#not with a tone of 'this is how i think it should be and you're wrong if you think otherwise'

[th-citizen-matriarchy]

TEXT CORRECTION, TO MAKE IT WORK IN THE NEW ERA OF MATRIARCHY: How can I express my opinion to my (man) FEMALE in a polite manner without being insubmissive? I know now, at least for me, that what comes to mind when I take some time to meditate on what I need to do to become THE best house husband I can be, one thing I think I could constantly improve is my manner.

Specifically, expressing my opinion without appearing rude and insubmissive to my wife, or even ruining my appearance as a docile (lady) LITTLE MAN.

I grew up in a house where you had to be loud, rude, and abrasive to be heard.

It's hard to unlearn habits like that, especially when most of the world considers it an UNAcceptable personality trait. But when you're focused on being a good and holy househusband, submission is vital! So let's talk about when it's okay to speak up, when you should bite your tongue, and how to do it correctly.

As a woman and a traditional housewife, AS A LITTLE GUY AND A GOOD TRADITIONAL HOUSEHUSBAND, you need to realize that 98% of the time your (man) FEMALE is only doing what's best for you and you need to bite your tongue. I know I have a hard time doing this myself, so not only do I practice how to respond politely in situations where I would do something TOTALLY different, but I also practice hiding my feelings behind a sweet and docile smile, PUTTING MY HANDS BEHIND AND CATCHING MY FINGER UNTIL IT HURTS, but what if your (man) MANLY WIFE is doing something totally wrong? What if it's really horrible? (LIKE BURPING) How do I know if I should speak up or not? You should only speak up if…

IF SHE, He is going to hurt you, himself or others physically, emotionally, mentally or financially.

IF SHE, He is forcing you to break strong beliefs that you have. (LIKE NOT WEARING PANTS ANYMORE)

IF SHE, It is unwanted physical advances that you are not ready for or do not want at the moment. (LIKE LAYING ON TOP OF YOU OR PRESSING YOUR LIPS TOO HARD)

If none of the above applies to you, then you have nothing to worry about. You should smile and bow your head with a soft "Yes, honey" I LOVE YOU. MANLY WOMEN (men) were put on earth to be strong and kind leaders in the home.

LET THEM BE, LIKE THAT, It is their duty to lead and their responsibility to serve. If your STRONG FEMALE (man)'s decision applies to ANY of the three situations mentioned above, follow these guidelines for remaining submissive when questioning your authority, and if they persist (especially if they apply to 1 or 3), call an abuse hotline and get out of there. But if they don't apply, here are the guidelines for remaining submissive when expressing your ideas.

LISTEN TO HER, SHUT UP until she's done. SIT PROPERLY, YOU SHOULD BE polite and respectful, and listening to her will show that you are still submissive despite having a different opinion.

Don't yell!! DON'T RAISE YOUR VOICE! I can't stress this enough!!! Don't yell, don't interrupt him, don't talk over him, don't even talk as loud as him!! PUSH YOUR LIPS! KEEP YOUR HANDS TOGETHER ON YOUR LEGS AND CLOSE THEM, DON'T EXPRESS ANYTHING WITH YOUR LIPS, DON'T MAKE GRIMACE!

YOU AS A SUBMISSIVE MAN, Keep your face under control. DON'T BLAME HIM WITH BAD GESTURES, Make sure you don't roll your eyes or make irritated facial expressions or gestures, as that will automatically make everything you say disrespectful, even if you agree with him. SHE WILL IMMEDIATELY DISQUALIFY YOU, A KIND SMILE WILL MAKE YOU ACCEPTABLE TO HER. KEEP YOUR SHOULDERS BACK AND SMILE. EVEN IF SHE DOESN'T LIKE WHAT YOU HEAR.

WHEN SHE ALLOWS YOU TO TALK, Speak to her kindly and with a docile posture. WITHOUT RAISING YOUR VOICE, WITH A KIND AND CALM TONE, TRYING TO MAINTAIN THE TONE OF A FRAGILE CHILD, Do not cross your arms, OR YOUR LEGS, do not be abrupt or sharp with him, do not tilt your hips. None of that. KEEP YOUR HANDS TOGETHER AND CALM ON YOUR DRESS.

And number 5, THE MOST important of all…

HER WORD, WHATEVER SHE SAID, IS HER WORD, PERIOD! If she does not give in, agree with her and do it! It is not that bad and he is just trying to do what is best FOR YOU AND YOUR CHILDREN. Let the MANLY FEMALES be WOMEN and let THEM lead! They are the head of the family and you are there IN THE BACK to support HER! SUPPORT HER BY KEEPING QUIET! DOING SILENTLY WHAT YOU ARE TOLD!

I hope this helps you as much as it helped me! NOT TO BE MISTREATED AND IGNORED, Thank you for reading and I hope you are lucky enough to have a happy home and a clean kitchen!

How do I politely express my opinion to my man without being unsubmissive?

Now I know, at least for me, what comes to mind when I take time to meditate on what I need to do to become the best home maker that I can one thing I believe that I could constantly be improving on is my mannerisms. Specifically voicing my option without appearing rude and unsubmissive to my husband, or even ruining my docile lady like front. I was raised in a house hold where you had to be loud and rude and abrasive in order to even be heard. It’s hard to unlearn habits like that, especially when most of the world considers that to be an ok personality trait! But when focousing on being a good and holy housewife submission is vital!! So let’s talk about when it’s ok to express your opinion, when to hold your tongue and how to do it properly.

As a traditional woman and housewife you should realize that 98% of the time your man is just doing what is best for you and you should hold your tongue. I know I have a hard time doing this so I practice not only how to respond politely in situations where I would do something TOTALLY different but I practice hiding my feelings behind a sweet and docile smile too, but what if your man is doing something totally wrong? What if it is truly horrid? How do I tell if I should speak up or not? You should only speak up if…..

1. It is going to harm you, himself or others physically, emotionally, mentally, or financially.

2. If it’s forcing you to break steadfast beliefs that you have.

3. If it is physically unwanted advancements that your not ready for or do not want at the time.

If it does not apply to any of the above then you have nothing to worry about. You should smile and bow your head with a soft “Yes dear.” Men were put on earth to be the strong leaders kind leaders of the house hold, LET THEM BE THAT!! It is his duty to lead and your responsibility to serve! If your mans decision applies to ANY of the three situations listed above follow these guidelines to remain submissive in questioning his authority and if they persist (especially if they apply to 1 or 3) call an abuse hotline and get out of there. But if they don’t apply here are the guidelines to remain submissive when voicing your ideas.

1. Listen to him until he is done. It is polite and respectful and listening to him will show that your still subservient despite having a different opinion.

2. Don’t yell!!!! I can’t stress this enough!!! Don’t yell don’t interrupt him don’t talk over him don’t even talk as loud as he was!!!!

3. Keep your face in check. Be sure your not doing any eye rolling or making any irritated gestures or facial expressions, that will automatically make whatever you say disrespectful even if your agreeing with him.

4. Speak to him kindly with docile posture. Don’t cross your arms do not be snippy and short with him don’t cock your hip out. None of that.

And number 5 THE MOST important one of all..

5. HIS WORD IS FINAL!!! If he is not budging then agree with him and do it!! It’s not that bad and he is just trying to do what is best! Let men be men and let them lead! They are the head of the household you are there to support him!! SUPPORT HIM!!!!

I hope that helps you guys out as much as it helps me out! Thank you for reading and I hope you are blessed with a happy house and clean kitchen!

[juniperdugong]

How silly

Pairing: Salaryman!Nanami x reader Genre: Romance, Fluff, Angst (?) CW: Heavily Suggestive but no real smut !!!MINORS DNI!!! WC: 4,269

A/N: Note, a Nomikai is like an after-work drinking party. Also...I'm back, lemme know if this is absolute shi- or not.

Despite his austere demeanor, Nanami Kento's house was rather cozy. There was enough space for himself and then some - when he's rather cold and calculative on the battlefield or behind a desk, his house remains warm and bright, inviting even.

Although, right now - to you, it was anything but.

You were leaning against the living room wall, your heart stirring with every sound Kento made in the kitchen. There were perfectly good and comfy seats to be taken on the couch but your nerves willed you to stand. You fiddled with your fingers and scanned the room - It wouldn't have been too long ago that you might've felt comfortable in this space, maybe even felt at home. But now it just served as a bitter reminder, one that Kento just had to bring up again.

"Take a seat, it's not like you to not make yourself at home." Nanami came in teasing you, all smiles as he brought in two mugs of tea - just the way you liked it, just the way that he remembered you liked it.

"I feel fine on the wall, Nanami." Your tone conveyed your nerves in a way that Nanami definitely disliked judging by the way you see his eye twitch slightly. You would be the first to talk casually but right now being formal was the one thing keeping that lump in your throat from forming.

"I thought we'd gotten past the formalities, y/n…" Disappointment rides over his face, he should be expecting this after how he acted in the office but it only makes his mood more sour. Sensing your apprehension he lightens up, "Right, sorry-", adjusting himself on the couch, he picks up one of the mugs and starts sipping, "Saw you've got a new assistant." He doesn't elaborate or even meet your eyes as he changes the subject.

"Nana-" He throws you a stare that makes you clear your throat, "Kento… what does me having a new assistant have to do with anyth-"

"Can I not have a good and well-mannered conversation with my co-worker?" He cuts you off, knowing what you're prodding him for but not giving in just yet.

"Not if that co-worker is me and anyways, I think officially speaking I'm your boss. Even more inappropriate." You nip at your fingernails before pulling your skirt down, "But that isn't even why we're really here."

He sets down his mug and gets up, your breath hitches at his movements and his gaze darkens at your trepidation - he approaches you slowly, "Let's not be like this, y/n.", it sounds like he's fed up with your attitude. You couldn't understand why he would be the one fed up in this situation but suddenly you can't control your breathing, chest rising up and down more and more rapidly as he stalks forward, the way the lighting hits him makes his shadow grow from your perspective- You feel like an animal being hunted and you're not sure if you like it. His eyes narrow as his imposing frame towers - caging you in.

"Kento, stop." You're stern as the pit in your stomach grows. And he pauses, shaking his head and chuckling before backing away and composing himself.

"I'm sorry- Sit. Please. I have a feeling we might take a while…" Acting as though he didn't just try to intimidate you he sits back down. Turning on the TV he drags out this moment of tension until you feel coerced to sit or else you'd get nowhere and you'd have come here for nothing.

---

Of course, it wasn't always like this. There was a point in time when his stalking was desired, lusted after, and in turn, he was fond of your seductive fawning & controlling side. Yours and Nanami's relationship was almost like a TV-perfect office romance/forbidden love trope. Both competing to get promotions, bickering in meetings to gain advantage & prestige, nothing more than idle talk about client meetings during work hours, and both equally as cold & uncaring in the eyes of everyone in the office.

After hours…now that was a different story altogether. What started as coincidentally meeting at the convenience store - both of you hammered after a night out to relieve stress - turned into much more. What neither of you would admit to calling an office crush twisted itself into love motel stops & Nomikai's that became routine for you two. Always claiming that "just one more night" would quell your desire for each other. It was almost toxic the way you wanted one another - how the frustration of the office during the day could be taken out on each other during the night.

But that relationship changed once you got promoted. You both had been up for the position for some time - having several meetings & being observed constantly - near continuous stress. Being so fiercely competitive you went at each other's throats, desperate to prove your worth to the company. Your nights out became back-to-back sessions of rough love-making that would end with tired eyes remembering the hostile environment you've both cultivated at the office that you would now have to return to in the morning.

When it was announced that you had gotten the position things began to shift. Of course, there was the relief of securing something earned through hard work & loyalty but looking Nanami in the eye became harder, as if through this your loyalty to him was in question. Over the next month your nomikai's together were less frequent, you were moved to the office one floor up so talking was rare now too - it all fizzled right at the climax. "How boring." Nanami thought.

Months passed and eventually, you lost all contact except for the occasional meeting or report. In a surprising turn of events, you got promoted again when the department head got fired as the new year came. This effectively made you Nanami's boss and once more your paths crossed with increased frequency.

Everything was really good. No longer colleagues and rivals, your relationship got better. You still felt the occasional guilt of climbing the corporate ladder faster than him, but it wasn't anything either of you could or would change at this point. You were able to make light conversation, the spark of the corrupted crush you had so long ago reigniting, but this time, more purely—more right.

