/N shrugs, not seeing the point in looking deeper than the notes themselves. A part inside of her liked the attention she got.

“No, not really. It’s kinda sweet!”

“Sweet?! this man, woman, thing, whatever the fuck! Has been writing to you for almost five months now and has not shown their face. You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“I dunno. Maybe they shy, Karina”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t trust it, I don’t like it. What if it’s your ex?” Y/N laughs, taking her jacket off and setting it on a coat hanger in her closet before heading to her kitchen to prepare a meal, Karina following closely behind her to continue her scolding.

“You are so dramatic, you know that? Me and Jason haven’t talked in so long, I doubt it. I haven’t even seen the nigga around”

“So? Nothing about me is dramatic, I’m telling you the truth. That’s more than a secret admirer, that’s a stalker”

Y/N shrugged her off, laughing once again, and further annoying Karina with her lack of urgency to get down to the bottom of the situation at hand. “Stalker? What is this, a lifetime movie?”

“No, it’s real life. that’s why I need you to stay ready for whatever, especially with that creepy ass message your ex sent you after your breakup”

Little did she know, her friend was right all along. It wasn’t her ex, but someone who was far more demented and delusional. Lamelo had been sending eerily specific love letters to Y/N’s house for months, but had been watching her for well over a year now. Almost as soon as he saw her, his last obsession became a buried memory, Y/N now being in the forefront of his mind and sticking there like double sided tape to itself. After some time, he knew her from top to bottom, back to front, and soon, inside and out. If it was up to him, she would have always been his, but he wasn’t the best with approaching women of Y/N’s caliber. She was smart, a college student studying computer science, and none of his silly mind games that’d usually trip up other girls he was interested in would work on her. He had to up his game, and so, he set his plan in motion until he got her in the right place to sink his teeth into her.

✮✮✮✮

“Be safe, okay?”

“Yes, Karina! I won’t get murdered or chopped up over my vacation week, I promise” Y/N joked, but Karina was dead serious, finding no humor in her mess. Y/N’s smile drops, and she becomes serious, mostly so Karina would leave her alone about those ‘silly little notes’. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be safe” she reassured, both the girls finally saying their goodbyes with a loving hug and wave. Closing the door, Y/N sighs. Karina was her bestest friend in the world, but sometimes she could be overbearing. Y/N felt maybe she needed a bit of attention since her recent breakup. She craved it, really. It didn’t matter if the attention was physical or something with a little less contact, Y/N wanted it. But, It wouldn’t go farther than that, she didn’t need a rebound.

Walking into her kitchen where she just finished preparing dinner, she began making herself a plate of spaghetti and freshly toasted bread. The smell of the food made her stomach growl. She knew if she didn’t give Karina a plate of her own before she left, she’d complain that Y/N hogged all that good food to herself. Satisfied with the plate she made, she grabbed her a fork from the dishwasher and sat down at the dining table. Taking a generous amount of pasta on her fork, her mouth watered just as she was about to send her tastebuds to food-heaven.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The girl pauses, praying whoever the hell that was would go away on their own so she could finish eating.

Knock, knock, knock.

Damn. Her lights were on, they knew she was home. She sighs, her fork lowering back down to her plate. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth, she unsticks herself from her comfortable seat, grumpily making her way towards the front door. Oddly, she saw no one through the frosted glass frame placed in the middle of the door, so she was forced to open it up and see what was going on.

“Hello??” She called, aggravated by how she had to leave her hot dinner just to answer the door and be met with silence. Stepping out on her porch a little, her eyes scan her yard, though nothing but darkness surrounded. Shaking her head, Y/N slams the door shut and locks it. “Stupid ass kids knockin’ on my door. One day imma stick my foot up one of they asses” She rants, walking back to her little set up. Feeling happiness again, she takes that lovely bite of food and does a little dance in her seat.

As her eating progresses, she couldn’t help but to notice her vision blurring, creating two of everything around her. Her head began to spin, and her heartbeat could be heard in her ears mid bite. She had lost her appetite completely by now, currently only focusing on not throwing up all over her table.

‘Where’s my phone?’

She could have sworn she had set it right next to her plate, but it was no where to be found now, even in her corrupted vision. Holding her head in her free hand, she gags at the sudden smell that fills her nose. It was a faint smell, but noticeable. sweet smelling, almost. Ironic for the bitter moment. Her brain told her to stand, and she followed suit, but she couldn’t stop the weakening of her knees or how slowed her breathing was getting.

Her body hit the floor with a ‘THUD’, her limbs feeling completely weighted down, and her consciousness slipping from her as she laid on the cold tiled floor, unable to move.

✮✮✮✮

There she was. Finally where Lamelo wanted her to be. He was so jittery and giddy about his successes that he could scream, but he held off on that till he was alone. His letters, fake pages, dms, and Instagram likes had finally paid off. He had her all to himself, and finally, no one was in his way. Not her colleagues, not Karina, not even her ‘crazy ass’ ex. He had gotten rid of him as soon as tension rose in their relationship. Jason hadn’t seen REAL crazy till he met Lamelo, and he made sure he knew that before his last breath.

The first time Lamelo and Jason interacted was when he witnessed their first relationship fight, which was fairly petty, but Melo didn’t see it that way. He had left a reeeal lengthy note on Jason’s dorm door, describing in step by step detail about how he would gut him like a fish, cut him up into tiny pieces and send every single bit of him off to his ‘helpless whore of a mother’, as Melo described her as. Of course Jason was shaken up, rightfully so. But obviously not shaken up enough to back off.

After not talking to Y/N since the argument, Jason appeared on her porch with that same note, tearing her a new one. He thought Karina was playing jokes on him for arguing with her bestfriend and making her cry. He took his anger out on her, yelled up a storm, and burned up the letter in his hand with his lighter, leaving it on the poor girls porch to stomp out as tears flowed from her glossed brown eyes.

Lamelo took the whole thing as a challenge. Did he really think Karina was on his level of literacy? That note was too well typed for it to be her. So, him being the man he was, made his threats come to fruition. He easily beckoned Jason into close arm reach by teasing him on his campuses basketball court as Jason was doing solo drills. Lucky for Lamelo, he trained at night.

Walking himself into the low lit court, Lamelo began taunting him, which stretched over three whole minutes. Knowing the hot head would react with physical anger, Lamelo kept a guard, and as soon as Jason tried him, Lamelo revealed the bat he held behind his back, swiftly taking a mighty swing at the man’s left leg, hitting right below his knee. Jason couldn’t have possibly seen it coming.

“Right out the park!” Lamelo continued to tease with a wide smile as if blood wasn’t splattered on his shoes. Red spilled from the back of Jason’s knee from his bone completely breaking and stabbing its way through his muscles and skin. You could have heard the snap of the bone and the sound of him hitting the floor echo through the gym, a sound Melo wanted to hear, but Jason’s loud screaming ruined getting the full effect. “I guess this is the part where I run to base” Grabbing the man by his destroyed, bloodied leg, Lamelo drags Jason off of the court as he screams bloody murder.

Lamelo instantly began regretting not bringing anything else to knock him out with without killing him, but every mastermind had slip ups. a shame somebody is gonna hear his screams and probably have nightmares about it now though. Not that Lamelo cared about either parties wellbeing, he just didn’t wanna hear his or anyone else’s mouth.

Then, in Lamelo’s basement face down, Jason continues to cry like a baby while Lamelo took a much needed drink break for the sake of his sanity, or what was left of it.

“How the fuck am I supposed to play ball now!?” Jason heaves suddenly with a quiet sob leaving his dry lips, his coffee colored hands holding his thigh as the blood spilling slowed. “You genuinely thought you were gonna get that far?”

Before Jason had time to attempt to answer, two bullets were already lodged into his skull, one exiting from between his eyebrows and one through his left eye socket.

✮✮✮✮

His daydreaming was cut short by Y/N mixing in her seat. Her consciousness had finally came back, but confusion quickly filled that space in her mind that was once occupied by unconsciousness. She looks around, not recognizing anything around her. “Look who’s up” Melo leans up from his seat in front of her, peeling off the ghostface mask he wore just for dramatic purposes. Y/N’s eyebrows knit together. “I know whatchu thinking. Where am I? Who are you? I’ll tell you all that later. But, for right now, we’re gonna celebrate” He smiles, and tosses the mask, standing from the couch he sat on.

Walking over to a small bar, he pours an unknown drink into a glass. Y/N had no idea what was going on, nor did she really care to find out. She was too worried about all the guns and knives that were laid out on the floor next to his seat. Fear pumped up her body with adrenaline, her entire being tingling. She wanted to jump out of her seat, but her arms were tied behind her back, and her ankles were tied to the chair’s own legs.

“I wanna make a toast. To a new life, and new love” He held up his glass and drunk some of the mystery liquor. Waking over to her, he holds the glass to her lips. “Drink” he instructed, Y/N shaking her head and looking away. “Why not? You think I poisoned it or somethin’?” He takes his hand and grabs her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “I wouldn’t do that to myself, so drink” he insists.

Looking back at him, her eyes trace his features, stretching down his long, tatted arms. Creepy shit aside, she thought he was cute, but she had to stay focused. “If you don’t drink, imma just force you” Y/N didn’t budge, but Lamelo had no problem with setting her straight early on. Gripping the sides of her face to make her open her mouth, he tilts her head back roughly and pours the drink into her mouth. The liquid went down smoothly, but burned her throat like hell. She didn’t drink, she never did because she got drunk easily, and Lamelo knew that.

She jerks her head away with a strong gag, tears welling up in her eyes. “I dunno if you realized yet, but I’m the one in charge, I’m the one who ain’t tied up, I’m the one that could end you like *snap* that” he threatens with a snap, but it holds no weight to him. He wasn’t gonna kill this one, or at least he hoped he wouldn’t have to. “I know you’re a smart girl, so I know you can listen. I didn’t go through all those letters to find out you can’t follow simple instructions, pretty”

Her eyes were drawn to him, anger now flickering within them like a flame in a dark room. “Letters?…You were the one writing those fuckin’ letters?” She spoke through clenched teeth. Lamelo smiles. “Surpriiiise~” he sings, gulping down the rest of the alcohol before slamming the glass down on the floor. The glass shattered into pieces, making Y/N jump at the sound. Her breathing was ragged, and pressure built up behind her eyes like a dam waiting to be cracked open.

“You’re a sick person” She spoke with distress, shaking her head. Melo shrugs with no sympathy. If he had a dollar for every time someone said that to him, he’d be a Rockefeller. “Everybody sick, I just have no problem showing mine, unlike the rest of society”

“Jesus Christ” she muttered, her head hanging low in regret. Karina was right all along, and she didn’t listen. If she did, she wouldn’t be in this position, her life in the hands of a man she didn’t even know. “Don’t act so sad. You’re gonna love me…or at least learn to. again, you’re smart”

“I don’t wanna love you. I wanna go home”

“You are home. Don’t be stupid” He spat, waltzing by her and picking up a blade from the floor, inspecting in. Y/N tenses up, Lamelo immediately noticing. He side eyes her with a slight smirk, mischief infesting his energy. “You think imma cut you, Y/N?” She kept quiet, but he continued to pry. “You think imma scar that pretty frame you got? What about this beautiful face?” He walks over to her, using the knife to swipe a box braid out of her vision. Y/N sniffles, taking a deep breath.