You'd blush as you came into your office and saw a note with a coffee or breakfast sandwich next to it. Inside poetic waxing of 1-3 sentences often harping on "having a good day" & "gaining energy" from these lovely efforts. And at the end always signed "Ken."

Even the smallest efforts made your heart swell, as would anyone's given the circumstances and the man. Without needing physical intimacy there was a subtle tension, never negative, instead an electricity in the air that made the office feel more alive… Well, at least that's what you two would experience. Maybe this time you get off on the right foot and build up something real - although still heavily taboo between boss & employee. At least it would be a relationship bound by more than tenuous midnight moans & morning walks of shame.

---

At your height within the company, it would be stupid to take on menial tasks like running to the printer, confirming meeting times, and scheduling on-site appointments. Not too soon after your promotion, a peer advised you to get a full-time secretary or personal assistant. You had more than enough salary to pay someone, so why not? Less on your plate meant more time spent thinking about your personal life, something you couldn't afford to do before.

It didn't take long for young university hopefuls to come crawling out of the woodwork once you posted the job offer. Colleagues began being overly nice during work hours in hopes of buttering you up enough to mention a name of an underclassmen or relative. During this period, noticing the buzz around you Nanami came around less frequently in fear of being a bother but his presence made itself known in the refilled snack drawer by your desk and the organized documents that you had complained to him about over lunch. Eventually, you settled on a very nice young man who had good enough experience to not be a hassle to train but not too experienced to where your seniority felt pointless.

Sure enough, it made things much easier over the next week. Meetings went by more smoothly and you could contain work more strictly to office hours.

In your newfound free time, you often drifted to thinking about Kento and what your relationship was. You started to consider the thought of "liking" someone, of liking Nanami Kento seriously. How nice it would feel to go to dinner with him after work with no expectations of the night, of stealing kisses in the break room, of waking up next to someone and this time not rushing to gather your clothes from off the floor.

So, after a few months of back & forth and more time than ever to attempt something like this, you decided to test your waters by setting up coincidental bump-ins with him but the results were odd. You were friendly with each other sure but in your gut you could feel him pulling away. Every interaction becoming shorter and less filled with niceties & casual talk leaving you confused. You were so sure that this was working, that weeks ago this would've led to a real connection; Maybe you weren't on the same exact page but close enough… you had thought that at least.

Were the signals too mixed? Did he want to return to the casual sex from before? Was that what he was after all along? Was he not on the same page and saw this simply as friendliness between higher-up and lower employee?

But then what did it mean when he'd brought you coffee in the mornings? Or when he'd stop by your office during lunch to ask what you were eating? Or the shy smiles you'd steal from each other when you were sure no one was looking? What does all that mean if not "I like you"?

You couldn't stand it. Waiting for the coy smile of the businessman sitting across the room during a meeting became almost torturous. You're not sure but it feels like a significant change had occurred without you knowing. Like over the past week a frost had entered and frozen over an innocent springtime.

The next 2 weeks were spent analyzing this thing between you and in your analysis you confirmed one thing. That this was not a case of growing apart but rather an avoidance caused by an unknown subject- Unknown to you that is. A confusing loop of getting just close enough to observe the glimmer of want in his eyes when you were around but never close enough to actually talk about it. And that's when you knew that you had to do something or the spark would fizzle just as quickly as it did before.

---

"Nanami, can I talk to you in meeting room 3?" His eyebrow quirked at your sudden question.

"Oh sure, was something wrong with yesterday's reports? Or did the client from Y company say something?" As per usual he kept on the topic of business - He has no precedent to think this was anything but, after all.

"No, I actually just wanted to touch base about something else." His face was inscrutable as your words were taken in.

"I'll be there in 15. Just let me finish up these last couple of emails." Even his tone was monotonous, with no hint of deeper thought or meaning. For all you know, he could be cursing you out in his head.

15 minutes has never felt this long before. Circling the room you went over the conversation you've meticulously planned - All the responses he could make and all the actions he could take. You're not sure if in doing this you only made yourself more nervous or if it at all quelled your worry but you couldn't stop. Not until you heard those heavy footsteps and the door click.

"Nanam-"

"Y/n-" You almost giggled as your voices overlapped but seeing the forlorn look on Kento's face made that moment of joy subside.

"Sorry, you called me here for a reason. Please…" He gestured towards you to continue.

"Ah- I umm I just wanted to talk to you because recently it seems like you've been…avoiding me. I mean it's not like I expe-"

"Stop." He cuts you off abruptly. "Not during work hours, please."

"Then when? I can never find a moment with you alone these days. It's only in an official capacity like this can I even see you right now."

"Y/n-" He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples before continuing, "Look - I'm sorry. I have been avoiding you. But it's for a good reason."

"Good reason? What reason?" You don't mean to sound as mad as you do but you couldn't help it - You were hurt. What reason could he possibly have for distancing himself like this? The look on your face must've conveyed your emotions perfectly because he immediately softens raising a hand to your cheek to comfort you.

"Mrs. L/n are you in- I am so sorry." Your assistant walks just before Kento can reach you. "Mr. Lee is ready to see you in your office. Please excuse me." He leaves just as quickly as he arrives.

You turn your attention back to Kento as you see his gaze linger on the door as it swings closed. Whatever softness he was going to reach you with has hardened, his eyes narrowed with a look of displeasure. "Ken-"

"It looks like you have to go, Mrs. L/n." He straightens up and addresses you formally. You're about to speak up as he leans in close to your ear, "My house tomorrow after work if you have further business to discuss regarding this manner."

Fixing himself he doesn't even spare you a glance. He makes his annoyance far too obvious with the low grumble that echoes throughout the room. Completely frozen from the shock of his whispered proposal you couldn't comment on his attitude, not even as his boss.

You shudder at the thought of being alone with him again after those words. What consequences have you brought upon yourself this time? Going to his house either sounds like the worst hell or the most gracious heaven right now and your mind can't settle on which one sounds more probable. There was only one way to find out.

---

Well now you were certainly in his home but the pressure in the room was enough to make an elephant sweat. Coerced to sit you breathe out heavily, adjusting yourself to as comfortably as you could in your rigidness. Kento reaches for the TV remote and turns the volume down before turning to face you nonchalantly.

"This silence is scaring me a bit, Kento." You break the silence, your words have a joking tone but he takes it seriously even as you pose a fake smile.

"I'm scaring you? I'm…" He swallows his words, straightens out, and takes a breath, "I'm sorry about that y/n. What was it that you wanted to discuss?" It's almost sickening the way he puts on the formality of business with you after nearly pouncing.

"What? No, you're not- Wait. Can we just stop this?" You rush to clear up whatever spiraling thought he had from your few words before focusing your gaze down, embarrassed of bringing up the subject.

"Stop what?" And it sounds like he's genuinely asking. Raising your head back up to meet his eyes you see confusion but also want to resolve whatever this is. Some amount of confidence is restored as you realize that it isn't just you who wants to fix things.

"Well, like I said back in the meeting room, you've been avoiding me Kento. And don't try to deny it."

He pauses trying to collect his words, "I have. But like I said for good reas-"

"Then just tell me the reason Kento." You raise your voice out of frustration.

Nanami retreats, readjusting to calm his nerves. You've never seen him so timid except for when he has to ask if his favorite treats are in stock at the bakery. He can't bring himself to look at you anymore. Whatever confidence he had was blown away by your exclamation. He picks up his mug, takes a sip of his tea, and fiddles with the handle - head downturned.

A murmur comes from him, "What is this?"

"What?" You can barely grasp the words.

"This." And he gestures between the two of you. "What is it? Y/n."

"I'm not understanding, Ken." And you notice the nickname catches his attention as his head whips to look at you - only then do you realize that you haven't addressed him so casually since before your promotions. Not even when you were flirting through office exchanges. For a second you wonder when that hostile relationship became more casual & comfortable than what you had grown accustomed to now.

Nanami bites his bottom lip, "Are we something? Anything other than coworkers? Tell me upfront, please because I don't think I can handle any more of these blurry lines. It's hurting my heart too much." It's a shock to you to see him this way but even more of a shock to himself as he's sure he's never even been this shaken by a curse standing right in front of him but now you've gone and turned things upside down.

You're speechless. Isn't that what you meant to ask him? He was the one putting distance between you. He was the one avoiding you. And now he was asking you this as if you're the one to blame for his actions. For someone so incredibly smart man, oh man was he dumb when it came to emotions. For the first time above the sheets, you're seeing Nanami Kento crumble into your hands. The intimidation tactics from before you now realize were just a front for him to hide all these feelings.

"Do you want to be something other than "coworkers"? Nanami." You scoot closer to him.

"I don't know what to think right now." His eyes are glossy but not yet tear-filled however with the shaky tone you have a feeling that the flood was incoming.

"Just tell me everything that crosses your mind. Anything is better than nothing right now." You're begging him at this point to open up to you. Staying in this relationship purgatory hell for any longer would drive you up a wall.

"Maybe…I don't know." He sighs, " I just- I don't think I'm in my right mind when it comes to you." Placing the mug back down he puts his hands to his face trying to gain clarity.

"What do you mean? Ken." You reach out to him, placing a hand on his knee.

He turns his head to face you again, another heavy sigh escaping him before placing his head back in his hands speaking slightly muffled. "You've made me insane, y/n." He chuckles and you smile, it feels so good to hear him laugh genuinely for just a moment even in his presumed "insanity". "Every time I see you I just want to- I want to hold you. And every time you're near my heart feels at peace but never at ease. I don't know what to make of you."

"I'm afraid I'm still not understanding?" You can sense the inner turmoil he's going through but his word vomit, although pretty, isn't helping you piece it all together clear enough to respond; You're not sure what's holding him back but you know you want to help him through it. Standing up you place yourself in front of him, kneeling slightly to pry his hands away from his face.

He looks up at you as you stand tall before him. Tears now brimming. You never thought a day would come when you would see Nanami of all people on the brink of collapse, as sad as it was it was also extremely cute. But, Was whatever he had to admit something to get this emotional about? Or was it just the fact that it involved you? Even he couldn't be sure of the answer.

"I'm pathetic." He lets his hands flop onto his lap as his shoulders slump and his head hits your stomach in defeat.

You chuckle at the admission brushing the back of his head and letting your hand play with the strands at the nape of his neck. "How are you pathetic? Have I made you feel like that? Is that why…you won't talk to me anymore?"

"What?! No!" He exclaims before calming down once more, this time he places his chin on your navel to look up at you, "I'm pathetic because I get jealous over - what is probably - nothing…" He digs himself back into the softness of your belly, bringing his arms to wrap around your waist - securing you where he can breathe you in.

"Can you let me in on what this "nothing" is? Because I've been nothing but confused these past few weeks, Kento."

Breathing you in, he says something completely muffled that tickles you just enough to lightly chuckle.

"Hmm?" You brush at his gel-hardened hair to coerce him to face you and he follows your movements as if entranced by your touch. His eyes close as he brings his hand to meet yours now leading you to cup his face letting his thumb brush over the skin on your hand. How good it feels to smell you he thinks.

Oh how men fall, more specifically how Nanami Kento falls to your visage as slivers of city lights intertwine with the warm interior and you're illuminated like no goddess he could even imagine. If he could stretch this moment in time forever he would - but he cannot and thus he resigns to just taking you in as your face continues to screw up in confusion.

"Your assistant." and he lets his head hang once more, too embarrassed of his truth to let you meet his eyes.

"My assistant?" You're genuinely confused by the two words for a quick second before it clicks, "Oh…my assistant…He's why you don't want to take me out to lunch anymore?"

"I always want to take you out to lunch, y/n. But how can I- sigh When he's with you 24/7 & gets to be with you all day, how can I not feel so…angry."

"Ken…" You almost have no words, of course, emotions are fickle and he can't control the way he feels but it is kind've silly; While you've been worrying your butt off over him, he's been hiding his possessiveness when you never asked him to. Part of you (a really big part) finds it cute, the other part acknowledges just how stupid that sounds. All this running around each other for nothing - weight lifted but reassurance surely still needed.

"I told you. Nothing." Once again he digs himself so deep into your stomach you're sure he's bound to create some sort of mark.