“Let. Me. Go”

“Or what?” Lamelo challenged, getting close to her as Y/N gave him a look, one he couldn’t make out or tell if it was anger. “You can’t do shit, I made sure. I tied you real good. Your friend thinks you went on vacation, so if you aren’t answering tomorrow, that just means you made it safe and you’re having fun. Maybe found yourself a fun fling that’s distracting that pretty mind. Somebody you invited up to your room” he continues, the tip of his knife swiftly making a cut into her gown with a quick swipe, making the thin fabric fall from the top of her body, pooling into her lap.She wanted to cover her naked body, but the rope restraints stuns her movements.

“Would you take me back to your hotel room, Y/N? I would have been a great candidate” the sadistic nature of him alone had her terrified, he could have done anything to her. She began shedding tears. She was exposed now, realizing the gown wasn’t even something she remembered wearing or buying, so he had to have put it on her himself when she was knocked out.

If he pulls the rest off, she was for sure fucked, no pun intended. He stares with no shame, the tip of his tongue grazing his plump bottom lip.

‘Fuck’

She attempts clenching her thighs together to stop the tingling, but it never subsided, and her brown nipples getting as hard as pebbles helped nothing. She wanted to keep a guard up so badly for her own safety, but the wetness coating the lips between her legs was telling her to do something else.

He notices how her legs were trying to move and her hips slowly circled, unintentionally trying to find a specific position to stimulate her clit. She couldn’t help it, she just wanted the tingling to stop. “Lemme help you wit’ that, ma” Melo smirks, putting his hand right under her soaked pussy. She stops immediately and lifts her butt as much as she can, feeling the warmth of his hand under her. She shakes her head ‘no’, but he nods a ‘yes’ and keeps his hand placed, kneeling on one knee in front of her. “Go ‘head” He says. The approval he gave her lingered in her head as the tingling intensified, giving her no choice but to fall into temptation.

Y/N hesitantly lowers herself down and begins to move against his hand, swirling, bouncing, and grinding down at the speed she wanted as her hips stuttered backwards every time his finger tips would swipe over her clit. She let out a stifled moan and threw her head back, rocking her hips faster as she felt herself climb closer to her end. Lamelo only fed her urges by bringing his hand up higher every time she’d raise her hips when the feeling got too strong, aiming to stimulate her clit through even the strongest parts of her orgasm. His dick was as hard as an iron pole in his pants now. It almost painfully pressing up against the material, the tip leaking precum just practically begging to be set free so he could fuck something, and soon it’d get its turn. Y/N could just see it through her eyelashes, she couldn’t help but look, it was so obvious.

Lamelo slides his fingers between her wet folds, collecting her slick to keep her clit wet while she used him as she pleased. “Speed up” he instructed.

✮✮✮✮

Fifteen minutes had passed and she had already came twice in the palm of his hands. Her seat was sticky and her thighs were wet, but Lamelo’s hand and arm were wetter. He slid his hand from under her and took a taste of what he had craved for so long. All of the timeless nights he had spent looking through her bedroom window, watching her feel, fuck, and taste herself, wishing he was there to catch every drop.

Feeling defeated, Y/N’s head lulls backwards as she rests her eyes on the ceiling above her. There was no other sound but the ringing frequency in her ear and the huffing of her breath trying to slow itself. She could hear her own heartbeat slowing too, just until the sound of wood creaking above them drowned the sound out. She pauses, her eyes shooting wide.

‘Who could possibly be here? could they help?’

Was what she began thinking as all the color from Lamelo’s face seemingly drained, his breath now still. Suddenly he reaches for the knife he held earlier, grabbing it from the floor and clutching it in his hand. Just in case someone had creeped down the stairs to the basement and witnessed what had been going on, he had no problem getting rid of whoever was responsible for ruining their moment.

The walking upstairs prologued, the hot tears that filled her eyes starting to flood her flushed cheeks as he placed a finger over her lips, signaling her to shut up. The cold blade of his knife pressed against the skin of her throat, so hard that she could practically feel her pulse and she was holding her breath purposely, scared the blade would cut her precious soft skin if she moved even an inch, and he cared less.

As the footsteps went away, distancing from them, he moves his hand. He lets out a much needed breath of relief and licks his lips, a smile growing on his face. “Roommate. Thought we were goners there for a second. You did good though, ma” He praises, standing from his crouching position. “I think you deserve a treat because of that”

Positioning his knife under the rope that held her feet in place, he looks up at her with a warning look before cutting both of her legs free. He walks around the chair and does her hands next, giving Y/N the room to rub her aching joints, feeling relief. Only one thought ran through her mind just then, and though she was tired from the recent back to back orgasms, she knew she only had one chance to get it right. So, she stood like a lamb taking its first steps, and took a run for it.

‘Please, please, please’

She pleaded in her head over and over again as she ran though the large basement, hoping to find an exit. Just as she had spotted a door at the end of a dark stairway, light of freedom shining through the cracks, her body jerked backwards and spun in the opposite direction, the miss placement of her sore feet being the reason why she hit the floor. The taste of iron filled her mouth from the gash on the inside of her lip, her teeth accidentally biting down on it as she went down.

She thanked god that carpet covered the floor or else she would have definitely knocked a tooth loose, and maybe lost one. “Run pretty fast for someone who’s been tied up for hours” He flipped her over so easily, prying her legs open so he could kneel between them. He admired her entire body as he held both her wrists down above her head with just one hand so he could capture them in a pair of cuffs, making sure she had no fighting chance this time. She couldn’t believe his hand was big enough to hold down both, and even with her struggling, he didn’t budge once.

✮✮✮✮

The take down was rough, but when he fucked, it was nothing like she expected. He slid his shaft along her clit, the pink bud erect and sticking out from her hood. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping against her pussy with excitement, the tip of his dick slapping the bottom of her belly with every bounce. He pulls his hips back, the tip of him now resting against her dripping entrance, ready to ruin her for the next, if Lamelo didn’t get to him first. “Stop..” She mutters, but deep down, she was really anticipating the contact.

Her sexual organs were completely against her once again, fogging her mind with thoughts of him she didn’t want and didn’t expect to have. She was forced to sit there, pondering on how he felt and how deep he could go inside of her, but she no longer had to wonder as he pushed his hips back forward to give her a taste of what she would be stuck with for the rest of her days.

He sunk into her slowly, her walls gripping him as a welcome upon entrance. He practically had to force himself inside with a drawn out sigh as Y/N sucks in air, both of them exchanging looks into their eyes before looking down at where they connected. Her stomach involuntarily sucks in, showing the bulge of his dick every time he thrusted forward with skill into her. The feeling deep down was so indescribable, so good that she almost cracked a smile. She hadn’t even noticed how much he was stretching her out, she was too busy feeling every inch of him.

Her eyes rolls back and her toes curled as she brought her legs back further for him, Lamelo smiling at how he didn’t even have to tell her to do so. He was just proud that she was learning, but she had much more to get down pact.

“Good girl…” he rasps.

“It’s so fucking deep” She whispers, her voice slightly hoarse from her throat being dry. As his hips tempo changed, the chains connected to her wrists made jingling sounds, making music with the clapping of their thighs joining in the harsher he got. He couldn’t tell if his bodies reaction to her was cause he hadn’t had sex in a long time or if she was just that damn tight. Meanwhile, YN was Lost in clouds of her own, feeling the repetitive push of Lamelo’s tip knocking against her g-spot, her own cream starting to slip out of her and drip down to her ass.

“This pussy grippin’” Melo compliments, one of his hands moving downwards to grip at the girls throat, making her tear up once again.

“Yeah? You like it?” She spoke breathlessly, the man above her nodding and laying a singular kiss on her lips, making her swoon momentarily before going back to her struggling whimpers.

“Mhmm, fuck” He moans. He never moaned, but he guessed she was changing him too.

“Call me daddy”

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, what’s my name?”

“Daddy! Fuck!”

“You so fuckin’ pretty, mamas” he groans out, almost whimpering as his dick pushed inside her further and further. She felt like he was trying to make her cervix a home for his dick with how deep he was going. Y/N began to think how they had gone too far for her to ignore how she was enjoying every bit of this. No matter how much she tried to tell her pussy to stop cumming for him, she continued, making the carpet under her soaked with her honey. Hours ago she wished her hands were untied to beat his ass, but now she wished they were uncuffed so she could trace his tattoos while he dug her out.

He was hitting spots that not even her ex man was hitting.

Using her thighs for leverage, he begins to fuck her in a push-up position, ramming his long dick directly into her coven, her walls squeezing him almost like she was showing thanks without words. Her juices made it easier for him to fuck her with no limit, slipping and sliding into her with no trouble apart from how tight she was gripping.

He didn’t hold off to cum either, he had already came twice, but he had more to give her and she had no choice but to take it. He was convinced he could imprint on her, and it was a bonus if his seed grew inside of her after all this hard work he put in. She was gonna stay with him, and he was gonna make sure of it.

✮✮✮✮

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 7

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8900

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers

A/N: I wrote this in less than a day and none of it followed any of the plans I had for this story. This new laptop makes it too easy to write and it might end up adding extra chapters to this fic. Sorry and you’re welcome.

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

The silence that sat down atop both of your heads after that door closed tight, leaving you and him completely alone together for the first time in literally forever was about as loud as anything you’d ever experienced. 

Kyungsoo stood just inside of the drab entryway and you had been lingering closer to the hallway that would take you further into the shelter. You watched his face for a while, trying to gauge the mood he would be in to find himself trapped in here with you for at least one night, maybe two if things got wild at the hospital and Mr. Chen wasn’t able to get away as he promised. 

How would he feel about this? The relationship and you used that word strictly for lack of any other word to describe the you and the him, had been strained from the start, downright hostile at times, and only very recently kind of sort of settled into this civil agreement in which you did not antagonize him and he did not antagonize you -- much. 

It wasn’t a friendly relationship for he himself had told you quite brutally last night that he had no interest in being your friend, but lately, with the interactions that had grown just a little bit softer, the chat you’d had with him out on the patio as he made you ramen and teased you about your sexual optimism, the silly time passing game of stating a personal preference between two completely inconsequential things and you found, much to your surprise that you and he shared more than a few minor tastes in common; the fright you had been triggered into with the spiders in the movie and the genuine comfort you felt from him; it felt almost as if something somewhere might be changing. Were you, just as you had been with the threat from the fake spiders, simply imagining the entire thing? 

“Well, shit,” Kyungsoo whispered mostly to himself after the heavy door slammed shut and you looked up into his face to catch the smallest furrow of his brows and the frown of his lips. 

Was this a worst case scenario for him? Trapped alone with the girl he never wanted to be trapped with? Having gone out of his way all those months ago to ditch her on that stupid blind date and she just had to be pathetic enough to pick a fight with him about it, and then about anything and everything she could find to fight about and just when he thought he’d escaped that nightmare of a person she shows up here and not only is she forced upon him by the staff here but now he’s somehow charged with feeding her and entertaining her? You could see it in his face. He looked disappointed as evidenced by the furrow and the frown.

You pulled your arms up and crossed them over your chest, pulling your eyes down and away from that disappointed look you saw in his eyes and you made a deal with yourself then and there; you would not be a burden. You would keep as good a distance as this situation allowed and behave yourself as far as your temper or your tangled feelings for the man were concerned. You wouldn't let it show just how far down this pathetic rabbit hole you’d fallen of uninvited attraction and unrequited love. You’d treat him with disinterest, maybe casual civility that a shop worker would get, or that old man at the grocery store who made a friendly joke about the price of eggs and you provided the required perfunctory laugh at exactly the right pitch and tone to be deemed socially acceptable. That was what you would do, you would perform as expected by society in such a situation. 

It wasn’t his fault that you’d allowed this little crush to fester deep inside your stomach; and for a man who didn’t even desire friendship from you. It wasn’t the first time you’d let your heart run away with your mind. It didn’t have to happen with this man. 

You felt a slight burning in your stomach, just below your breastplate and you placed a palm over the space where you felt the pain. You knew enough about your body to recognize that you were just feeling the aftereffects from the panic from earlier. It always came as an upset stomach that burned and ached usually for hours after your heightened emotions had run their course. 

“What is it?” You hadn’t expected his attention but he must have seen your hand sink down hard just over the space at the top of your stomach. He must have noticed the look of discomfort on your face that you quickly blanked away with the drop of your hand. 

“Nothing,” you said flatly dropping the subject entirely before he had a chance to probe or suspect more of you and you lifted a hand to half shrug into the air, “umm… did you want to finish the movie or … maybe play another game?”

His lips parted and he closed them up, his eyes briefly leaving your face and glancing behind you into the dark hallway from where you both had come. 

When he didn’t answer you right away you inhaled to speak again, before you sounded like his own liability that he had to deal with, “you don’t have to do either, if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to entertain me or anything, I can figure something out for myself if you just want to be alone.”

You’d already spun on your heels, determined with your newfound resolve to be exactly as aloof and unaffected by anything he said or did as required by society to keep the peace; taking the first few steps away from him and turning back toward the dim light from the open kitchen door that you could barely make out as a direction in which you should travel.

“We could,” the first sounds of his voice stopped your steps and you turned your face in his direction, not committing to turning around the whole way, “play something, if you want.” 

“Not Monopoly again, I swear to God,” you said with a finger lifted into the air and you heard the soft chuckle that came from behind you. 

“Awww, my little Princess didn’t like the bitter taste of defeat?” You could hear the joking tone in his voice and weirdly that strong feeling of uncertainty you’d felt only moments earlier seemed to change with the teasing tone he used with you. Changed into what? You wouldn’t say, but it was only a slightly more comfortable feeling. There was a burning sensation just under the skin below your cheekbones and you thanked whatever god was responsible for putting you in this darkened hallway during this moment for the cover that would keep the blush from being noticed by him. You were imagining the softness you heard in that nickname. This man did not hold any affection for you. 

Inside the kitchen you returned to the familiar set up that you had left, only it felt wildly different. Gone was the soft comfy feeling of the mattresses on the floor, the pillows set up at your back and the fluffy down winner’s blanket sat in a tangled clump on the floor beside the bed that you both had occupied. The briefest of thoughts flittered by -- would you be able to smell him in it now? That clean, crisp fragrance he seemed to carry with him, would those microscopic molecules be wound into the spaces in between your one thousand threads ready to drift inside of your nose, bringing you back to the moment below the blanket when his fingers intertwined between your own and he held your hand, keeping you grounded and still connected to this world. The comfort he had given you then, but why? To keep you from embarrassing yourself or maybe him? You couldn't find the reasoning for it anywhere inside of you, but this wouldn't be the first time that man did something you couldn't understand. 

The burning was back. You had an absentminded hand running over the spot on your belly and your feet carried you to the spot beside the fridge where the water bottles sat. You ‘d seen an electric kettle there and you busied yourself grabbing a mug and heating the water. Behind you, Kyungsoo was looking through the games again, trying to find something that he could no doubt destroy you with again. Your heart wasn’t in the fight this time, you felt too distracted. 

The water was heated and you poured some into a cup, finding that plain hot water always soothed your stomach the best and you returned to his side to peer over his shoulder holding your mug. 

He glanced over at you and down at the mug, making no comment about either, and then he held up a game. It was your game. It was the first game, a word game you’d picked to play with a nostalgic and hopeful glint in your eye. 

“We can play this one, if you want,” he said with a bit of a whisper as if you two weren’t the only ones in this entire building, “it’s still fun even with only two people.”

You nodded and took a seat near him but not close enough so he could cheat and look at your letters and he quietly set up the game, not once looking directly at your face for too long apart from the smallest of brushes with his eyes into yours as he handed you bits and pieces for the game. 

You settled into your seat and took a good long look at the letters you had to pick from, picking a few up and shuffling them to see if you could come up with something good and after a few moments you settled on something that was actually pretty decent, especially for the first round. The realization pulled a small smile to your face and you grabbed the letters to place them on the board. He’d already told you that you could go first and as you began placing your tiles on the board you looked up to find that he was watching you, of course he was; you were playing the first word. This word would determine what he could or couldn’t play from his letters. 

You played your word and did the math, giving yourself a nice start with 20 points and you wrote down the number on the pad of paper and looking up at him expectantly. You had expected him to be paying attention to the word, to be impressed by your intelligence. You had managed to spell that word on your very first go. You had expected him to feel thoroughly challenged by the force he had to reckon with. 

He sat there though, his eyes watching you but something about his mind seemed disconnected from the game. Your smile at your own move slipped just a little bit, falling flat because he hadn’t even looked at the word you played yet. He just sat there with his shoulders relaxed, his unshuffled letters sitting there in front of him, he didn't even have his fingers on them, rearranging and thinking as you would have expected. He just sat there -- it was odd. You lifted your chin and wiggled your head, lifting your eyebrows and you heard an inhale as he took a deep breath and exhaled as he slowly pushed the air through his lips and when he was empty his eyes closed up. He gave his head a little shake back and forth and finally, finally his eyes left your face. 

Finally he was looking down. 

“Oh you played that, hmm,” you heard him mumble and he was back. All at once, his fingers were touching lightly over his letters, picking some up, moving them, shoving some aside, actually thinking about the game in front of him instead of whatever in the world he had been so distracted by. 

You lifted your mug and took a sip, feeling the warmth of the hot water warm the inside of your stomach a little bit. The pain was still there even after another sip and you looked down at the mix of letters you had thinking of what word you might play next. You adjusted your posture some, lifting a hand to rub just below your breastplate again, wishing that knot would just go down and be done so you could win this game already. 

Kyungsoo had played his word, counted out his points, and wrote a sad little 16 under his name. You were already winning. The self-satisfied smile was back, it had replaced the wince on your face when you realized you already had your next word. You played it quickly and tallied up your numbers. 24 -- He really didn’t stand a chance. 

You heard the scrape of chair legs and the sound pulled your attention up to the man who was standing up and walking away from you toward the kitchen cabinets at the back wall. 

“It’s your turn, Kyungsoo,” you called toward his retreating back. 

“I know, I’m just getting something real quick,” he called without looking back at you and you heard him inside the fridge, heard him pulling something out and he was slicing something with a knife on a board. The kettle was going again and you heard a metal spoon hitting porcelain as he stirred something into a cup. 

He was back quickly with two mugs in his hand and when he returned to your side he’d place one of the mugs in front of you. 

The color of the water inside the cup was a pale yellow and you saw a single disc of sliced ginger floating on the surface. You could see the string and tab from a tea bag in his mug. 

“Honey and ginger,” he said as he busied himself with playing a word on the board game, “for your stomach,” he added as if you’d made an announcement at the start of your game that your stomach was hurting and he was just responding to that. 

You hadn’t said a single thing to him about it. In fact, you had thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding it from him. You hadn’t let him see you frown or groan or cry out in pain once. The worst you did was lightly massage the space where it hurt the most. 

You lifted his offering to your lips and took a sip expecting it to be too hot for you to drink comfortably and finding the temperature rather mild actually. You took another bigger sip and felt the soothing warmth slip into you. It was sweet with the honey he added and slightly spicy from the fresh ginger he’d added. It was delicious. You’d never tried this for your stomach aches before but it seemed to actually be helping. You took another sip and swallowed, finding that the burning lessened with each sip you took. 

Kyungsoo silently played a word and you watched his mouth moving as he added up his points and wrote down his score of 20. 

You smiled widely. He had just played the letter you needed to play your next word and with the orientation of the word you would be able to get the bonus points. You were already laying your letters out on the board and counting out your points before he’d even had a chance to replace the letters he’d used on the last word. 

“Oh come on, what? You gotta give me a chance to catch you,” he groaned in annoyance that didn’t really seem to sink too deep into him for him to really mean it. You could still see the smile on the edges of his mouth and in his eyes. You did a little victory wiggle in your seat, wrote down 50 points under your name, and even stuck your tongue out at him with a giggle. His eyes slipped down your face and his lips had been pulled into a smile, despite the fact that he was losing this game miserably. 

He pulled his head back a little bit and looked up into the air above his head. A quick glance at his pieces told you he still needed to replace letters and so you held up the bag with the open end toward him. He was still sulking about the heavy blow and you had to reach out to touch your fingertips over the back of his warm hand to get his attention. You gave the bag a little shake and you had his eyes in yours again as he reached into the bag, pulling out tiles and groaning at the letters the universe had decided to give him. 

“Ugh,” he was groaning with each new letter he pulled out. His eyes darted over the game board and occasionally slipped back up into yours, probably because you had been watching him for signs that he had something good to play. It didn’t seem like he did. 

“Blegh,” he made a disgusted sound,  complaining again. “What am I going to do? What do I do, what do I do?” he repeated to himself as he pondered his brand new fate as a loser of this game. 

In his hand, he held only two tiles and he hovered lightly over a space on the board. You giggled when he set them down. It was the saddest word you’d seen in a while. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat me, Kyungsoo,” you sing-songed playfully watching him spell out the word ‘SEE’ for only 5 points.

His hand moved and he spun his letters around, showing you very quickly the hand he had. You saw a slew of vowels, mostly the letter E and everyone’s least favorite burden a single solitary X. 