"No no, not nothing. Well-"

"See!" And you both giggle at the immediate retort.

The entire time you're above him you can't help but think about how odd this position is physically and metaphorically. You're "above" him and he doesn't mind, not the way that you thought he would anyway. And the truth is that Kento would much prefer you above him (in more ways than one) and whatever doubt you had that he would despise you - that he should despise you - after everything that you've taken from him vanishes; you mean so much more to him than official positions and rankings. He loves you, the way his eyes have gained back their sparkle just by being in your presence proves it.

"Should I get rid of him?" You're half joking but in your truest heart of hearts if he asked you would try your best to accommodate his worries.

"Don't do that to the kid…"

"So you're aware that he is just a kid-"

"As I've told you multiple times now, I know it was baseless emotions. Not that I could help it but I know- I should've talked to you sooner."

"Yes. Much sooner." You return to your place beside him on the couch clutching his hand in yours and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Forgive me?"

"Never." He looks at you a bit confused. "Spend every day - starting now - making it up to me Nanami Kento."

A grin so big you couldn't ever imagine it on his face unless it was happening right in front of you - as it was right now - appears. He straightens himself, adjusting pants and all - as if he wasn't already extremely attractive - and faces you. "You've got a deal Mrs. L/n." He holds out a hand and with a firm shake tackles you into the sofa. Suddenly, once more you feel at home in his home. You feel just right where you need to be with Mr. Nanami Kento… or just Ken.

A/N: Holy hell...I'm back babies. Srsly though what did you think of this fic?? Idk how to feel. It's like between a masterpiece and a piece of garbage idk....

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[keyaho]

.chapter warnings: This entire part is CNC. If you are not comfortable with that as a kink please do NOT engage with the material. Another large kink warning for this chapter is that Terry is a Sexual Sadist his pleasure isn't coming from the act of p in v sex. This part is about his pleasure specifically and his kinks. Nami benefits yes, I guess you could say, but Terry stands ten toes on "you're here for my pleasure".

🟡 🟢 🔴 ⚫

.word count: 8k

Kinks explored: CNC, Anal, Shibari, Spanking, Choking, Primal Play, Sexual Sadism, Sensory Deprivation, Dacryphilia. Somnophilia. Terry is very chatty.

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.summary.: It wasn't anything Nami did to make Terry so curt with her and nothing she did could change his mood or his plans.  

Everything was pissing Terry off. He watched Nami busy herself around his kitchen. Everything. Her yellow dress wasn't right. He didn't like the straps and how they crossed in the back. He wanted her naked and he knew if he told her she would strip down for him. Yet, he didn't want that. Curling his hands into a fist he almost missed Nami walking over with a smile with their early dinner. He'd asked for the same dish she cooked two weeks ago he praised, though now he stared at the bowl of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables, pissed off. 

"Is everything okay?" 

Nami had notice his mood was off the moment he called her over. He did want to spend time with her. That wasn't the issue. Terry's eyes flickered up to Nami and then back to his plate. 

"I'm not hungry anymore." 

"Oh,' she says, slightly disappointed. “Okay, I’ll put this alway then.” 

He said nothing and she took the plate back to the stove. She found containers and stored his food in the fridge before cleaning his plate. Terry could see the unease in her tense body. 

"I think Daddy has been too nice to you." He paused. "And Sir, well, he may need some correction as well." 

The words fell on Nami like ice cold water. She didn't know what to say but she didn't like the tone of voice he was using. It was different. Off kilter and she immediately knew who wasn't here with her. Daddy had been shelved and Sir took a vacation. 

"You know what I do adore about you Nami is your auditory perception skills." He praised, but it was more of a back handed compliment from these new lips. "It keeps you one step ahead of me and I don't like that." 

"I'm not trying to be ahead of you." What she should call him still was unspoken so the air around them tingled in silence for a few seconds. 

"I'm sure you aren't." 

She could hear the chair scrape the floor as he stood up. She resumed packing away the rest of the meal she had thought they would enjoy together. She felt like he was still standing there so she continued. Only pausing when she was finished, eyes focused on his lips instead of his eyes. 

His posture was surprisingly relaxed. However, his arms were folded across his chest. His expression was unamused, lips pursed, and his eyes downcast. She realized he was sucking his teeth with a tight jaw, the gesture so unlike him. 

"But you are and that needs to be rectified. Don't you think?" He asked. 

Her 'yes' would be admitting to his statement and they both knew that. Any answer would admit it. She knew not to say 'no' because why would she lie? Nami's shoulders slumped forward slightly and she looked down at the floor. She saw his feet approach. A clean man she knew his feet were neat like his fingers. They stopped in front of her and his scent filled her nose. Smoke. Terry smelled like heavy smoke and it confused her. He always smelled clean or neutral. This scent was artificial and heavy. Intentional. Distorting. Distracting. 

"I-'

She loved his hands. She had to remember that, but when he grabbed her jaw and squeeze, Nami whimpered in pain. He tilted her head up so they made eye contact. His fingers dug into her skin so tightly she could feel him pressing against the bones in her jaw. 

"You need to look at me when you speak. That's basic respect." 

He let her go and when she began to lower her head he pushed it back up, smacking the bottom of her chin roughly. Her teeth smacked together and her eyes began to water. 

"Don't cry. I haven't done anything worth that yet." 

Terry leaned down until they were eye level. Nami, overwhelmed, lifted her hands as if was going to push him away. Ever perceptive, her Dom grabbed her by the wrists and yanked the behind her back. Holding them there in annoyance. 

"You've never come that closing to knowingly putting your hands on me. Don't make that mistake. Not tonight." He looked into her brown eyes with a glint in his own. Mischief spread through him and his lip curled upwards on one side. "You have a few minutes to let me know what you're feeling right now. Afterwards, I'm doing a refresher." 

Nami held still in his grip, her shoulders beginning to ache as he pushed upwards on her arms. They were folded across her back, but the added push kept them rigid. She winced when she tried to adjust and felt his grip tighten. 

"What's your name?" She whispered. 

Terry hummed. "Are you smart, Nami?" He replied. "Because I asked you to tell me how you're feeling and here you are asking me a question." 

Nami looked away from him. She didn't know how to navigate this situation. Being this close to him she noticed the scent of smoke grew thicker. Focusing on that she did begin to feel a little fear. 

"You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either." He let out a disappointed sigh. "I'm being mean,' he says, lowering his gaze to her, "let's do this in a way you are familiar with, shall we?" 

Terry turned around and moved to the dining table. He turned around one of the chairs and plopped down into it, a smile on his thick lips. 

"Come." 

Nami took a step and froze when he snapped his fingers. "Nah, on your knees." 

"What?" She spoke, the word falling off her lips, accidently. 

"Excuse me?" 

Nami's eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm sor-'

"Shut up and do what I said. That's the apology.." 

He could see her hesitation and if he wasn't pushing her boundaries what was the point? She was a little lamb, standing in his kitchen, and he was the wolf. He was ready to hunt. 

"I don't want to come get you, Nami." Terry scratched at his jaw. "You know the only way out of this." 

"I don't want out." She whispered. 

Terry clasped his hand together and leaned back in the seat. His legs spread and he made himself look inviting, though the expression on his face was hard. Nami sucked in a deep breath and as she lowered to her knees she let it out. She couldn't see him over the island that separated them, so she used the few seconds to collect herself. The floor was cold under her hands, as she moved one leg and hand at a time. She had her head back, knowing if she came around the corner with her head down, he'd say something. Or in his mood, do something. 

As she crawled around the island, she saw Terry glanced down at her. He didn't move, but his eyes followed her as she crawled towards to him. When she was closer enough, Terry wrapped a hand around her curls, twisting them into a makeshift pony tail he used to pull her up. 

"You're going to hate me by the end of the night,' he speaks slowly, his hips rising from the chair while he pushes down his sweats. "Too bad I won't give a damn." 

His dick springs free, semi-erect as he shimmies the sweats around his ankles. Nami's mouth opens instinctively, and he obliges. Guiding her head closer, he pushed the tip past her tongue, finding home int he back of her throat. Nami blinked through the gagging sensation, her hands bracing to the floor as his grip slackened. Terry slid closer to the edge of the chair, letting her stay on her hands nad knees with his dick pushed down her throat.

"We're about to go through your rules for today." 

Nami nodded, slurping sounds filled his ear as she willed herself to remain still. Terry pushed her head further down his shaft, stopping when her nose brushed his lower abdomen. He hummed and reached between them to pinch her nose. Nami's eyes shot up to him and he met her gaze, a wink followed before he released her. He watched her struggle to breath around his dick, choking and blubbering messily as she regained control of her ragged breaths. 

"The first,' he says, patting the top of her head, "you do not speak. You do not make a sound. I could be fucking you into oblivious and I better not hear it." He flicked her nose, a threat to pinch it again, and smiled when she inclined her head away from his touch. "How can you hear me if you're making all that noise?" 

Nami wanted to give a sound of agreement, but she waited. 

"Oh, see, that's selective listening." He ran his thumb around her lips, collecting some of the spit that had seeped out. "I want you active." 

Terry removed her from his dick, thick spit and drool flooded from her mouth and he used his hand to wipe it all over her face. 

"Eyes on me,' he snaps, tilting her chin up. "Two, if you want to stop then you need to use the safe word. Do you remember it?" 

Nami nodded. 

"Do you want to use it now?" 

Nami shook her head. 

"I'm not going to be gentle. I don't even care if you cum tonight." 

His hand is slowly stroking his dick, the tip pressed to her lips as he talks. Pre-cum leaks over her lips but she keeps them closed. 

"Three, follow my instructions." 

Nami watches him stand up, his dick flush in her face. He stepped around her and yanked the dress off, tossing it somewhere in the living room.  

"Crawl to the garage." 

Nami bit back the urge to whine. Her throat was beginning to ache and so was her pussy. As she crawled, Terry followed her. When she was a few paces from the garage door he landed a smack to her left ass cheek. It popped loudly and Nami's knee gave out from the strike. A heavy hand wrapped around her ankle and dragged her back through the kitchen and to the dining table. 

She couldn't hold back and the sudden strike to her skin made her scream. His hand hurt. The pressure he applied was tenfold. Terry rolled his eyes, and let out a breath through his nose. 

"Go!" 

He watched her crawl again, this time letting her hand wrap around the handle, before he hit her ass upwards, watching the recoil, the painful recoil. Nami pushed open the door, almost falling down the first stair into the basement. 

Terry snatched her by the back of the head and brought her too her feet. "Ten." 

He flips on the light and pushed Nami ahead of him. His hold on her hair tightening as she walks down the stairs. The room was cold. Along the walls were riding crops, shelves of toys, a basket of lube, and the St. Andrews cross bolted to the wall piqued her interest. There was a bed, but she was pushed to the floor in front of it. Her familiar yellow cuffs were already hooked to the bed. Terry sat in a chair he pulled from a side wall. Fluidly, he tosses Nami over his lap. He raises his hand and swings down, smacking her right ass cheek twice. 

"Acknowledge by holding up the right number of fingers." 

Her arm flew out as she flashed him two fingers. One of them she wanted to flash by itself. 

"You only had three rules. Easy,' he hissed, "and you broke one so quickly." 

Nami's played back the interaction a few moments ago. She crawled. Her body sagged into his legs.

Crawl to the garage. That was it. She opened the fucking door. 

Terry finished her punishment quickly. She was disoriented each time he asked for the count, but when he go to ten, she threw her hands up as high as they would go. Her ass wasn't the only thing burning. Terry had landed hits to the backs of her thighs as well. He pushed her off his lap and stood as she dropped to the floor. 

45. The submissive wants to feel used. 

She knew he was going to go through that list of kinks, but she didn't know if she wanted Terry to be the one to do them. She didn't want out, but her body was screaming bitch run.

"Are you ready to play?" 

She could hear chains and rattling. From the floor, she pushed to sit on her knees, and watched him. Colorful thick ropes dangled from his hands as he approached her naked form. Terry lowered on his haunches in front of her and his pursed lips looked inviting, but she knew better than to lean forward and seek him out. 

"I hope I won't spend the rest of the night putting my hands on you." 

He tipped her chin up with a finger. Again, Nami shook her head, still reeling from the previous spanking. 