You were openly laughing at him now. His cheeks were pink and he was reaching into the bag to select his replacement letters and when he pulled them out he tossed them in disgust. They both landed flat on the table, face up with a clatter. He had thrown them there. You looked down to see two more Es and the sight threw you back into a noisy fit of laughter that seemed to be catching. You could hear him giggling beside you and he gripped the Es in his fingertips and tried to put them back into the bag. You snatched it up quickly and held the bag of letters out of his reach so he couldn't cheat and put them back in. 

“No no,” you gasped through the giggles, “Think of words with lots of Es like meet, umm, teeth, f-feet,” you said through a strained voice and you were laughing again at the look he shot you at the mention of the words that brought up a very recent sore memory for him. 

“Teeth and feet?” He said with his eyes wide, “You really brought that up again?” He exhaled through his teeth, his lips pulled wide in frustration. He was leaning now, reaching desperately past your game pieces to where you still kept the bag of letters out of his reach to keep him from cheating, even though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to catch up with you even if he replaced all of his letters now. He had scooted his chair closer to you and you reached for his desperate hand, gripping around his fingers and pulling his hand down into your lap, holding it tightly there and leaning into him to help you gain some leverage against him. He was quite strong when he wanted to be but he seemed to be letting you hold him back like this. He definitely wasn’t putting his all into this struggle against you. Something was off with him. Kyungsoo had never held back on that chance to be terrible with you before. 

Instead, he had moved in too close to you and after the small playful struggle, you felt the warmth of him all over you. You had been giggling as he reached out with his other hand, reaching again for the bag of letters you held out of his reach and you felt the tips of his fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulled your arm down. It was a bit of a stalemate and you heard the soft laughter from him settle and go curiously still, when you opened your eyes you found his face in front of yours. You had his hand inside of yours down on your lap right over your thigh and he held your other hand with his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist.  You hadn’t expected this level of closeness from him, the shock you felt radiating through your chest had taken the laughter out of your voice and left you stunned in a frozen silence instead. 

You suddenly felt hyper-aware of your own body. He was so close to you, that you wondered if he was able to hear how noisily your heart was pounding inside of your chest, or if he could hear the stuttered way your breathing moved in and out of your lungs. 

God, he was beautiful up close. His skin was clear and he had a scattering of tiny moles all over. The small freckle in his upper lip seemed to have a presence all of its own and you struggled to look away from him. Your eyes roamed over the length of his face. He had long since stopped laughing and he had even stopped reaching for the bag, stopped struggling against your hands and he was watching you with slow blinking wandering eyes over your face that seemed to settle again heavy and deep inside of your eyes. 

You exhaled a breath you had been holding through your parted mouth and his eyes slipped down to look at your mouth when you moved. This was something. Something was happening here. Something that shouldn’t exist with the intense animosity he’s always felt for you. Something between you and something between him. You could feel it in the way your skin flushed, the blood in your body seemed to seek refuge in some place that wasn’t in your veins. You found it difficult to breathe with him so close and those eyes of his didn’t let up, they didn’t let you go, you felt so much more trapped here in his eyes than ever before. Your ears picked up on the smallest grunt of effort from somewhere in the back of his throat, then the smallest inhale of breath lifted his lungs, and finally, finally, he closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve lost this game,” he whispered through closed eyes with a sudden tight clench of his jaw. 

He was leaning. He was moving. You watched the sway of his balance and he moved closer to you, impossibly closer and the fingers he’d wrapped around your wrist released their hold, that hand was moving. You felt the first tiny touches of his fingertips as he moved his hand to touch your face lightly and achingly slowly along your jawline. You felt as if you could burst into flames at any second and judging by the heavy puffs of air that left his lungs, something similar was happening to him too. 

He leaned into you, close enough for a kiss but something stopped him. You felt and saw the lean though. He pulled back half a centimeter and it felt like he was at war with himself. 

You watched his face as he did it. His eyes, he kept them closed up as tightly as he could and the hard clench of his jaw did not let up. 

He was touching you though. His hand had moved and his thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip and his fingertips dug in behind your ear. His other hand, the one that you held in your lap had moved too and you felt a squeeze from his fingers as he clenched tightly around your hand. 

Everything about him was tense. His jaw, his hands, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

This man was very purposefully attempting to regain control of himself and resist whatever it was he was feeling by being this close to you, by you touching him, and by him touching you. Your own self-control felt thready. How easily you could snap in two. How flimsy your resolve had grown around him. 

You’d long since dropped the bag of letters. You felt the need for the warmth of his soft skin under your fingertips. So you reached for his face, delighting in wonder at the smoothness your fingertips traveled over, even with the hard clench of his jaw he felt so warm and inviting and he was still so very close to you. He smelled so good, it was overwhelming. You wanted him. 

He was so very close; close enough for you to feel every quick burst of air that came from his nose against your lips, close enough for you to so easily lean your face into his and press your lips up against the softness of his mouth.

So you did it, you did it -- you leaned into him and you kissed him on the lips, relishing in the softness you felt when his lips gave into yours so, so easily, it seemed to come like second nature when you had actually worked up the nerve to do it. 

There were almost imperceivable changes in him when you did it; when you kissed him. The hard clench in his jaw let up with the soft grunt of surprise that came from the back of his throat and in his hands; the loosening of the tight grip he held you with on your face as he simply let go of you entirely for the first few seconds of this kiss from you. 

The next change was less subtle, you felt the careful way he caved to your lips. The tilt of his head paired with the parting of his jaw and he leaned into you further, pulling your soft bottom lip into his mouth then pulling you again, your upper lip. When he moved again you felt the tip of his wet tongue guide along your teeth and reach for yours with that same suction he had pulled against you which you gave to him, giving him what he wanted, feeling very much out of control now with greedy the way he sucked on your tongue. The kiss was too much in an instant. The undeniable attraction you felt for this man had taken every bit of rational thought and tossed it out the window, carrying them all away with the wind outside. 

His mouth and teeth and tongue nipped inside of your mouth, pulling at your lips and he was moving, peppering tiny kisses, bites, and nibbles along your jawline as he moved lower to taste the skin below your ear. 

You reached for him again, reaching a hand forward for his waist and lower, you’d lost your mind when you touched near his belt, slipping the tips of your fingertips in between the denim fabric and feeling along the elastic waistband of his underwear. Feeling the very clear bump of his arousal and the warmth of his skin there.

His hand flew up to stop you and you heard the soft groan that came from his chest against his will. You could feel your labored breathing taking your chest and heaving it up and you shook your head back and forth at the nerve he had to stop you. You wanted him, you wanted the sex. You were beginning to feel desperate for him. 

Kyungsoo leaned his forehead against yours and his hands now had a strong ironclad grip on your wandering hands. You felt the very slight movement of his face back and forth. 

No. 

He was telling you no. 

You had to take a genuine moment to absorb it. He was telling you no. You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath and you inhaled the no, the refusal, the rejection took its time coming at you slowly in a big old sluggish wave and your breathing was beginning to calm down now. 

“Kyungsoo?” You called out lightly, feeling just a bit upset and even more confused as to why he would have kissed you back so intensely if he didn’t want this. 

“I,” he opened his mouth and pulled his head back, “I don’t—” his words were broken, staggered, and fractured, “I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You don’t want me like that.” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking him a damn thing. It was a stark realization that you had simply misread his actions as affection. 

“I don’t mean that,” he began, his voice clearer and with slightly more urgency than the staggered speech from earlier, he inhaled and swallowed, licking his lips as his eyes searched over your face. 

“I don’t do that lightly,” he exhaled and furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes and looking into your face again, “I’ve never slept with someone outside of a relationship. I don’t do it. This can’t happen. We aren’t going to have sex.” 

He had released his tight grip on your hands now that his reasoning was out and you sat there feeling just a little bit foolish for having jumped so quickly straight to sex. You felt the embarrassment hit you hard and you closed your eyes through it and shook your head, straightening your back and removing your hands from within his fingers and pulling them back toward you as you carefully busied yourself with straightening your shirt back out. This felt awful. You reached down for the mug with the now cold ginger honey water and you downed the remains quickly, hoping that some of that sweet honey might coat your insides and soothe your fractured ego while it was at it. 

You felt the softness of his hand land over yours when you put the mug back down and you looked down at it, his hand covering over yours. You could feel it then, he was asking you to look at him. You had been embarrassed by the rejection and had been busying yourself with literally anything that wasn’t him. He’d given you time to process it and to get yourself under control before calling your attention again with the softest and most gentle pull of just the warmth of his hand on yours. You signed deeply, willing all of that oxygen to fill your lungs and power your brain well, and after what felt like several inescapable seconds passed you looked up into his face. 

He was watching you, no words on his lips and a slow and steady blinking of his eyes.

You swallowed before you spoke, “I get it,” you said plainly, biting down on your lip once before you continued, “I understand. You don't sleep around. I sleep around. You and I aren’t the same.” 

His lips parted and his eyes rolled over his face once before they sank back down heavy inside of yours. He inhaled a breath, clearly ready to counter your words. You knew you were misinterpreting his meaning. It wasn't even as if he’d called you a slut or anything, but goddammit that recent discovery of his. Him having found your 20-pack of condoms in your bag; you couldn't help but compare them to the single 5-pack he brought which he probably never even had any intention of using in the first place when you had every intention of using some of those condoms on this retreat. You would be goddamned if you didn’t get laid at least once on this trip. It had been so long for you, that you needed something from someone that made you feel desired and attractive to another human being. 

“You know,” he was speaking, his eyes had drifted closed and he was having trouble getting the words out again. Maybe he was about to tell you he was on his way to pray for your forgiveness for being such a slut. 

“You already know how I feel about you,” he whispered and pulled his eyes open. 

You looked at his face for a moment before your eyes wandered over the space above his head; giving the smallest head shake as a reply. Not really. He hated you for one minute. He laughed at you and teased you another minute. He made you ramen and tasty honey tea to soothe your upset stomach and beat you mercilessly at Monopoly but his cold hard facade fell apart when you teased him back. He was a mystery to you, whenever you thought you had figured something out about him, he would pull out the rug from under you and swear that no matter how desperate you were for it he would specifically not ever sleep with you. You felt that same familiar pain in your stomach flare up again. You hissed through it and inhaled a small gasp, doing your best to keep your reaction under wraps. 

His eyes narrowed and he dropped his chin, “you must know,” he said again, “you already know.” 

You must have flinched somewhere in your face. Those knowing eyes of his caught it and his head ticked as his eyes moved over you again. 

“How could I know anything?” You were beginning to feel like you should go lie down. You even felt a tiny bit dizzy the more you stayed here just withstanding this. Maybe a warm shower would help. 

“Sara told you. You know everything.” he threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling above his head. He had a sort of exasperated expression on his face now and you tried to focus on this conversation but you’d already been through enough of it. 

What had Sara told you? She had been so excited about every little interaction between the two of you that her words had been too exaggerated and overly dramatic to be able to trust what she said. Your mind flew through her words to you about him. About him saying how pretty you were. So what if you were pretty. The man hated you. He hated you. Her words, were a distant memory now even though it had only been a couple of hours since she said them. 