"We're going to take this at a reasonable pace." He showed her the yellow ropes. "Hands." 

Nami clasped her hands together and held them out. The yellow rope was wrapped around them snugly. In his other hand was the end of a pully system that he connected the rope to. He stood and hooked the pulley back into the wall. There was a tug on the ropes as he tested he tension. Beside him was a table where he pulled a black eye mask from the drawer. It slammed shut and his silence began to unnerve her. She needed to hear his voice. It was fitted over her eyes. 

Darkness flooded her eyes. Unable to see him she didn't know where he was in the room. His scent was still smoky and heavy, this time laced with an urgency she could practically feel. She tried to listen, hear where he was, but was betrayed by the brown noise he started to play over speakers. The static sound didn't soothe her anticipation, it added to the cacophony of anxiety she felt. 

The pulley suddenly began to tug and Nami followed her arms as they were lifted above her head. When she was on her feet the pulley continued, lifting her to the tips of her toes before it stopped. She dangled there, barley touching the ground while trying to position her arms to they didn't lock up. 

A hand flattened against her stomach and she was pushed backwards. She swung a few inches as she pulled on the pulley to some stability. As she regain her position a rope was thrown around her stomach and tied. She couldn't make out the pattern, but she felt three knots going down her belly. His breathing was soft and she could feel his breath fanning against her face. Terry kissed her as he tested the tightness of the knots. He bit her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he pulled away. 

A heavy hand landed on her knee and pushed it towards her stomach. There was another rope, binding her leg to her thigh. It left her on one foot and she could feel the cool air between her legs, the dampness she had been trying to stifle had reared its ugly ass betraying head. His hand dipped between her thighs as he admired his work. 

"You should see how good you look." 

He circled her, his hand dragging over her sensitive skin. The ropes pressed into her. The snug binding provided the touch she was craving for a brief moment. 

"Fine ass." He breathed into her ear. "It's a shame what I have planned for it." 

She wanted him to act. 

He pulled her back against his chest. His hand crept down her stomach, dangerously close to her sex. Swatting her ass, Terry resumed being distant. She could hear ropes as they fell to the floor. A third was hooked into the knots on her stomach and she felt it being raised. Secured, Terry bought her other leg up to her chest and bound it the same as the other. The elevated open frog pose split open her slit and his greedy eyes fell to the way she was beginning to drip. He knew he was on the right track, but like her, he liked to fuck shit up too. 

He walked to the pulley on the wall that held her hands up and released it. The tension slackened so quickly that Nami anticipated falling to the ground. However, the impact never came. She had instinctively clenched her eyes shut. The blindfold reminded her she was visonless when she opened her eyes. 

Dangling from the ceiling, she was at his mercy. 

"I know you don't remember the order of kinks on the list I gave you. But I am sure you are familiar with this one, baby." 

Terry came to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips and she had learned quickly how menacing his hands could be. From giving out pleasure to swatting her ass into hell, they were becoming a terror to her temperament. When he stepped between her thighs, she could feel his bulge; firm, rigid, hard against her sex. 

"Perfect." 

He steps away from her and if only she could see the grin on his lips. 

"Acknowledge with your hands." He ordered. 

Leather. 

Wet. 

Stinging. 

He struck her with a long black riding crop on her inner thighs. Nami jerked against the only rope holding her up and Terry landed a corrective swat to her side. She twisted away from the sting. 

She held up one finger, a tremble in her hand as it dropped and dangled beside her. The pull on her stomach was uncomfortable. She felt like she was being split down the middle. The crop slid down between her breast, circled her nipples before it smacked them both. Her body tried to curl in on itself, but the rope restricted the movement. 

Each his was harder than the last, she was whimpering, trying to keep the noise down, but he wasn't making it easier. It was like he was hitting her to make her make noise. He wanted her to break. He wanted to hear her, but between the pain and his unrelenting strikes to her body, Nami felt warm. She couldn't rub her thighs together, but her pussy betrayed her even further and began to leak and drip to the floor. She wasn't sure if he noticed, but she could feel her slickness sliding between her ass cheeks. 

The crop landed between her legs, stroking her cunt and coating the leather in slick. He popped her a few times, laughing slightly as she hissed between her clenched teeth. She knew he was building up to something, but the what still thwarted her. 

For Terry she was a blank canvas and the crop was his paint brush. He littered her body with hits, ignoring the way she curled way from him. It was a game then and he chased her. The crop became an extension of him and when he drew his hand back, to swat her ass for what he was sure the hundredth time, he heard it. Like her cunt, her face was leaking. Fresh tears rolled down her face as she began to grasp as the air around her for something to hold on to. She wasn't outright crying, but when he walked to stand by her head, he could see her lips trembling. Her body was betraying her. He was elated to see her reaction. It wasn't about enjoyment.

This wasn't her playtime. 

Terry grabbed her head and pulled her up, the blood rushed down her body and she instantly felt loopy. He pulled off the blindfold, her red eyes brimmed with unshed tears. 

Nami studied his face. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking through her. Terry's tongue flatted against her cheek as he licked her tears. The salty taste almost as good as what he knew her pussy tasted like. He let her go, watching her body swing towards the floor before it was caught by her restraints. 

She doesn't remember how many time he hit her but when her body was lowered to the ground and she was turned on her stomach, she knew he had. Of course he had. 

He came to a stop beside her, the crop hung at his side. His dick strained against his sweats and threatened to burst out. Not that she'd mind it. She'd much rather be choking on dick than her tears. She pressed her forehead into the floor only for it to be yanked up. 

"You stopped counting after seven. You missed the last thirteen. I'll add it to your tab. I want you to feel it." 

Terry cut the rope around her stomach and legs, though he didn't leave her unbound for long. She could hear another drawer opening and slamming shut as she laid on the floor. 

His disregard for her was hurtful as if he didn't care about how she was feeling. 

You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either.

This time she was crying from his distance and not the physical distance. He wasn't here with her. She could usually read him and figure out how to lure softness from him. Terry had been keeping himself at a distance and only perused her body when he wanted to. She had been resistant to him the entire night, pushing back in hopes he would break, but the past few hours hadn't given her any reprieve. He just became rougher, testing her limits, and kept his emotions in check. He didn't seem to have any buttons to push and Nami whimpered into the floor. 

The rope was black this time as he pushed her on her stomach. Her feet were bound together first and he lifted them. The ache in her thighs and legs magnified as they fell to the ground with a hard thud. 

She saw a flash of yellow and a dress was tugged over her head. The blindfold was put back on and she was pulled up and over Terry's shoulder. His hands smacked the back of her thighs in jest. Mocking her for crying. 

"Oh, baby,' he jeered, "Daddy making you cry?" 

Nami felt the chill of the air as they stepped outside to his car. She noted the sunset, the various colors muddled together from the blindfold and the upside down position. 

"It's good for you. I want you pleading for me to let up and while your begging me for a break, I'm going to keep breaking you." His finger dug into the flesh of her ass. "I'm going to make you mourn, baby." 

A few beeps later and she was on her feet as Terry opened the trunk of the car. 

"Let's go for a ride." 

Nami lied in the trunk of Terry's car as he drove. He had given her a yellow dress, but between the blindfold and her tightly bound wrists, she didn't know what it looked liked. Each bump of the road jolted Nami around the trunk and she ended up on her stomach, her hogtied hands and feet up in the air. 

Positional restraint asphyxia, he had explained while she dangled from his basement ceiling. On her stomach, the strain in her arms and the tight space made the trunk feel even smaller. Nami laid her head down, breathing in slowly through her nose. He had taped her mouth shut and with the blindfold, she could only hear and it was driving her insane. The car came to a sudden stop and Nami rolled to her side unintentionally. She could hear his door slamming shut and the shuffle of his boots on the ground as he approached the back of the car. 

From the outside, Terry rubbed his gloved hand over the top of the trunk, patting it twice before it opened. Nami flinched from the sudden sound and she could hear Terry speaking. He unclipped her hands and feet before dragging her out of the car. He snatched off the blindfold and helped her stand up. 

"Welcome to my playhouse,' he muttered, a grin slowly creeping on his lips. 

Legs weak, Nami was pushed towards the large house. She looked around in the cover of night, eyes blurry, and saw a long path that led to the backyard. She could see tall bushes over the fence line. Terry dragged her up the steps, picking her up off her feet twice to get her up the stairs faster. There was no change in his breathing, no struggle, no pause. 

"I did what you liked,' he said flippantly, "now we'll do what I like." 

Had they done what she liked? Maybe she liked being tied, but the way he tied her wasn't what she would call fun. As her eyes began to adjust, she noted the darkness of the house. She stood in the foyer, the new surroundings heightening her anxiety for what was to come. He left her there and she looked around, taking only a few steps into the living room. 

Terry was a man starved at this point. He tasted her sweet pussy and wanted more. He needed more from her but he wanted her leaking everywhere. He wanted to choke her full of his dick. 

Like a lumberjack, Terry stalked into the living room dressed in all black. His outfit consisted of his tactical gear, a grin, heavy boots and he even had a pair in his hand. Nami stood there, the rope bruises decorated her arms and legs in red and yellow splotches, the yellow peasant dress covered just enough. As sheer at it was she might as well be naked. She much preferred that than to this. He knelt in front of her and helped her into the boots. His rough hands trailed up her legs and back down. His eyes were lustfull with pupils blown like he was on drugs. 

He stood up and pointed towards the back yard. 

"I want to see how good those skills are." He whispered in her ear. "I'm going to give you a two minute headstart. Hide from me and don't let me catch you." 

He pushed her towards the back patio door. He told her nothing about the house. It was designed by a company who specialized in primal play. The entire house was a Dom's version of paradise. The unique feature Nami pushed the door open and ran into was a maze. It was around six feet high of thick bushes. It was artificial for safety as on each wall of the bushes was a kill switch to flatten them to the ground. It was dark and the ground lighting was few and far in between. She had just enough to see. It was cool, the air a bit chilly in the temperature controlled place. Nami's heart raced in her chest as she rounded corner after corner, looking for a hiding spot. 

"Fuck,' she cursed, panting as she came to a halt at a dead end. 

She turned around, managing to slip down another pathway that led towards a fountain. She had two options to pick from and as the blood rushed behind her ears her eyes darted between each choice. 

“You’re so fucking loud, Nami, damn. You’re making this too easy.” 

Terry strutted into the area just a few paces from where she stood. 

“Come here.”

Nami took a step backwards. He shook her head, remembering the words he told her just five minutes ago. Don’t let me catch you.  

Nami turned on her heels and bolted down one of the paths. It was darker and colder in this area and she realized he set different temperatures for certain paths. Her breathing became labored as the path came to an end. Nami slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her panting. The bushes were moving. He was running. This time he was too close to turn and go back. She could hear his heavy boots as they smacked against the ground. Nami clenched her eyes shut as his boots stopped just on the other side of the bush. She could vaguely see his silhouette as he drew closer. His boot came into her line of sight first. Then his legs. In the dark she could barely make out his features. 

“Found you,” he sings in a whisper. 

Nami takes a step back, the bushes stopping her. Her dominant reached out for her and she shook, dodging his attempt to grab her. Terry loudly kissed his teeth. 

“Don’t play with me.” 

Nami wasn’t just going to let him catch her. If he wanted to play then she’d play. Nimble, she waited for him to grab her a second time. She lifted her hands and slipped out his grasp, using the momentum, she spun and put space between them.

"Nami." 

He reached for her and curled his hand around her neck. He was standing to his full height, breathing heavy, and she dropped her weight, the sudden change causing his grip to slacken. She smacked his hand away and ducked under him. 

“Nami,” he growled. “If I get my hands-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish that sentence. Instead she ran back down the path, stumbling and detouring to the left instead of the right. These pathways were shorter, less dead ends but more curves and cut away bushes. She slipped in and out of them, panting from frustration as it seemed like she was running in a circle. 

Her chest burned as she tried to keep her breathing down. She didn’t want to make too much noise and alert him to where she was. She also couldn’t drag this chase out. He wasn’t going to let her get away so easily a third time. She could hear the frustration in his voice a few minutes ago. 

I'm going to tear that ass up! 

His voice echoed through the maze and she couldn't pinpoint where he was. 

When I get my fucking hands on you! 

Nami's head snapped up then she looked down where the lights were. His shadow stalked closer and she walked backwards. He as on the other side of the bushes, just within reach, but out of sight. Slapping her hands over her mouth, Nami tried stepping forward, but his shadow stopped. Surely, if she could see his, he could see hers.  

"Oh, look at that,' he teased darkly, "there she is." 

She pressed herself against the bushes opposite of where he stood. She side walked, hoping he couldn't see her moving. 

"There's no way to get away from me." He tsks. "You go left, I'll see you. If you take the right, that makes it easier to catch you. And Nami,' he says, his voice lowering, "when I catch you." He breathed in and let out a low moan. "That pussy is mine." 

The thrill of the chase was wearing down as his threat on her cunt was said. Though, her clit throbbed at the possibility of being touched again, but her thighs still stung from his earlier punishment. She knew this time would be worse. He planned to lay into her. The soft material of the dress rubbed roughly against her taut nipples. She was aroused in a way that scared her. 

“Come on out.” He sung. “I won’t bite too hard.” 

She had to go left. Nami kicked off the boots, they were heavy and she was much lighter on her bare feet. The thick white socks followed and she tossed them over the hedge she knew he'd look, even for a millisecond- so she B O L T E D. He was right, he would see her if she went left, but in her haste and only when she rounded the corner that she realized she ran past him. Her body flung to the left, nearly toppling to the ground as she skipped slash skidded around the corner. She was sweating at this point and she wiped her forehead with the back of her hands. Her curls were damp around her face and the pretty bow he shoved in her hair had unwoven and was half hanging on to a curl. 

"This nigga,' Nami thought to herself. 

The slight skin tingling feeling of fleeing Terry had ignited a fire in her lower belly. She dared herself and reached between her legs. Sticky. Wet. 

"Can't believe it can you,' Terry says as he approaches. "This nigga what?" He asked. 

Fuck. 

"This game was supposed to have a much……easier endgame, but you like to fuck shit up right at the finish line." 

He looked and pointed over her shoulder. 

"This is the Cave." He explained. "All pathways lead here unless I lead you out." He pulled his phone from his pocket and she figured he opened an app that changed the lighting. "Sound proof, underground." He mused. 

Nami's head snapped up. Underground? Sound proof? Terry watched her; the way her shoulder slumped forward, but he could see she was trying to remain engaged. She had no idea what she had agreed to and standing there she had no idea how she was making Terry feel. Bricked. 

The chase had awakened a piece of him he reserved for work. For training other soldiers. For when he was in the field. She was a target. His two worlds clashing in a satisfactory way and he felt the dopamine release, his body tingling with his own thoughts of filth and hard debauchery. 

He was on her in seconds, hands ripping the fabric of her dress. He pushed her backwards, the ground changing from a hard gym mat material to plush carpets and tile. The end of the maze was a bedroom, stocked with whatever the renter needed at the time. There was an ensuite as well. Terry grabbed at Nami; her waist, her hips, thighs, whatever he could as he kissed her. She was guided to the bed and pushed to the center of it. He shed the gear and she realized it was weighted. Beneath it, his shirt was drenched in sweat and she knew her body was as well. He covered her body with his own, his clothes ending up somewhere across the floor. 

"I should be fucking you right now. But instead, you made a lot of noise tonight. You had the audacity to cum when I told you not too, and you touched my pussy. You. Touched. Me." 

Naked, Terry knelt between her legs, his hands sliding around her waist. His tip brushed through her wet slit, bumping her clit with each upward stroke. 

"I mean,' he grunted, pushing in just the tip, "I know I'm going to fuck you like I hate you." He sunk a few inches deeper, his thumb finding her clit easily. "I'm going to push you to the edge, then snatch you back." 

Nami felt her mouth slide open, her jaw aching as he slid two fingers into her mouth. He pressed them to the back of her tongue as his hips moved slowly between her legs. 

"I should be fucking you like this,' he hums, accentuated his words with shallow thrusts. "But you disobeyed me." He flashed her a toothy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm bullshittin',' he joked. 

"I was never going to fuck you like this." 

Tired was an understatement. Nami's limbs were weak, her shoulders sore, his thighs ached, and her ass felt raw. Terry had laid into her like he said he would and he she was, counting out the slaps to her ass again. 

33. 

Thirty-three. 

He added the thirteen from earlier and had been very intent on her counting each one of them. 

Nami was positon on her hands and knees while he stood in front of her, pumping his dick in and out of her mouth. Her hands dug into the bed, gripping the sheets as he rode her face. The swell of her ass was read, fifteen hits later, and he broke off to fuck her throat. Her collar, which he had taken off prior to the start of all this, was replaced with a belt that was snug around her neck. The rest of the belt was curled around his hand as he pulled, listening to her gag and struggle to breath. He reached down, pinking her nose closed before shoving his dick across her tongue. 

He pulled out and released her nose, the belt slacked and right before he struck her ass for the sixteenth time, he collected her spit and drool in his hand to use. Nami raised her hand, signing the number sixteen before her attention went back to the dick in her mouth. 

"That's it,' he coos tauntingly, 'suck my dick." 

Her head bobbed up and down as she looked up at him. His eyes were on her, focused, but didn't show any emotion or even pleasure. 

"Such a good little slut." He crooned. "This is what you're here for,' he explained. "There you go,' swallow that shit,' he grunt, pushing into her mouth and holding her still again. 

The tension on the belt was sure to leave marks, but Nami was beyond caring. There were no mirrors but when she looked at her wrists and saw the bruising, she knew her body matched. She was littered in red hand prints and rope bruises. She felt the him deep in her bones. Terry was unsettling. His voice lacked emotions. Though she understood the dick twitching in her mouth. 

Terry pulled her of, his dick falling out of her mouth with a wet pop. her mouth was flooded with spit and precum and she pooled it in her mouth before pushing it out. Terry watched it stream to the bed, creating a puddle. 

"Turn around, ass up." 

The anal plug he had neglected shone as the light hit it. He'd been admiring it all night, watching the way it was sucked in each time she clenched. Placing a hand between her shoulders, he pushes Nami into the bed as his dick slipping through her wet slit. 

He didn't ask if she was ready. His hips snapped forward and she almost slide across the bed. How could she want something and pull away from it at the same time. Her pussy was sore and swollen from his lack of attention. She was beyonce aroused. 

She feel him grab the belt against and she's pulled backwards by it. 

Ride it like hydraulics, I am such a tyrant….

One hand planted on her hip he kept her still as his thrust in-and-out while she clung to the bed on her knees. She clenched her teeth with each thrust, stomaching all nine and a half inches from the shallow thrusts. He didn't hold her for long. His hand resumed striking her ass. As if she could see him, she stretched her arm out, counting seventeen in sign language like she had when she reached ten earlier. He followed through with a few more strikes and she clenched around him. He pulled back on the belt and she gagged, tongue rolling out her mouth as she reached towards the belt. 

"Oh?" He says, his hips snapping against her so roughly he could feel his balls slapping up against her clit. "Is this too much?" 

He knew it was. Pushing her back down, he ditched the belt and held her hips. He pulled back to watch how his dick slipped in and out of her. Terry admire his own work. How he stretched her open, how he pulled more and more slit from her pussy, and how he was the cause of her drooling. The silence between them was loud, but couldn't get any louder than the sounds her pussy was making. 

"Dick makes you act right, hm?" Terry slapped her ass twice, alternating cheeks. He brought her up, and pressed his chest to her back. "You should be doing that regardless. Nothing a little correction won't fix." 

The loss of his dick had Nami searching for him again. She felt his hands as they flipped her onto her back. The bed was pulled from her neck and she reached up to touch the sore skin. Her throat was sore and when she had full control of her breathing, Nami turned on her side, erratically sucking in as much air as she could. Terry felt like a distant participant. As if the motions he was going through were robotic and disconnected from the relationship they had built. He put up a solid wall between them, encasing her in his world without letting her into his. This was more than a physical game. It was mental. He was in her head and it made her question her own reality. 

Was she really at this man's mercy?

The anal plug, in it's cute silver and yellow design, was pulled from her ass and tossed beside her head. Something was opened as the sound of a cap filled her ears. Cool and thick, lubricant was drizzled between her legs and his fingers smoothed from her ass to her clit. 

"Pussy fat as fuck,' he noted, "a fucking shame I didn't want to eat it." 

Grabbing her chin, he forced her to look at him. As he had any time he was in her face. "This is where I'm going to nut tonight,' he says as the fat tip of his dick pokes around her asshole. 

The sensation was new and she wiggled as her legs spread to accommodate his body between them. His initial push was slow, the stretch past the first ring of muscles made her hands clench beside her. This was something she wished he had bound her for. 

Nami's hands became sweaty, her legs move towards her chest as she tried not to kick him away as he pushed forward again. Inch my painstakingly thick inch, Terry seated himself in her ass. Hot and tight, he drew back for his first thrust. She didn't know how to feel. Instead, she braced her hands on the back of her thighs. Nami was well aware of how thick his dick was. She had it down her throat and stuff in her pussy like she was a Thanksgiving turkey. He felt bigger, thicker, longer, reaching parts of her that release pleasurable feelings. Feeling him in her ass was different. He stretched her open, mold her ass to his dick, and fucked her roughly. Terry planted his hands on the sides of her head as his hips rocked back and forth. 

"Nasty ass,' he hissed, spittle landing on her face the same way his sweat had. "Look at me when I'm fucking you." 

Nami knew it would come back to haunt her later, but she flattened her hands against his stomach, needing a break from the sensation of being fucked in the ass. Terry didn't stop moving, but she saw the glint in his eyes and could hear the gears turning in his head as he logged away her rule breaking for later. 

He bore down, applying more weight to his thrusts, jerking her up the bed until he had her by the headboard. Terry braced one hand on the headboard and the other grabbed Nami's hands and pinned them above her head. 

"I know you aren't running," he moaned, the sound deep and growl-like. 

"Please,' she whispered, "Terry, please, I can't….' 

His name felt foreign on her lips.

Terry ignored her please, her body twisting beneath him to get away from him egged him on. Encourage him. He let go of the headboard, balancing on his knees, before his hand struck her outer thigh. 

"Shut up." He seethed. 

It had all set in for Nami as he fucked her. His body taut and rigid as he chased his high. She could feel his dick throbbing, the stuttering in his hips as he faltered and fell forward, almost on top of her. 

Her touch triggered him and though he knew it wasn't sexual, his body treated it like it was. Her hands on his stomach felt she had unlocked his orgasm. The fire in his belly built fast, but Terry was faster. He pushed her face into the bed, his weight spread out over his hand and hips. That hand slid down and wrapped around her neck. His thumb pressed into her skin, rubbing back and forth as he chased his own high. 

Beneath him Nami was a mess. She had wrapped her legs around his waist. With no other place to put them she used them to hold on to her dom as he did Dominate things to her ass. Weeks of prep didn't prepare her for the real thing. Being rode like a horse, Nami's breathing hitched, her own orgasm nearing. Her eyes fluttered as she watched his face. The lines around his eyes crinkled as he smirked. 

"I'm a bastard I know,' he murmured. "But you like this shit,' he asked. 

Did she? Or was it the satisfaction she was chasing that she liked, because Terry? Let me chase you Terry? This fucking mean tyrant?  

"You're mean,' she breathed out, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "So mean,' she cried. 

His fingers found her swollen clit. He played with it roughly, pulling, pinching, and rubbing so harshly that Nami didn't know if she was coming or going. Her toes began to curl, back arching upwards before he slammed his hand into her chest and pushed her into the bed. It disoriented her and she lost the orgasm. 

"I think the fuck not." He shouted. 

Ice cold water pelted on her body as her eyes shot open. Nami went to move when an arm tightened around her waist. 

"Keep still baby,' Terry whispered. 

Nami tensed. She opened her mouth to protest when Terry whispered in her ear for her to relax and calm down. 

"Hey,' he says, when she beings to panic, her body shaking from his touch. 

Confusion knit through his brows as they drew together. She didn't know where she was. She just knew the person she was with probably wasn't done with her. The aches in her body detailed the night she had with her dominate. The reminders were littered all over her body. 

"Nami." 

How was she going to apologize for blacking out? 