‘The way he looks at you -- If I didn't know that he was desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes -- he was desperately in love with you -- he is desperately in love with you.’

It was impossible. Sara was wrong. This man did not love you. He couldn’t love someone like you. 

Doh Kyungsoo had just rejected you for the third time now. The first when he stood you up on the date, leaving you to stew in the rejection, publicly calling you out amongst your best friends about it, basically ridiculing you again and again for your stupidity; how dare you really think someone like him could ever actually be interested in someone like you. The second rejection was shallower, the way he treated you when he found out you were here with him. You had the audacity to show up here and play pretend like you belonged here beside him; going so far as to reject even your offer of friendship, the lowest form of acquaintance and even that he didn't want. And now, reminding you of just how little he thought of you. 

He didn’t sleep with people he wasn’t in a relationship with. You’d offered yourself so easily to the man, practically begged for it but again, you received another rejection. 

Wasn't there a point in which you should give up on this? 

“I don't know anything, Kyungsoo. I don't even know you, remember? We never really even met each other.” You said it with such finality that his lips closed up and he pulled his head back. He seemed taken aback by the force with which you said those words to him. You stood up, done with this. There was only so much you could take. That surprised look on his face from earlier had flattened out and he was staring ahead of himself, not looking up at you. 

You stood there looking down at him for much longer than your pride should have allowed. Watching him staring ahead of himself with his silent lips and his bright red ears, his chest heaving up and down as if all of the emotions bubbling just below the surface of him could ever presume to break through that thick outer shell of a man who keeps everything inside when he should have just let it out. Goddammit Kyungsoo. But he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t explain and he sure as hell wasn’t about to try any more than absolutely necessary with you. You’d been the one to put yourself out there again and again for this man. You felt let down. 

“I’m going to shower and lie down for a while.” 

You took the first steps to leave, to walk past him and you’d made it three whole steps toward the door when you felt the warmth and strength of his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you back. He pulled you back roughly. You had been moving forward with such a momentum that the break in your stride caused you to stumble backward and you yelped out in surprise finding yourself pulled into him, pulled to where he still sat uselessly in that chair and the rough yank on your wrist sent you moving until you collided with a resisting barrier.

You stumbled on your feet and you bounced against him and the second you collided with him you felt the strength of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You felt the push of his firm chest hit against your thighs and in your belly you felt the point of his nose as he buried his entire face within your shirt, just below your ribs deep, within the softness of your belly. It tickled uncomfortably but you felt too stunned to do anything. You looked down in shock, seeing only the top of his head, his soft black hair fell into the fabric of your shirt and from his mouth somewhere you heard the softest moan that reverberated through your body. 

For lack of anywhere else to put them you rested your hands on his shoulders and you heard and felt him make another sound, a rough growl from his chest sounded out into your skin, buzzing into the skin of your stomach and his hands around your waist tightened to uncomfortable levels. He inhaled a deep breath from somewhere in the center of you and you found some semblance of some words to say. 

“Kyungsoo, what,” you began but his hot exhale warmed you on the exit and sent goosebumps cascading down your spine, taking whatever words you thought you could speak. After several breaths he lifted his face, propping his chin right against your skin to look up into your stunned and confused face. 

“What are you doing?” you managed. You felt too blindsided for more.

“Get to know me then,” he whispered up into the air and you wiggled against the tightness you felt in his arms matching the crazed look you saw in his eyes. He did not loosen them any, “get to know me, until you understand how I feel about you.” 

This didn’t feel real. It was impossible that this was happening. Was he serious? 

Your mind was spinning. You couldn’t reconcile the two versions of Doh Kyungsoo you were witnessing. The desperate way he clung to you told you one thing and yet, so much bad had already happened to tell you the complete opposite. This version clearly hadn't listened to a damn thing the other one had just told you. This one didn’t know about the no sex before commitment rule, the one that had his chance and squandered it, humiliating you in the process. But as tightly as you were wound here within his arms; you could feel your body responding to him all over again. You���d already been too affected by him before.

His eyes were looking up at you and you could just barely make out the tiny pout on his lips that was hiding within the fabric. 

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe that mug he had been sipping from had been full of whiskey instead of tea and this man was off his head right now. 

“What are you talking about?” 

He was moving with the question you hung into the air above his head. You could feel the slow way he moved his face, pressing himself against the softness of your belly again, breathing you in slowly and deeply as if every bit of sanity had simply left his body and this was a madman whose only purpose was to drive you as crazy as he was. 

“You know for someone who doesn’t want to fuck me, you are doing a terrible job of letting me leave this room.” 

Your own bluntness surprised you but you’d expected him to wake the hell up and release you so you could go take care of this problem he’d caused. 

“I never said I don’t want to fuck you.” He whispered it with his face hidden deep within the skin of your belly but the words echoed inside of you, hitting you hard with their heavy impact. 

The man was a menace. He’d just turned you down only to do this to you? You felt so turned on you almost couldn’t keep upright.  

You braced both of your hands on his shoulders and you pushed against him hard, pushing your hips backward too until he got the message and loosened his hold around you. The release allowed you to take a step back. His hands still lingered around you and you even felt one of his hot palms lying right over your ass, having slipped down from your waist he didn’t seem to be in too big of a hurry to take his wandering hands off of you. 

“Sorry, sorry,” his immediate apology told you that he knew exactly what sins he had committed against you, “I’m not in my right mind.”

You reached behind you and grabbed his hand off of your ass and brought it back around, dropping it down on his own lap. It landed with a flop in his lap and his eyes pulled deservedly down as he took on a much more sheepish expression in his face. You couldn’t tell if it was genuine. 

“You say one thing and do another, Doh Kyungsoo.”  

You felt ready to snap. “You say we won’t have sex, and that’s fine. I’m fine with that,” you said through wild eyes and even though you managed to get the words out, it felt like a lie. You weren’t fine with that. This hot piece of ass needed to figure himself out and in a hurry because you weren’t sure how much more of his torture you could take. 

“You seem fine with it,” you heard him mumble under his breath and your eyes widened as you lifted your eyebrows and looked at him. He lifted a hand and waved it lightly, “Sorry, continue.” 

“I was fine with it until you,” you lifted your arms and wrapped them around your body, doing a speed-run pantomime of him grabbing you around the waist, hugging you tightly and you even ran your fingers over the entire length of his face lightly, jumping back in pure frustration, “did all that to me, Kyungsoo. What the fuck?” 

The man who sat in front of you with his forearms crossed strategically over his lap ‘just so’ dared to smile at you. It was a tiny smile but you lifted a finger and pointed right at his face with a frustrated gasp. Again his smile, impossibly, widened.

“I am going to go take a shower. And I am going to lie down.” These words came out in a low growl. “I better not see you standing at that bathroom doorway.”

You’d spun on your heels for the second time to walk away from this man and you nearly screamed when you felt his hand reach for you again. This time he was standing up and you lifted your own hand in an 'I swear to god, give me a reason’ pose, enjoying how quickly he flinched away from you. 

“Wait, wait” he quickly spoke, not wanting to get smacked. You decided then and there that you weren’t above doing it. The memory of last night's tit punch was still fresh in your mind and you were feeling almost crazy enough to do it. 

“Just wait, goddammit,” he had the nerve to sound annoyed. He actually reached up and grabbed your raised hand and carefully brought it back down. “Come back later. Later tonight, give me like two hours maybe.” 

“What happens in two hours?” your eyes narrowed and your lips pouted just a little bit with the suggestive tilt of your head as your mind whirled through the possibilities. Did he just need two hours to decide that maybe you were worth a round or 20 of pressing your back into your mattress, or maybe his mattress? Hell, four mattresses were lying over there on the floor where the movies had been showing, you were not that picky. Literally this table here would suffice. Your face must have betrayed your filthy thoughts because he squeezed your hand and you heard a tiny laugh break free from him. 

He was laughing through his words, “Dinner. Just dinner with me. God, will you relax, please?”

His proposal sounded promising. Your eyebrows were lifted in curiosity without you even realizing it you eked out a tiny question for him.

“Like…a dinner date?” This sent a strange wave of panic through you. The tiny smile on his face and the little hum he made as a response sent butterflies flying. You felt at odds with the strange burst of nerves. The idea of having an actual date with this man was, well — you’d never once considered a re-do with him. Back then you’d been so offended, so humiliated, and so angry that the last thing you wanted was to give him a second chance. After a while, you’d even run out of any desire for him to explain himself for what he did back then. 

Perhaps a make-up for that botched blind date all those months ago that started all of this trouble was the kind of thing your heart craved deep down inside. You suddenly felt nervous. Sex was one thing but a date with him? Sex was just physical but starting this over again, a date with Kyungsoo felt too vulnerable. Why was that so much scarier to you? 

What if he didn’t show up? 

Wait, he was trapped here and he was the one doing the cooking. Plus if he didn't show up, you knew where you could find him. You’d beat down the door and kick his ass as long as he was hiding away in one of the rooms here that didn't have any spiders. 

His eyebrows lifted and the smile he was wearing on his lips was gone. 

“You don’t want to?” He asked the question and left his lips hanging open. You could see on his face that despite the false bravado he wore when he proposed the date, to begin with, he also was feeling a lot of the same nerves about it that you felt. His focus on your face was flighty, not quite able to commit to solid eye contact with you with this heavy question handing in the air like this. 

“Okay,” you finally answered in a whisper and you closed up your mouth and nodded your head up and down twice. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes watched your face and you caught him mirroring the same head nod. “Okay,” he also whispered. 

You nodded again and he was quiet as he looked at you, eventually looking away from you and looking around the kitchen space with a small exhale of air through his mouth. He didn’t move, but what was even worse was that you also did not move. You weren’t sure how to do it.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no this was awkward. Did you just say goodbye and walk away? Did you give him, like, a high five or maybe lean into him for a hug, God that would be terrible, Imagine? A hug, thanks buddy, thanks pal, thanks for letting me make out with you, sorry to freak you out when I got too into it and touched your boner because apparently that is a no-touchy zone, I did not get the memo about the boner. Should you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek? How did you leave this situation with at least one-fourth of your dignity, an acceptable amount for someone with your history of humiliating yourself, still intact? 

The kiss on the cheek might be okay, right? His cheeks were soft and his skin was smooth. You took the smallest step into him and you leaned in for it, but oh god, he was moving already. You leaned at the exact same moment that he spun around on his feet and began to walk away from you toward the doorway that led toward the bunk beds, which would have been completely fine except for the fact that he had seen you beginning to lean into him right before he moved. He had seen you move, he had seen you lean, but his feet had already stepped, his body had already begun the exit process and what resulted was a terrible, awful, awkward time in which he stopped walking abruptly and turned back around to face you, halfway toward the doorway, stuck somewhere in the middle of this kitchen with him again facing you and neither of you wanting to explain to each other with words why the journey to the exit had been halted so abruptly. 

“No,” you shook your head back and forth. His face was pink again. “No, just go. You already ruined it.” 

“What were you going to do?” 