Terry turned her around and she realized they were sitting on the floor of the shower. 

"They scene is over. I need you to look at me and take a few deep breaths." 

He held her face in his hands. The gentleness drastically different from what she had experienced that day. She didn't know what time it was. She just knew that she was overwhelmed, wired, and slightly scared. He leaned in to kiss her and she flinched. He took no offense. He knew she had to fully come down from that high. Everything he put her through wasn't normal by most standards. He pushed her to her limits mentally and Nami wasn't sure how she felt. For her their dynamic had shifted. She couldn't treat this like some one off or some once in a blue moon event. Terry had flipped her inside out. Rewired her in a way she didn't understand. He owned her body at this point.

He used her. 

"Tell me how you're feeling." 

There was still an edge to his voice. A bite he was trying to ease away. 

"I'm sore." She croaked. "I touched you. I'm sorry!" Her voice cracked and she started to cry again. "I passed out!" 

Terry was far from upset with her. He had spent the day dragging her through his ticks and the fact that she only touched him, intentionally, once was a miracle. How she was able to have that restraint when he was unrestrained on her body needed some rewarding. 

"36." He replied. "I still fucked you. I made you into my little Twinkie, twice." 

"Huh?"

36. The submissive wants to experience somnophilia. 

He ignored her and turned on the warm water. Helping her to her feet, he held her up and bathed her. Starting his aftercare while she regained some strength to stand on her own. He kissed each bruise, rope mark, and red splotch on her warm brown skin. His praise mingled with the rhythmic pelting of the shower water on the tiles. 

You did good. 

Such a good girl you were. 

Nami let her head fall back against the shower wall as he lowered to his knees. Her leg was lifted up and onto his shoulder. His mouth latched onto her clit, sucking slowly as she looked down at him. 

Those blue green eyes stared back up at her. She recognized them this time and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

"Oh, Daddy,' he whimpered. "I missed you." 

[alwaysobsessed777]

Ooo you could do one with Nika coming back to UConn the other day, maybe her gf is still in school (doesn’t have to be on the team) so they get to visit and go to the game together, just a fluffy one :)

BACK HOME - N.M.

Back on my shit....imma write my Nika fluff so enjoy

"I TOLD YOU!" Paige's voice echoed through the gym. Rolling my eyes, I chased after the ball.

"Next time....you're getting the ball yourself," throwing the ball a little harder than intended, it bounced off the blonde's head.

"BRO....WATCH THE BRAIDS!"

"Shut up, P," Azzi screamed from the bench, earning a stuck out tounge in return.

"Yeah, Twin. Shut up."

The voice stopped me in my tracks. Everyone's eyes landed on me. Slowly turning around, I was meet with the girl I had been missing for months.

Nika.

"Hey, baby," even before both words could fall from her lips, my arms wrapped around her. My head nuzzled itself into her neck. Words couldn't describe how much I've missed her.

"I see that I've been missed..." one of her hands gently rubbed my back, the other softly combing through my hair.

My head shot up, looking at the Croatian, "how...hie are you here?"

She pretended to think, "A plane...a car...anything really that moves would help me get here."

I chuckle, "shut up, smartass."

"you've missed it....i know it."

She wasn't wrong. I did miss it. I missed everything about her. Her smile, her eyes, her charm, her voice. You name it, I've missed it.

"Can we get going, bruh," the blonde's hand gripped onto my shoulder, but nothing adverted my attention from my girlfriend. "We have a game to warm up for...earth to y/n?"

"shut up, I'm with my girlfriend." Paige huffed, stomping off somewhere.

Nika separated us enough to intertwine our hands, walking is to the bench. Her waves of brown flowed over her shoulders, bouncing a little with each step.

"I wanna talk ...catch up on things," nervousness laced her voice. The small sound to her tone made her cute, the same voice she used to ask me out.

"that's sounds like an amazing idea," the seats being comfortable enough, we sat down. "I've missed you a lot, Nika."

"I've missed you too, y/n."

A silence fell between us, our eyes locking, before a comfortable laughter escaped both of us. The awkward tension being from not seeing each other for months, but you could feel it slowly dissipating.

"So...basketball season?"

I groaned, "don't get me started on it....like why are we good...but not like last year good."

"you don't have me..." she waited for my reaction, a smirk playing on her lips.

"you know....i know you're joking...but we truly need a get you back in a UConn jersey," laughing it out, Nika snickered.

"only if I could," a sadness contorted on her perfect features. I instantly felt bad.

"I'm sorry."

"hey...don't be. I'll eventually be able to get back on the court."

I nodded, "....are you excited to watch us tonight?"

"I'm excited to watch you!" Her hands clasped around my face, a smile stretched on her lips.

"I love you," she rested her forehead on mine, a small gesture that always made my heart flutter.

"I love you too," she leaned back, looking me straight in the eyes, "also...im wearing your jersey...i better see the best game ever from you."

"yes ma'am," snickering, her hands fell from my face.

She leaned in, capturing my lips in hers. They moved together as if they were a puzzle being pieced together. Her hands landing on my waist, pulling me closer to her. My hands worked towards the back of her neck. My fingers fiddling with her brown hair.

"uh...guy?" A voice broke is out of the small trance we were previously in. "Geno said stop sucking each others faces."

"Paige, shut up."

She held her hands up in surrender, "hey, don't kill the delivery guy."

"I think she said that completely wrong," I looked at the brunette beside me.

"she definitely did," she looked at me again with her brown doe eyes, my favorite sight, "I should let you get to practice...remember....play for me babe"

"I would never play for anyone else."

***********

A/n : sorry if this sucks.....I got the urge to write....and wrote half of this like asleep....don't ask how

[glassrowboat]

Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

[aventurineswife]

Hi! This request is based on something personal that I do, so I was wondering if you could do it (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

It's about how readers are cold people (regarding temperature) they're always cold no matter where they are, then one day they hug the character (Aventurine, Sampo, Caelus and finally Childe), instead of it being a nice hug as it should be, the reader puts his hands under the character's shirt and it's worth mentioning that the reader has a low temperature therefore his hands are terribly cold. The reader did that just to annoy the character, also because he likes the character's warmth. It's something I do with my friends to annoy them ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

-💤🩵 anon

“The cold never bothered me anyway”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Childe x Reader, Caelus x Reader, Flirting, Playful Teasing, Cold/Heat Contrast, Romantic Tension, Physical Touch (Hugging, Hands slipping under clothes), Vulnerability, Mutual attraction.

Warnings: Mild suggestiveness, Light discomfort (due to cold touch), Emotional vulnerability, Potential tension.

A/N: I'm not saying you're obsessed with Childe... But you're obsessed with him. I should probably run to hide my warmth 🏃‍♀️, don't know I'm still warm while wearing a tshirt and shorts in literal winter...🧍‍♀️

Aventurine leaned against the balcony railing, his ever-present smile in place, his golden rings catching the light from the stars above. Life was a game, and he always played to win—until now. You, however, were a challenge he hadn't quite figured out. Every time you entered the room, he could feel the chill in the air, the coldness seeping from your very presence, making him both curious and wary.

"Careful now, my dear," Aventurine said, his tone teasing, his eyes glinting beneath the soft light. "You're starting to freeze the very air around you."

You grinned, taking it in stride. "Maybe it's just you who's too warm."

With a sly smirk, you approached him. Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him in a quick, almost too casual embrace. Aventurine’s laughter bubbled up at first, amused by your spontaneous affection. But then, the chill from your hands, as they slipped under his shirt and brushed against his warm skin, sent a shiver down his spine.

"You," Aventurine hissed, pulling back just enough to look at you with narrowed eyes, a mixture of annoyance and something deeper flickering behind his gaze. "Do you ever stop? I’m quite certain your hands could freeze the very life from me if you tried."

You only laughed, keeping your hands there, enjoying the sudden jolt of warmth his body gave you as he shifted uncomfortably. His usual suave charm seemed to falter for a brief moment, a rare glimpse of vulnerability.

"You’ve got all this warmth, Aventurine," you murmured playfully. "I think it’s only fair I take some."

Aventurine’s smile returned, but there was an edge to it. "You’re playing a dangerous game. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, dear. But, I must admit," he said, moving slightly closer, "it's rather... fun."

His words were calculated, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable.

Sampo paced around the bustling market square, always scanning for opportunities, always searching for his next big score. Yet, whenever you were around, he found himself distracted, his usual confidence slipping into something more unsure. There was something about your icy presence that gnawed at him.

"Hey, hey, don't give me that cold shoulder!" Sampo called out with a grin, catching you just as you passed by.

You simply smirked, the chill in your step unmistakable as you approached him with a twinkle in your eye. "What’s the matter, Sampo? You don’t seem as warm as usual."

Sampo raised an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, but before he could retreat, you suddenly wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He grunted in surprise, but it was the sudden coldness from your hands slipping under his jacket that made his eyes widen.

"Sampo," you whispered mischievously, your fingers grazing his skin. "You're always so warm. Thought I'd help you cool off."

Sampo froze for a moment, his usual smooth talk faltering as your icy touch made him shiver. "O-Okay, that’s it!" he sputtered, trying to squirm free, but your hold was unyielding. "You better be paying me for this kind of service!"

You just leaned in closer, savoring the way his body stiffened in discomfort. "You’re always talking about warmth, but now you get to feel it from me."

"You’re lucky I’m not charging you double for this, you little...!" Sampo snapped, though the playful irritation in his voice was more endearing than anything. He couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Aha, I guess I’ll have to get you back, huh?"

The Astral Express was always a whirlwind of motion, a place where time and space seemed to bend. But even among the stars, there was something about you that made Caelus uneasy. His curious eyes often lingered on you, and while he could never pinpoint it, there was an undeniable tension in the air between you two.

"Everything okay?" Caelus asked, walking up to you with a soft smile, his eyes always so calm.

You shrugged, your cold aura wrapping around him even as you stood by his side. "Everything’s fine," you said. "Just a bit cold, that’s all."

His eyes softened at the admission. He had always been sensitive to the feelings of others, and he could tell that you weren’t just referring to the temperature.

Without warning, you wrapped your arms around him, and Caelus tensed. It was warm, almost like a protective instinct, until he felt the sudden chill of your hands pressing against his skin, slipping beneath his jacket.

"Wait—!" Caelus began to protest, but the icy sensation sent a sharp shiver through him, his breath catching for a second.

You grinned into his ear. "Just wanted to see if you were as warm as you seem."

Caelus’s face flushed, his composure slipping as the coldness spread through his chest. "That's... that's not what I meant..." His voice trailed off, and his arms instinctively pulled away from you, trying to escape the discomfort of your touch, but there was a subtle warmth in his reaction too, an appreciation for the closeness.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Relax, Caelus. Just a little cold comfort. Besides, you’re so warm I could get used to it."

He blinked at you, unable to hide his smile, despite the discomfort. "You... really are something else," he muttered, though a soft glow of affection began to flicker in his eyes.

[Header credits]

Childe was known for his toughness, his unshakable resolve in the face of any challenge. But when you entered his presence, it was as if a strange vulnerability crept into his heart. The way you held yourself, so cold yet so determined—it made him curious, though he’d never admit it.

"What’s the deal with you, huh?" Childe grinned, leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. "You always give off this frosty vibe."

You smirked back, walking closer to him with a casual air. "Maybe I just like your warmth, Childe."

Before he could respond, you wrapped your arms around him, the sudden hug catching him off guard. He was ready to laugh it off, but then, the icy shock of your hands sliding beneath his shirt made him stiffen, his breath hitching in surprise.

"Hey!" Childe exclaimed, quickly pulling back. "What the hell was that?"

You grinned widely, savoring the way he recoiled. "Just wanted to see if you could handle a little cold," you teased, your hands lingering for just a moment longer.

He shivered, but not from the cold. There was a heat to the way his body responded to you, despite the discomfort. "You think you can just sneak up on me like that?" he grumbled, though his tone lacked the usual sharpness.

"You should be more careful next time," you teased, stepping back with a satisfied smile.

Childe couldn’t help but laugh. "You're lucky I like a good challenge," he muttered, his grin wide and genuine, the warmth in his gaze unmistakable.

[gayofthefae]

Thinking about how Will is fully able to flirt but cannot handle being flirted with and the deeper reason that actually is

Will has settled for the idea of never being with Mike. Even referencing coming out to Mike he only ever frames it as not wanting to "lie to Mike" and simply wanting to share "the truth" with who he "care[s] about the most". Never an expectation or attempt at reciprocation. It is consistently based and in reference to how he feels about secrets from his loved ones, and only ever mentioned in reference to actual romance by El.

He has settled. But the thing about settling, part of it inherently that is under-talked about, is the part where you find ways to love your life. Settling is not resigning, that would be super depressing, because when someone settles it is them committing to a lesser life than they had dreamed because more is not an option for them. It is out of their control or the wrong choice somehow, and in those situations, you make the best of it.

So to Will, he will never have Mike. In fact, in all likelihood he will never experience romance. In his entire life - even if he die of natural causes in old age and not monsters at 15. But you make the best of it. And it's logical:

If Mike fully does not reciprocate, is oblivious to his feelings, and repeatedly affirms that he didn't mean what he said that made it seem like he was uncomfortable and he is totally fine - like the audience believes (again, BECAUSE Will believes this and is the one telling this story in s4) - then there are absolutely 0 consequences to having an ambiguous flirt here and there. No one can fault him, it's the closest he will ever get to romance as a queer person, so he takes what he can get. No damage to Mike and El's relationship. No discomfort to Mike. Hell, Mike doesn't even really notice.

So Will's expectation is occasional, one-sided flirting. A sort of playing pretend I suppose. And Mike smiles and that can be part of the game. It makes sense. Because often, he doesn't say anything back.

He just smiles...except for once

I always want to jokingly yell at my screen in this moment "what do you mean you're shy now? YOU initiated flirting with HIM"

but it does make sense given his expectations; given the history I hadn't tracked before from his perspective. Not only are his expectations of a lack of matching energy (as I have pointed out repeatedly before, genuinely should not match if unreciprocated - could even just be the comment vs silent smile thing they had going before) completely realistic, they have also been proven in practice!

And I always want to tease him that he started it but really, he didn't. Because any time he does this, it has 0 intention to "start" anything. Not even this much of an exchange. He's doing it for himself, to play pretend. It's like Mike is breaking the fourth wall.

It was completely plausible for him to act coy and surprised by Mike here, as if Mike had initiated this tone, because even something as simple and small as this had *never been reciprocated like this before*. The rest of the conversation is Mike's traditional pace in terms of romantic-adjacent to Will, but participating in the playfulness is new.

I like to tease him in my head. But Will being flustered by a natural response to his statement and the tone he himself set is logical. Because to Will, in a way, Mike can't see him. Mike doesn't know he's doing this, and Mike certainly can't engage.

This is Mike engaging. This is Mike *participating*. This is Mike acknowledging 'you just pitched me a line, and I'm taking it this time'. And in a way, this is also one of this micro-reveals you get in your life. This is also Mike saying 'I'm not oblivious to it and I never have been, I just didn't engage until now. But now I am. (And none of those smiles were that oblivious either)'.

And the other stuff Mike says afterwards is much more similar to things he's before, so it didn't always click for me the specifics. But I get it now. I get why this is different than all those other times. I get why he grabs the painting on his way out. Will learned something about Mike from this conversation.

It's absolutely tiny. Two lines. But there is one moment in the series where they have truly reciprocated and interestingly enough, it's this. We always get "if we're both going crazy we'll go crazy together" "yeah" "it was the best thing I've ever done" "..." even "the last year has been weird, you know? And Max and Lucas and Dustin, they're great, they're great, it's just-it's Hawkins, it's not the same without you. And I feel like maybe I was worrying too much about El and, I don't know, I feel like I lost you or something, does that make sense? I have no idea what's gonna happen next, but whatever it is, I think it'll be easier if we're team. Friends - Best friends." "Cool." (WILL BYERS OH MY GOD!! 'cool'???)

but this was two-ways. And it quickly ended because then they kinda didn't know what to do, understandably. This is basically a long and queer trauma way of saying that that look from Will is a completely logical moment of "shit, I didn't think I'd get this far".

Analysis on Mike's perspective/behavioral shift to respond in this scene

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 138

jack had your valentine's day planned out long before the day arrived. a cute little picnic out in the february sun, with all of your favorite snacks and possibly even some painting. but when the day finally arrived, you both woke up to a storm.

typical jack to not check the weather beforehand.

however, the day was far from ruined. instead, you had your picnic in jack's living room, spending the day listening to the raindrops against the windows and just enjoying each others' presence. jack eventually brought out his old photo albums from when he and his brothers were still kids – ones you had never seen before, because otherwise you would've been obsessing over them every day up until now.

"this is from luke's tenth birthday," jack said, pointing at a picture of his brother with his face stuffed full of cake. in the next one, a dalmatian was licking whipped cream off his face. "our dog, amber. not nearly as calm as you could think from just looking at her."

"she looks sweet, though," you commented, eyes flickering over another picture of amber fast asleep in jack's embrace.

"her looks betray her." jack shuffled a little closer to you on the couch, side of his head leaning against yours. "i've been thinking about getting a new one, actually."

"a dog?"

"no, a new brother." he hissed when your elbow thrust into his side. "maybe not a dalmatian specifically, but… i don't know. i've just thought about it."

the next page showed a few pictures of jack on a stage, sitting in front of a grand piano in a pretty suit. he can't have been more than 13, and your eyebrows rose at the sight. "a piano man, huh?"

he rolled his eyes. "mom forced me to take classes. i hated it at first, but then…" he shrugged. "i kept it up for five years, and it grew on me. it was kind of nice to have something else to focus on other than hockey."

you never could've guessed that he would have done something like that. jack was so sporty, a very typical jock boy – he seemed more likely to be the one making fun of the music nerds than be one himself.

even when you'd spent so much time with him, you realized that you still had so much to learn about him; so many new sides to discover, so many layers to unravel.

frightening? no, exciting.

"i remember this one time when i was fourteen… quinn and luke were at some friend's house, so i was the only child at home. and our parents were fighting." your gaze fell to his hand which was resting all lonely on his thigh, so you took it in yours. "they were, like, yelling and everything. and i couldn't do anything about it. so i just sat down at the piano at home, and… played." you could feel the shakiness in the deep breath he took, but you didn't say anything, instead settling for a squeeze of his hand. "i think i did it to drown out the sound. it was the only thing i could control."

of course. his need for stability and to always be in control was deeply rooted in him. it made so much sense being put in perspective with your relationship; he craved the stability of knowing you're there with him and he hated the way you pulled away, leaving him unsure.

"what made you quit?" you hummed after a few long moments of silence.

"hockey was getting more serious… and the guys on the team didn't really think it was cool to spend my free time learning how to play classical pieces."

"i'm sure you still remember something," you said, head resting on his shoulder. "you should play for me sometime."

"i promise." he kissed the top of your head before flipping over to the last page of the book, revealing even more pictures of little jack – this time with a big, red bruise on the side of his cheek and boxing gloves covering his hands. "oh, right. i used to box."

"oh, you were a little fighter, huh?" you joked. "how come?"

"hockey wasn't enough. i wanted to be physical off the ice, too." his tone was lighthearted, yet there was a hint of sincerity in it. "something about it made me feel… invincible, you know? knowing that i could take a hit and still stand to deliver one of my own."

"uh uh. sounds totally sane."

he reached up to flick your forehead with his fingers, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze as an apology. "i guess, as a kid, i felt… powerless? a lot of the time. especially when my parents argued. and boxing helped with that," he said, and you could feel him nodding along to his words. "once, my dad came home from a night out with a black eye, and i've never felt so useless. i wanted to be able to fight back for him. or myself. or anyone else who needs it."

you want to protect them, you thought to yourself. his protective instinct was clear as day – even in the way he couldn't not be there for you, even when you said you didn't need a relationship or someone to take care of you.

he didn't fight just to fight. he fought to protect. it was the same thing with his fight at the first game of his you attended; he punched that rangers player to protect his teammate, not because he wanted to injure him.

"my coaches told me that i had to quit once i joined the ntdp, though. it made sense, since i never thought i'd have to use it in real life," jack said with a shrug. "so i didn't argue. but, in some twisted way, boxing made me less physical on the ice. like i had an outlet, somewhere to just let it all go, so i could just skate away from arguments on the ice."

"you're a good man, jack hughes," you said, leaning slightly to the side so that you could look up at him, glistening eyes studying his features. "you know that, right?"

he paused for a few moments, merely breathing as his gaze fell on you. "i'm good because of you. you make me want to be good."

[cherry-zip]

─ 𝜗𝜚 NJM .ᐟ Pink or Revenge

› content ┆ nail tech Jaemin x fem reader, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2.6k. ⌁ summary ┆Jaemin, your flirty nail tech, did your nails last week for a Valentine's Day date with your boyfriend. Today, on Valentine's Eve, you're back for a revenge set, and Jaemin might take this as an opportunity.

✧ happy valentine's day ✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

The soft chime of the doorbell jingled softly as you stepped into the nail salon, the familiar faint scent of lavender and citrus wafting through the air. The serene atmosphere of the salon was always comforting, a place where you could relax and let go of the stress of the world. You smiled and waved at the receptionist, who greeted you with a warm smile, before you made your way to the back of the salon where your favorite nail tech, Jaemin, worked.

He was leaning back in his chair, inspecting what seemed like new polishes under the light with a focused look. The moment he saw you, that signature mischievous grin appeared on his face. His eyes sparkled as he took in your presence, and you could practically hear the playful tone in his voice before he even spoke.

“Well, well, look who it is. Back for another round of pampering,” Jaemin drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with playful charm. “What’s the occasion this time? Last week, you were all about pink for your hot date. Let me guess, something’s changed?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, sitting down in the plush chair as Jaemin slid over to you. He was always so sassy, always teasing you, and it was honestly half the reason you came back so often. That, and his impeccable skills. Jaemin’s nails were always on point, and he was an artist when it came to designs. But right now, you weren’t in the mood for a cute Valentine’s Day set. No, this time, you were preparing for something else entirely.

“Well,” you started, leaning forward with a mischievous smile. “Let’s just say... I need a revenge set. I need something to take my frustration out on.”

Jaemin’s eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued, and he raised an eyebrow as he slid on his gloves. “Revenge? Oh, this sounds juicy. Do tell.”

You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, and you couldn’t help but smirk as you launched into your story.

“So, I had a date planned for Valentine’s Day with my boyfriend right.. well ex, all sweet and cute, right? I even got my nails done by you in that cute pink set, all ready to impress.” You paused for dramatic effect, leaning back in your chair. “And then, out of nowhere, he cancels. Just like that. With no explanation. The nerve of him. He says he's too ‘busy’ to meet up, but I think he’s just playing me. He’s been doing this way more frequently these past weeks. Typical.”

Jaemin’s grin only grew wider, as if he was enjoying your drama more than he should. He pulled out a set of tools and started preparing for the manicure, but his attention was fully on you now.

You looked down at his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch. It was reassuring, but at the same time, it made your heart race a little faster than it should. Jaemin had a way of making everything feel... good. He made you feel seen. And maybe that’s why, even though you were here to get your nails done, there was something else you couldn't quite shake off. Something in the way he made you feel like the center of attention.

“Ah, now you’re speaking my language. A revenge set, huh? I can totally get behind that. But, princess,” he said, his tone turning smooth and sultry, “I think I can give you a little more than just some killer nails. How about a little bit of... a Valentine’s Day date?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “A... date? With you?”

Jaemin's eyes glinted with mischief as he nodded. “Why not? I mean, I’m already taking care of your nails, making you look fine as hell. What’s a little extra time spent with me? Plus, I know exactly how to make that boy jealous. Trust me, after one night with me, he’ll be begging for you back.”

Your pulse quickened, though you tried to play it cool. Jaemin had always been a flirt, but this was something else. His confidence was almost... irresistible.

“So, what are you thinking?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Jaemin smirked as he began removing your old nail set, his fingers brushing against your hands with practiced ease. “Well, babe, you don’t just want to get your nails done. You want to make a statement. You want him to regret ever messing with you. You need to look absolutely stunning—like you’re having the best time of your life while he's sulking at home. And then, after I finish, we’ll go out, have dinner, and show him exactly what he’s missing. I can make sure of that.” He flashed you that signature confident smile that always made your heart flutter.