“Doesn't matter. It’s over.” You sidestepped him and moved quickly through the space, placing your handle on the kitchen door and pulling it open. You hurled yourself into the darkness of the hallway, feeling just a tiny bit of irritation at the realization that you could still hear the sound of his footsteps very clearly. He hadn’t stayed behind in that kitchen but he seemed to be following you down the hallway toward the room with your bunks. 

“You were leaning, what were you leaning for?” 

“Why are you following me? I have things to do. Alone, Kyungsoo.” You emphasized the last bit while looking directly into his eyes and he was fighting his smile a little but he didn’t seem to stop following you until you reached the door to the bunks and stopped to look at him with your hand on the door handle. 

“I just need to get my bag. Then you can have the place to yourself.” He was already pushing past you, rushing through the room toward the bed in the back and he was grabbing a black duffel that he slung over his shoulder and he made quick work of the distance with his quick walking reaching the space in the doorway that you still occupied in no time. 

When he was back at your side you moved inside the room to give him room for his exit but before he disappeared through the doorway you caught an abrupt shift in his balance. When he was close enough he leaned into you and pressed his soft lips against your cheek, lingering against your skin for one second too long before he pulled back again and looked into your eyes. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected that at all and you had closed your eyes halfway through the lingering part and you had to act quickly to open your eyes up in time so as not to miss the smoldering look part. 

“Now, wouldn’t that have been awkward to do back in the kitchen when I was going to come all the way over here the whole time?” 

You’d opened your mouth and inhaled a breath to respond to him. You would have lied and told him that you weren’t going to kiss him in the kitchen, or that he was imagining things again, or maybe you would lie and say you took it back and you didn’t want to have sex with him ever. He had already disappeared and the heavy door slammed shut before you had a chance to think of a clever comeback. 

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

[porto-rosso]

olly you should tell us ur vision for the cassie solo, im on the edge of my seat

hi thank you for asking!! sorry for taking so long to reply. long post so its going under a cut

starting off what i really want for cassie is essentially a unique position within the dc universe. at the minute there are 3 wonder girls in the comics (hesitantly could include donna since she's appeared semi-recently as wonder girl in world's finest as well) so for character longevity's sake she really needs to find her own niche. additionally, having her just take up a new hero name feels stale and doesn't really separate her from any other ww character enough to give writers in the future a reason to use her. disclaimer everything i'm about to lay out is very pick and choose with what nu52-present storylines i'm using as canon.

the solo starts with Cassie en route to themyscira. she's kind of tried a year of uni but wasn't really interested in it and socially was still having trouble with the lack of a secret identity. she's not planning on staying in themyscira too long, kind of a gap year situation? just to hone some combat skills, rethink her place as a hero, general soul searching.

through some sequence of events cassie ends up taking up an apprenticeship with one of the amazon's blacksmiths (welcome back Io). keeping with the greek mythology aspect of the amazons, the first arc of this solo follows a 12 labours of hercules format where each issue follows a specific task cassie has been set as part of her apprenticeship. (also means we can get a few young justice cameos for tasks that take her off themyscira)

on the character arc side of things, i think cassie is super in denial about how happy she is with herself. through the arc, i've got the idea that she slowly starts presenting more masculine under the excuse of it being 'more convenient' (first big change, for instance, could be cutting her hair as keeping it tied up for metalworking all the time is annoying). Through a mixture of spending time in an environment mostly free from patriarchal influence (Io being a butch woman in a relationship with another woman is super relevant here) and just undeniably feeling more comfortable with the presentation changes, she gradually comes to understand that being a tomboy when she was younger wasn't something she needed to fix. (<- undecided on this specific way of telling it though because honestly i'd like her to have a bit of a breakdown and cut her hair then. for drama)

first arc ends with her completing her apprenticeship and still feeling a bit lost but much, much more secure in her sense of self. from here, it'd follow her moving back to gateway city and setting up kind of a magical weapons specialty shop, with the idea being that when problems arise in other books to do with magic weaponry/armor/ect cassie can appear and help for the issue (think how when there's a demon problem its highly likely jason blood will show up).

basically it all boils down to giving cassie some long overdue development and a unique skillset! love her character very much lol

[mrabubu]

I know we've seen bits and pieces of Ana's life as a kraang but what about her before turning into a kraang? Like what's her family situation? Does she has siblings? Neighbours she's closed with?

Had she ever went on adventures like April with the turtles? If ana & April were in the same school, did she met draxum as the lunch lady? How did she felt about him then? When casey JR met Ana from the past what did he felt about her?

And did how did Ana helped in the movie where the hamatos were fighting back? After the movie, was she hurt or helped taking care of the turtles?

Sorry for asking too much it's just sometimes am getting this burst of energy to ask questions about your AU 🙏🏼

Nah, it's okay, you're good ~ So, I've been having some ideas on Ana before she was kraangified, and maybe some of the details are my projection, but there's other character's I've been inspired with.

This post turned out to be long, so, yeah... But if you have any more questions, I'm like, totally ready to answer.

I'll go with more simple questions first:

Adventures with the turtles:

I had an idea that maybe it was Leo who was dragging her out on adventures. I thought of a different scenario with that episode when Leo accidentally teleported others somewhere, but before going to Hueso he would go to Ana and drag her out just not to be alone in this.

Ana and Draxum:

I never actually thought about Ana meeting Draxum, but now I kinda imagine there would be a joke about how Ana sneaks up on people unintentionally, especially Draxum because he thought she was unremarkable and he wasn't really paying much attention to her, and he would go like "Were you standing here this whole time?".

Ana and Casey Jr.:

With the story I have in my head, Ana and Leo were reunited after or not long before Cassandra died, so Ana became someone like a mother figure to Casey Jr, and considering Ana died in the future not long before the events of the movie, I feel like Casey would try to suppress his emotions towards her, and definitely would try to hide the details of what happened to Ana in the bad future timeline. But he would definitely be happy to see her, and if going with the movie, in the end he would finally let himself relax around her, knowing she'll be alright, alive and not kraangified, embracing her for the first time since he got into the past.

Ana during the events of the movie:

So, I think this would be strongly connected to the end of the season 2, because I had this idea that Ana, unlike April, didn't have much strength to fight, so Leo left her with Tod while him, April and others went to fight Shredder. This made Ana felt useless and helpless. During the movie, I thought that she would be helping people in the city. She was unable to fight the Kraang, but she tried to help people by leading them away from the war zone. I'm not sure what big moment to add here, but at the time I think that aside from bruises and small cuts she was okay, and, yes, was definitely helping the turtles to heal. Maybe even in the end of the movie it would be her and Leo's moment, when she would tell him about how useless she felt and how scared she was when Leo almost got trapped in the prison dimension, and he would reassure her that she did an amazing job by helping people in the city. And about him almost being gone, I think this would actually be their big moment when he would openly tell her he loves her. Like, before he didn't tell her this like that, but after almost, well, dying, he wouldn't want to waste a single moment with her.

Okay, now to Ana and her family:

At first I thought of Ana being just a normal, shy girl with a normal family, but, uuuh, I also thought it's kinda boring and lacks some depth, so, here's some of my ideas.

I never saw her having any siblings, so, she's the only child.

Her situation in her family is not as ideal as it could be. I didn't want to go with this cliche of one of her parents being dead, so they were both alive, but mostly they lived together more like neighbors rather than a family. I also thought of Ana feeling kinda like a burden to her family. She's calm, shy and quiet girl, doesn't have any special talents or big ambitions rather than taking photos (yeah, I've decided she liked to take pictures).

After watching Dungeon Meshi and seeing this moment with Falin eating alone, I kinda took it as an inspiration for Ana's backstory. But in Ana's case it's more close to something like with Hanekawa from Monogatari series.

If you know Hanekawa's story, you know the vibe/the idea. Ana and Kraang-chan are like Hanekawa and Black Hanekawa.

With Ana it's not as bad as it was for Hanekawa, there was no abuse or anything, but some ideas of her usually wearing a facade to appear to be someone who she isn't is present. With Ana she's more suppressing her emotions, even to the point she's ashamed of them. She feels lonely and detached from others but tries to make it look like she's fine with it, but there are still moments when her frustration is too much to handle, but even then she didn't ask for help, but more took it on herself.

I redrew a moment from The Boy and the Heron.

Oh boy, I hope I didn't miss anything.

[firelxdykatara]

I too ship Zutara and think they should have been canon. Although for me it's important to know how such a rewrite would go down. I tried to think, and I'm lost.

After Mai betrayed Azula for him, will he just go "sorry, not interested"? He isn't obligated to date her because of this, but her redemption hinges on Zuko and I don't see it being satisfying if he ends up rejecting her after this.

I thought the solution would be to rewrite her arc in boiling rock to make her have a moral realization, but then the problem with Maiko is practically solved. Their relationship wasn't salvaged by her redemption because last time they talked, Mai still didn't understand what's wrong with the Fire Nation and only changed because she loved Zuko. So how do you make it both satisfying & logical?

With Kataang the problem is the Chakras. The problem with the original (in my opinion) is that after he opened his chakra, letting go of his attachment to Katara, he's still attached (forcing a kiss on eip). Should TCoD get rewritten so that Azula shoots him before he opens it? Then why wouldn't he just open it later? Maybe the chakra would be locked so he feels as though he doesn't need to overcome his attachment just yet. In that situation, how would his chakra even unlock? The stone thing felt like nonsense, so how would I do it?

So yeah I have no idea how to approach this. How would you? (Thanks)

I've been rotating this ask in the back of my head like a rotisserie chicken for a few days--it's interesting because I don't generally stop to think like, how would I write them out of these relationships, I either ignore the relationships completely (which isn't hard, they were barely footnotes in the cartoon) or play a little bit with jealous exes or something. Thinking about like, In A Perfect World where Bryke wasn't in charge of ATLA post-canon (because if zutara had been canon, you can be sure they would've made us regret it) is interesting, and I do have thoughts on how I'd handle their relationships in a rewrite.

(this got long, so the rest is beneath the cut)

Assuming you mostly want to keep canon intact, I think maiko would be the easiest to work around, given how little relevance their relationship has in canon. The problem with maiko as an endgame ship is that it was not set up that way--if it had been, it would not have begun entirely off-screen and their whole relationship would not have been a study in misery and utter inability to connect emotionally. His relationship with Mai was there to showcase just how much he had changed and how little he fit into the life he had been so sure he wanted more than anything since his banishment. It worked very well to highlight Zuko's growth--how that contrasted to Mai's lack of it and why she could not understand him even at his most open and vulnerable--and did not work nearly so well when she was shoved back with him in the epilogue, after he'd quite literally forgotten her existence (he never mentions her again after Boiling Rock, not even to say a word of mourning, considering he'd have every reason to believe she was killed for defying his sister).

I don't think you can fix this by giving Mai some moral realization, because there simply is no room for it. As @araeph says in the essay I linked:

As a character, Mai is very useful to the story during Zuko’s return, because she represents everything that Zuko gains by sticking by his father. A girl who cares about him; the ability to indulge her; the authority he has over others at the palace; we see it all in his interactions with Mai. But this makes Mai a tether to a life he has long outgrown. Her function is not to advance Zuko’s character development, but to obstruct it, which also unfortunately means that Mai gaining a full understanding of Zuko’s trials would be disadvantageous to the story. If she knew everything about him and still wanted him to stay, it would give Zuko more cause than he should have to remain in the Fire Nation, but if she knew and encouraged him to leave and join the Avatar, it would rob Zuko of the triumph of making this decision on his own. In other words, there are good narrative reasons for keeping Mai in the dark; it just doesn’t make their relationship any stronger.

The seeds of a genuine redemption arc (one that includes some sort of moral realization and change to her moral framework) for Mai would have to have been planted far earlier than five episodes from the end of the series, but doing so would have of necessity detracted from Zuko's own character arc and the realizations that he makes despite his attachment to Mai (or more specifically to their relationship, which I feel like he was clinging to more out of a sense of abject loneliness he couldn't shake rather than genuine feelings and emotional connection).

So, in my mind, since we're tackling this with an eye towards getting rid of maiko with the fewest ripples to the overall story anyway, the easiest way to do this would be make one slight change to the end of the Boiling Rock two-parter--have Ty Lee (who had always been the least gung-ho of the trio about bowing to Azula's whims and had to be textually threatened into joining her in the first place) save Zuko's life, and then have Mai (who showed the most genuine affection for Ty Lee anyway) save Ty Lee. I love Zuko more than I fear you always fell flat for me as some epic declaration of love, anyway, since a) Zuko is not around to hear it, and b) unlike Ty Lee, she never showed much fear of Azula to begin with, so it wasn't a very high bar to clear. It was a cool line that was entirely unearned, and I don't think it would be missed, there would be some cute mailee crumbs this way, and a throwaway line of getting them released from the prison after the war ended could wrap up their presence in the story pretty nicely.

Now, kataang is a little trickier, if only because the last leg of Aang's character arc is almost completely derailed by his refusal to let go of his possessive attachment to Katara, to the point where he never naturally reopens his chakras, he has to have the Rock of Destiny hit him in just the right place, and the deus ex lionturtle there to give him a way out of having to make a hard moral choice. (I've maintained for years that if you work the final act of your main character's overall arc in such a way that it could have been solved by one good session with a chiropractor, something got fucked along the way.)

The thing about Aang's chakras is that, narratively, his whole thing with Guru Pathik and leaving his training early to save his friends was basically his version of Luke running away from his training with Yoda on Degobah because of his Force vision, only to find out that his friends were in the process of rescuing themselves and then losing his hand because he hadn't completed the most crucial part of his training. What's missing, therefore, from the last act of Aang's character arc, is the return.

See, in Star Wars, Luke pretty explicitly makes the wrong choice when he chooses to prioritize saving his friends over attaining enlightenment and fully mastering the Force. It was the only choice he could have made, but it was still the wrong one--because, like Aang, his friends did not actually need him to save them, he actually almost makes it harder for them to get away by requiring them to save him because, like Aang, he loses a battle in a very critical way. This was a lesson he desperately needed to learn, and it is clear he has learned it by the time he makes it back to Degobah and witnesses the end of Yoda's life, his own enlightenment having already been reached.

But Aang never goes back to the Guru.

And the text refuses to allow us to sit with the fact that he made the wrong choice in prioritizing his attachment to Katara over his ability to master the Avatar State. He is actually narratively vindicated about it, because the plot bends itself into a pretzel so that he doesn't have to spend any time during the last book trying to reopen his chakras and regain access to the Avatar State, handed both in the final battle with no excess effort on his part, and handed the girl into the bargain. (The girl who never even wanted him, so far as we can tell from all the lack of cues she gave him that she actually returned his feelings.)

And I think this could have been solved with a few scattered scenes. Let Katara actually have some agency in her own romantic relationship (or lack thereof), insofar as noticing Aang's advances and clueing the audience in to how she actually feels. Let Aang struggle with the fact that he can't reach the Avatar State, that his mastery of the elements is in limbo because he can't access his full power, rather than ignoring all of this until the end of the show. If we're trying to keep the shape of the last season roughly the same, let Katara confront Aang about the invasion kiss.

This would have been the perfect time to establish that Katara actually does feel some type of way about Aang prior to the epilogue, and it could have saved us from the exceedingly cringey EIP kiss that Aang never apologized for. How it comes across now, of course, is that Katara basically pretends it never even happened, to the point where she doesn't even know what Aang is talking about during EIP until he reminds her--the death knell for any shot their relationship had at looking requited, because I can tell you, as someone who's been a teenage girl, if someone I had conflicted but burgeoning romantic feelings for had kissed me, I would not have completely forgotten about it only a few weeks later--and we never get any indication as to what she actually felt about the kiss (which was not mutual, despite what Aang's dialogue in the EIP scene implies) except for the fact that she looked away and frowned afterwards. (A change mandated by Bryke, who wanted to leave her feelings completely ambiguous; the original storyboards had her smiling to herself.)

So, with an eye towards wrapping up Aang's puppy love crush and establishing Katara's distinct lack of romantic feelings for him, have her talk to him about the kiss. A good frame of reference for this would be Meng's conversation with Aang in "The Fortuneteller", where she finally realizes that he doesn't like her in the same way she likes him. Katara and Aang's conversation about the invasion kiss could be a callback to this, with Aang having some important realizations--that just because Katara doesn't share his feelings doesn't mean she loves him any less, and just because he can't have her the way he wanted doesn't mean he has to love her any less, that she doesn't belong to him but that's ok, because she's still his family and they'll always have each other's backs. Which could have functioned well in helping him take another step towards unblocking his chakras. Going back to the Guru directly may not have worked, since by this point in the story we're hurtling towards the final confrontation and Sozin's Comet, but let Aang reflect on what the Guru told him with new understanding granted him by his experiences throughout the first half of the season.

To keep the stakes high and up the suspense, obviously, he shouldn't have fully unlocked his chakras and the AS before the final fight, but the seeds could be planted--little moments like a talk with Katara about the invasion kiss, maybe a little more empathy and understanding from him about why Katara needs closure in TSR, etc--and then, during the final fight, rather than hand him all the answers on a silver platter, have him almost lose. He still can't go full Avatar, he's out of time, he still doesn't know exactly what to do about Ozai given his own pacifism and desire to preserve that part of his culture--he tries to fight but he's pretty quickly overpowered. Idk how I would've animated this, and maybe it wouldn't have looked as cool for the final fight, but the true climax of the finale was the Zuko and Azula agni kai anyway, so it hardly matters--I'm picturing him doing the rock-shield thing and going into a brief meditative state, where he finally achieves the enlightenment necessary to unlock the AS on his own, no rock of chiropracty necessary. And at this point, I'd give Ozai a Disney Death, since leaving him alive causes more problems than it solves and it's not necessary for Aang to kill him for him to die--they're fighting on a mountain ffs--but if you don't want to change that part then him figuring out energy bending as part of becoming a fully realized Avatar would at least feel more earned than the lionturtle just handing it to him. (And that could've been foreshadowed better by seeding the idea for it earlier in the season.)

After all of that, particularly if you up the emotions during the agni kai and have Zuko and Katara kiss there (or something less explicitly romantic but still tender, like a brief forehead touch), it'd feel pretty natural to have a just friends ending for Aang and Katara. Maybe a brief, slightly awkward but ultimately amiable conversation if Zuko and Katara had a ~thing at their final fight, and then the final shot of the series could be the gaang all together, maybe zutara holding hands or Katara resting her head on his shoulder or something, but since they already kissed there wouldn't feel like a need to end the whole show on romance, something which I've always felt missed the point of the series.

And then, y'know, after that, the world's your oyster! This is how I'd do it if I were trying to keep the bulk of the final season intact. Of course, breaking it all down to its component pieces and rebuilding from the ground up is also an option, but that'd probably be a longer post lol.

[daughterofevil158]

How good of a caretaker would Damon be to his sick soulmates? What are some things he would do for them?

I think he'd be pretty good at it (but gods save him if everyone is sick at once tho. he'd just straight up call the others for help at that point)

◊ Toshiko: Not upset at being sick for health reasons, but because it should've been one of the others ("Taking care of one's ill partner is a staple in a good romance, Mochi!" "Stop yelling or you'll scratch your throat."). There's a lot more juice boxes in the house. A fairly easy patient, even if she has to be bribed with sweets if the medicine has a gross flavor.

◊ Kai: The whiniest of the grown people tbh. Gets called baby(insulting) by Damon even as he's fluffing Kai's pillow for the fifth time. Begs for kisses and cuddles and is gently denied. Pouting the whole time, and is definitely gunning for that kiss as soon as he feels better.

◊ Desmond: The most obedient of the bunch so that he can get back outside as quickly as possible, though he at least insists on being able to do stretches while he's stuck in his room.

◊ Eva: She already sound a bit raspy normally, I'd be surprised if she could speak at all without going into a coughing fit. I see her as someone who always worked through her illnesses in the past, but not anymore girliepop! Doesn't require much maintenance, but Damon is still checking on her with a new cup of tea in hand every hour or so.

◊ Mark: Damon is lucky if he gets more than three word responses. Mark is stealing all the jackets partially because he gets cold more easily but mostly for the comfort factor. Also very sleepy, needs to be roused to take his medicine (and just about everything else).

◊ Ulysses: Having been in relatively poor health his whole life has taught him that spending a few days in bed is better than trying to work through it and needing even more time to recover. Doesn't stop him from note-taking, but as long as he lays off the coffee and gets some actual sleep for once Damon's alright with it. Imagining Damon reading some of Ulysses' books aloud if one of his symptoms is a bad migraine (as a glasses wearer, trying to read with one is like knives in your sockets)

◊ Wolfgang: Loses all the polite filtering ("Hey, how are you feeling? "Like shit." "Pfft-sorry, sorry!") Is the one trying to pretend he's fine, though the second it's Damon asking it's over for him. Has to be talked into accepting that, yes, it's okay to rely on people when you're not feeling well (and yes, Damon sees the irony in him being the one saying it). Mental image of Damon running his fingers through Wolfgang's hair while humming.

◊ Jett: Miserable coyote noises. Not letting anyone who isn't directly his soulmate in his room. Is surprisingly compliant solely due to wanting this over with as soon as possible.

◊ Diana: Another model patient. Very apologetic about the whole thing (girl, it ain't your fault). Definitely one who needs a constant supply of tissues. Does not have the energy to brush her hair, so Damon does it for her.

◊ Cassidy: A bit upset at not being able to stream or go out, but for the most part I think she's cool as long as she has a console+charger. Is also kinda pouty over the lack of hugs, but gets over it more quickly than Kai.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

hello this is the anon who requested the kamado siblings + giyuu oneshot and may i just say

jdjdjejejwjwkwksjdjdjsjshdhdhdhhfhrjwjwjdhdhdbd omg i love it so much and i love hoe you write them so much

if you wouldnt mind may i request: tanjiro calling giyuu 'giyuu-nii-san!' or 'onii-san' for the first time which gives giyuu all the fuzzy feelings. nezuko also picks up on it. this then evolves to calling him 'nii-chan' which giyuu's poor heart cant take

imagine giyuu and tanjiro turning to answer nezuko when she says 'nii-chan!' (maybe she thinks of another nickname for giyuu)

sorry the sibling brainrot is brainrotting

i love you soso much and i'm glad you liked the other one <3 btw i looked a little up and 'onii-san' is typically used by girl and 'nii-san' for boys (js a little headsup) takes place after Nezuko conquered the sun (bc how would she speak then) also there's no connection to this one to the last thing you req'ed :>

Truthfully, Tanjiro had been thinking about it for some time. It wouldn't really have come instinctively because he'd never called anybody it before. Nezuko would've been more likely to slip up. But Tanjiro's plan was to act as if he hadn't meant to say it and see how Giyuu felt about it. He didn't know how to breach the topic and he figured that an honest reaction from Giyuu was probably best, despite the Hashira's lack of ability to show emotions. If there was even the slightest flicker of distaste in those serious blue eyes, Tanjiro would simply apologize and hope Giyuu never brought it up again.

In the end, it did come out unintentionally. Perhaps because he had been mulling it over so much so that it became one of the first things to pop up in his mind when he saw Giyuu. But nevertheless, it simply... slipped out. The two had been talking in the Butterfly Estate as Tanjiro awaited Aoi's permission to go train. Nezuko was perched on the edge of the cot, resting her head on Tanjiro's shoulder and swinging her legs back and forth. Meaning to ask something, Tanjiro began to speak then quickly cut himself off when he realized what he'd said. "Ah! Giyuu-nii, I wa-..." He flushed, turning his head away and sinking down into the sheets, wishing they would envelop him.

There was a moment of silence, though Nezuko didn't seem to have noticed anything. Then Giyuu spoke, slowly, seeming mostly bemused. "What did you say?..."

Tanjiro bit his lip, peeking back up at him. Giyuu looked mostly confused, gazing at him curiously.

"I didn't mean to..."

"What was it you said?" Giyuu pressed, scooting closer on his chair.

"Eh... 'Giyuu-nii'..." Tanjiro mumbled. He wanted to look away, but equally wished to see Giyuu's reaction. To his surprise, it was a lot more expressive than the mild, maybe slight twitch of the lips that he had expected.

Giyuu, understanding now, had his eyes opened wide. "As- As in...?" He seemed very unsure of himself.

"...yes. I just- I see you like an older brother and I... It just slipped out," Tanjiro said quietly. Which was mostly true.

"Oh. Do I call you 'otōto' then?" Giyuu asked.

Tanjiro went to respond, then saw the amused smile that Giyuu was barely supressing and burrowed his face in the blankets. "Wahh, I didn't mean to, I swear!" he said, wallowing in his embarrassment.

"It's... okay," Giyuu assured him. He sounded sincere so Tanjiro glanced back up.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes... I, ah, see the... both of you... as siblings, too, I think," Giyuu agreed. He gave Tanjiro a tentative little smile, looking very shy and awkward—which made Tanjiro feel a bit better. At least they were mostly on the same page.

"You do?" Tanjiro sat up, almost knocking Nezuko over. He apologized quickly to her, patting her gently before turning back to the Hashira.

"I suppose you feel like... family, if you can say that," Giyuu murmured.

Tanjiro beamed.

"I'm glad, I was worried you would think I was weird for calling you that so suddenly."

"I don't mind." Giyuu looked on the verge of saying something, but not quite sure if he should. For a moment, he seemed to battle with himself, then gave in, blurting out: "You can still call me... that-"

Tanjiro stared at him momentarily, then a grin spread on his face. "Reaally? Thank you, Nii-san!" he said enthusiastically.

Nezuko, who wanted in on the fun, prodded Tanjiro's arm. "Wha?" she asked, stumbling over her words as she tried for form a coherent sentence. "Wha' happen...e?"

Tanjiro ruffled her hair affectionately. "Giyuu-san said we can call him 'nii-san' now."

Giyuu looked away, embarrassed as Nezuko sat up and crawled to the other side of the bed where Giyuu's chair was nearest.

"Onii-chan?" she asked tentatively, sitting in front of him and tilting her head.

Giyuu nodded. "...yes."

Nezuko smiled and, paired with Tanjiro's exuberence, it was practically too bright for Giyuu. He stuttered, trying to find something else to say. Then, promptly giving up, he excused himself. "I have to go now, I'll come by later, okay?" he mumbled.

The two nodded happily, waving their goodbyes to the Hashira as he left.

Little extra:

"I wan' go an' see Imosuke now!" Nezuko huffed, crossing her arms.

Tanjiro chuckled. "Inosuke? In a moment. He should be coming here."

Giyuu frowned. "I should go, then. He's very loud."

Tanjiro frowned but didn't protest. Nezuko, on the other hand, seemed to have other things in mind. She held up her arms—at the moment, she was perhaps the size of a 7 year old—and waved them about. "Onii-chan, pick me up! I don't wan' stay in the sun long," she whined.

Both Giyuu and Tanjiro turned to her, reaching forward. They both paused, realizing the other was doing the same. As they tried to figure out who should pick her up, Nezuko stomped her feet impatiently, wondering what was all the hold-up.

Another extra bc it's necessary:

During the training after Tanjiro had finally healed, the Hashira had met up again and Giyuu had been forced into coming. However he had brought Nezuko with him, who had fallen asleep in his arms. Tanjiro was resting after several hours of constant training and he didn't want to put the girl in his hands just yet. So instead, Giyuu was stuck with cradling Nezuko in his arms, hoping she didn't randomly increase her size. The other Hashira gave him amused looks but said nothing of it, too preoccupied on other matters.

They spoke for a while, with Giyuu mostly listening in. Half way through the meeting, Nezuko stirred, blinking up at Giyuu. She raised a hand, patting his chin, and he looked down.

"Good morning," he whispered gently, though it was nearing evening now.

She smiled, sitting up in his arms and growing slightly. "Onii-chan, where we?" she asked. Because she had just woken up, she didn't make any attempt to lower the volume of her voice and it was amplified in the small room, making every Hashira turn to their direction.

Giyuu's cheeks burned at the attention but he tried to ignore it, murmuring to Nezuko, "I'm at a Hashira meeting. Tanjiro's resting, but maybe you can go find Agatsuma or Hashibira?"

Nezuko nodded quickly, hopping out of his arms. She turned to the Hashira, waved briefly, and bounded out of the room. It was close to where Tanjiro and the others had been training and Nezuko had wandered about plenty here, so Giyuu wasn't worried. He was worried, however, about the Hashira who were currently supressing laughter at him.

"Onii-chan, huh?" Tengen grinned, propping his elbow on his knee and leaning on his hand (he was sitting cross-legged). "Have they adopted you into their family?"

Shinobu looked amused, though she had at least the curtesy—if it could be called that—to hide her smile.

"Would've expected you to be the one calling them 'onii-chan,'" Sanemi scoffed. "What with you being the most immature of them all."

"D...don't be mean!" Mitsuri scolded Sanemi, though she looked unsure if it was supposed to be an insult. "I think it's adorable! It's so cute that she calls you that, does Tanjiro, too?"

Giyuu nodded, tucking his chin to his chest as he avoided the Hashira's eyes. Mitsuri giggled, whispering something to Obanai who sat next to her. The rest of the meeting went by achingly slowly but when it finally ended, he left quickly, deciding he would visit Tanjro later in case the boy was headed to another of the Hashira's training. Hopefully, there wouldn't be a meeting any time soon.

this one's shorter, sorry 'bout that :>

[sturnioz]

haven’t been on here in a minute but so glad to be back to read your posts 😛 so i’ve decided to prove my unsolicited opinions and thoughts

there’s so many details in the frat wedding that i felt gave me so much to think on. i’m glad that nate felt bad and confessed in the end, same with everyone who knew. but it did have me thinking about how i’d feel in buns shoes with that, i’d be really hurt but bun is a better person than me. idk it just makes me feel a certain way about them knowing how chris is especially nate, matt, and nick who know more about why he’s like this. just kind of rubbed me the wrong way but they know they were wrong.

secondly, thinking about chris and what he said. knowing frat boys like chris in my life, people like him just genuinely don’t always think through the consequences of their actions. to chris, he’s so used to this environment and acting like this with other girls in the past (maybe not to the extent with bun but you catch my drift), but he fails to remember that bun is an outliner with it comes to his normal type of hookups, which is why she was bothered of course. this doesn’t excuse what chris did was wrong of course but i think when you think about the genuine huge differences between the two of them it makes sense.

the apology was really interesting to me because of course us as readers don’t know what’s going on in chris’s head. i do think he apologized because he felt bad for embarrassing bun especially when it really wasn’t his intention, he just doesn’t think (a problem within itself) before speaking. i also think this is part of the problem with nate and the other frat guys, they genuinely didn’t think about the consequences. i have somewhat of a feeling that if chris was in this situation with another girl, he wouldn’t have asked if they were bothered, wouldn’t have pushed to get the truth, and wouldn’t have apologized. which makes the situation with bun complicated. i don’t want to say chris cares for bun more than other girls but for lack of better words that’s how ill put it, maybe he just prioritizes her a bit more but it is for selfish reasons more than anything but if bun is okay with that and recognizes it, then perf.

it seems like in certain circumstances bun and chris understand what’s going on between them and no one can understand it but no one else needs to get it. they both are getting stuff out of their arrangement, they have a mutual understanding of where they stand with each other but i think this serious really shows how much the people around them don’t get it, but hey! they don’t have to! and that’s beautiful.

sorry this was so much, have a great day

-🐛

im honestly really really glad you thought hard abt this, cos this is what its meant to do !! the whole situation is 100% supposed to rub you the wrong way, especially with matt, nick and nate. yes they didn't have had ill intentions and they kept quiet cos they wanted to have a fun night, but in the end, they know exactly what chris is like.. especially when it comes to stuff like this.

and you're absolutely right with chris, how he doesn't think before he speaks. its very much cos of the environment that hes in, and admittedly, how everything had happened around him. there's a big reason why chris doesn't apologise, so i promise you when chris give that very half-assed apology during the final, it was genuine. he did feel bad a bit, but mostly he felt incredibly fucking awkward. it's a whooooole mind fuck, and i can't wait to get into that.

and you're also right abt them having an understanding on where they stand with each other !! the arrangement is beneficial to both of them in the sex department, and truthfully, a lot more for bun. she's made new friends cos of it, she's got to experience more things than she ever has in her life, and she's getting invited to do things with people that shes never done before.

dont apologise for stuff like this !! i love being able to know whats going on inside your head and listen/read what you're thinking abt it. its why im a writer :) i love the feedback