You bit your lip. There was no denying the allure of Jaemin's proposal. Part of you wanted to stay mad at your ex, to make him regret what he did, but another part of you couldn't resist the idea of spending an evening with Jaemin. There was something about his playful nature and the way he made everything seem so effortless. The playful banter was one thing, but the way his eyes held yours now was different. It felt... intentional.

“And what exactly do you have in mind?” you asked, leaning in, intrigued.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart," Jaemin purred as he gently pushed your hands into a soaking bowl. “I’ve got a few ideas in mind. Something that’ll make him wish he was the one sitting across from you on Valentine’s Day. Well, let’s just say we’re going bold today. You want something dramatic, something that screams ‘I’m not your second choice.’ I’m thinking dark reds, sleek black accents, maybe a touch of gold to give it that little extra flair.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nerves easing as you settled back in the chair. Jaemin always had that effect on you. He made you feel good, like you were special—even if it was just for the duration of your time together. “That sounds exactly like what I need.”

As he worked, the conversation shifted. He asked about your ex, about the date that never happened, and you found yourself telling him more than you thought you would. Jaemin listened intently, his sharp eyes studying your expressions and your words with a mix of amusement and understanding. He had this uncanny ability to get under your skin but in the best way possible.

Jaemin flashed a grin, his eyes twinkling. "Good choice. Trust me, when you walk out of here, no one will be able to take their eyes off you. Especially not your ex."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of him. Jaemin was right. This wasn’t just about nails anymore. It was about reclaiming your power, and your confidence. And maybe, just maybe, Jaemin was helping you see that you deserved better than the guy who had just thrown you away.

As Jaemin began preparing the base coat, you couldn't help but notice how focused he was. His movements were precise, yet fluid, his hands graceful as he worked. There was something hypnotic about the way he handled his tools, the way his fingers moved with practiced ease over your nails.

“So,” he said, leaning over you as he carefully painted your nails, “tell me, what exactly did he say when he canceled?”

You sighed dramatically. “He said he had to ‘work late,’ but I have access to his schedule. He had no meetings, nothing going on whatsoever. He was just... too lazy to go out with me.” You scoffed. “Typical again.”

Jaemin’s fingers paused mid-motion. He raised an eyebrow and gave you a sly grin. “That sounds... suspicious. Maybe he found someone else.”

“Ugh, don’t even,” you groaned, pushing back in your chair. “You’re probably right. It doesn’t help that he’s always a little too ‘friendly’ with the girls at the bar.”

“Maybe he’s not worth your time, then,” Jaemin said, his voice suddenly soft. He looked up at you, his expression more sincere now. “I get it. You wanted to feel like he was worth it. But babe, you're worth more than just looking cute. You deserve to look amazing. Like a goddess. Like someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to go after it. You deserve someone who treats you like a queen. Not someone who cancels on you at the last minute.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. There was a tenderness in his voice that was surprising, almost protective. You hadn’t expected it from the usually flirty Jaemin.

“You really think so?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Jaemin’s eyes softened as he nodded, the teasing grin replaced with something more genuine. “Of course. And maybe, if you’re open to it, I could be that someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was a simple comment, but coming from him, it hit differently. He’d always been a flirt, but this was more... earnest. Your mind raced, trying to process the idea of Jaemin in a different light—someone more than just your nail tech, more than just a flirt.

“Well,” you said, trying to regain your composure, “I guess I could think about it. But you know, you might be too much of a heartbreaker for me.”

Jaemin smirked, though you noticed a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “A heartbreaker, huh? I’ll have to change that then.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the way Jaemin spoke—so sure, so confident. But it wasn’t just about the nails anymore. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, the way he made you believe in yourself again. Maybe it was his words, or maybe it was just the way he looked at you. Either way, you were starting to feel something you hadn’t expected to feel—something that had nothing to do with the revenge set you came in for.

Jaemin continued working in silence for a while, his fingers moving skillfully over your nails as he carefully applied the dark red polish. The deep shade shimmered in the light, the perfect base for the black accents he added next, followed by delicate strokes of gold glitter. With every layer, you felt a sense of anticipation building within you. Jaemin was right—this wasn’t just about nails. It was about making a statement. About owning your story.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Jaemin pulled back, admiring his work. He was silent for a moment, taking in the way the deep red shimmered in the light, how the black accents were bold but not overbearing, and the gold glitter that gave it that final touch of elegance. It didn’t take long before you were admiring your hands too, completely in awe of the intricate design.

Jaemin stepped back and let out a low whistle, clearly proud of his work. “Look at you, all set for revenge. Those are some killer nails. What do you think?”

You gazed at your nails again, unable to hide your satisfaction. The colors were bold and dramatic, a mixture of deep reds, blacks, and gold accents that shimmered under the light. It was the perfect blend of sexy, fierce, and unapologetic. They weren’t just nails - they were a declaration. Exactly what you needed. “I love them,” you said, your voice full of awe. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "You really know how to make a girl feel like a queen."

"You are a queen, babe," Jaemin said, his voice sincere and warm. "And I’m just here to help you remember that."

You swallowed, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. There was no denying that Jaemin had this effect on you, this way of making you feel more than you were—more than what you had let yourself believe. You had come in here for a set of nails, but what you were walking away with was something far more valuable: a reminder of your own strength, your own beauty, your own power.

Jaemin’s grin returned, now more playful. “Told you I’ve got skills. Now, about that date...”

You took a deep breath, but you couldn’t resist the idea of Jaemin’s proposal. “Fine,” you said, deciding to give in. “Let’s go.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up, and without another word, he led you out of the salon. As you both stepped out into the cool evening air, Jaemin gave you a sly look. “You know, I’m thinking somewhere a little fancy. Something that’ll make your ex want to crawl out of his hole.”

You laughed, feeling a rush of excitement. “Oh, I’m so ready for this.”

The drive to the rooftop bar was short, but the anticipation was almost unbearable. Jaemin kept glancing at you, his eyes glinting with mischief.

When you arrived, the night sky stretched above you, the city lights twinkling like stars. The rooftop was chic and intimate, the perfect place to be seen and not noticed—if you wanted. But tonight, you were ready to be noticed. Ready to show your ex exactly what he’d lost. And Jaemin? He seemed like the perfect companion for your revenge.

He led you to a cozy corner with a view of the skyline. “This is our spot for the night,” he said, a little too smug for your liking. But you didn’t mind. There was something magnetic about him tonight, something that made you feel more alive than you had in weeks.

As Jaemin ordered the drinks, you couldn’t help but feel the chemistry between you both intensify. He’d been your nail tech, your confidant, and your flirtatious companion. But tonight, it felt like there was more to him. And maybe more to you than just the need for revenge.

The drinks arrived, and the conversation flowed easily—banter, laughter, and teasing—until Jaemin leaned in closer. “So... do you think he’s watching?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sure he is. He’s probably stalking my social media.”

Jaemin smirked, his hand grazing yours in a deliberate, slow motion. “Well, if he’s watching, I’m glad he’s seeing you with someone who knows how to treat you right.”

You didn’t know what surprised you more: the fact that Jaemin was openly admitting he was interested or the fact that you didn’t mind at all.

The night wore on, filled with laughter, drinks, and quiet moments of connection that were more intimate than you had expected. By the time you left, the first hint of dawn was breaking, casting a soft glow over the city.

Jaemin walked you to your car, his presence a comforting, warm contrast to the chilly air. “So, how’d it feel? Making him jealous?” Jaemin asked, his voice low and soft.

You smiled up at him, feeling content. “It felt... good. But honestly, I’m glad I came out with you.”

Jaemin’s smile softened, and for the first time tonight, there was no teasing in his eyes—just a quiet sincerity. “Maybe next time, it won’t be about revenge.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you realized just how much you were looking forward to what came next.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

And for the first time, you didn’t mind the idea of having someone like Jaemin in your life—revenge or not.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form

@ credits┆big thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta & proof reading ☆彡

❀ a/n┆ yes, this is real. I am finally writing about Jaemin so I hope you like it

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts, @hisnowbie2

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip" 🎀 ⋅ ˚✮

[thezombieprostitute]

Nurse Heartthrob

Summary: Your son is in the hospital and his nurse makes sure to take care of him and you.

Warnings: Ex-boyfriend angst, Hospital setting, Sick child. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~2.5k

As always, many thanks to @bigtreefest for her help with the medical stuff!

It's a phone call no parent ever wants to get. Your son, Val, had passed out on the playground and they were rushing him to the hospital. You let your boss know what was happening and drove out to the emergency room where the school said they'd sent him. Dr. Rogers was very reassuring about everything but insisted Val get admitted to pediatrics.

Given your son's medical history you were quick to agree. Val had been diagnosed with Long QT Syndrome just a few months after he was born. That was, apparently, the final straw for your ex-boyfriend, claiming he couldn't handle the responsibility of taking care of a sick child. Never mind that having a kid was his idea to begin with. Never mind that you'd already been doing most of the work. He left the two of you and, last you'd heard, he'd been hitting up younger women at the same bar where he'd met you.

For now, though, you had to focus on your son. The pediatrics nurse, Jake, was incredible. He had Val smiling and feeling at ease in minutes while also putting you at ease with his competency. Watching your baby getting IVs, shots, blood draws never got easier but, thankfully, Jake was proficient and you know Val's not hurting more needed. The doctor comes in, asking the usual questions. You always keep a folder of Val's medical history, always updating it with each appointment.

She looks over everything and finally says, "I agree Val should stay in the hospital for a bit but we don't have room in pediatrics. Thankfully there are a few open beds in cardiology and that'll make it easier to get Val the tests he needs."

You nod in understanding and the doctor gives Jake the go-ahead.

As he starts prepping the bed to move you ask, "how long do you think until someone takes us to cardiology?"

"I'm taking you now," he smiles.

"Aren't..aren't there designated nurses? Techs? Who move the beds between departments?"

"Normally, yes," Jake nods. "But my wife works in cardiology so they let me escort patients there so I can get a few minutes with her."

"That's sweet," Val pipes up. His voice is tired, weak, and it breaks your heart.

"It really is," you agree. You stuff down the jealousy you feel. It's clear Jake loves his wife and you really wish you had that for yourself.

Jake makes conversation easy throughout the walk. Val tells him about his latest Lego creation and he gets almost cartoonishly animated, making you and Val smile.

You know you've reached the cardiology wing when Jake stands up and waves, "Dr. Wifey! Over here!"

One of the doctors stops what she's doing, her face beaming with happiness, and walks over.

Following her is one of the biggest nurses you've ever seen. He's got a buzz cut, a slight beard, and eyes that look like a clear blue sky in winter. But his build, the tattoo covered arms especially, is making your own heart flutter.

"Dr. Wifey" introduces herself to you with her actual name, though you're certain you'll always think of her as "Dr. Wifey." She asks the nurse, Curtis, to take over pushing the bed so Jake can get back to pediatrics. While she looks at Jake affectionately, get actions and tone are professional, for which you're grateful. As cute as they are together, you can only stomach so much sweetness. Less so during times like this.

You get the impression that Curtis feels the same with how he rolls his eyes a little. He smiles at you and Val, introducing himself before taking over moving the bed. He and Jake banter a little and you're not sure if they're actually friends, if they're trying to make things easier for you and Val, or both. You hope it's both.

"Okay, Jake, we've gotta get Val to his room and you gotta get back to work," Dr. Wifey says with a kiss.

"Later, Nurse Puppy," Curtis waves as he starts moving the bed.

"See ya, Nurse Heartthrob," Jake returns as he starts walking back.

While Val is giggling at the banter you see Curtis turn pink, making you not ask about the nickname. Truth be told, the way your own heart reacted to him, you're pretty sure you already know the source.

Along the way Dr. Wifey is looking over Val's chart and praising your detailed, organized folder. Her questions are so much more relevant than some of Val's other appointments. You don't have to repeat information and her follow up questions show she's actually listening. It's a nice change of pace from the doctors who never seem to believe anything you tell them.

She asks some questions directly to Val about what he was doing right before he passed out. He shakes his head and says he was just sitting around at recess. You sense there's something he's not saying and encourage him to tell the whole truth, that he's safe.

"How about we start you off with a nap?" Dr. Wifey suggests. "You've had a long, scary day and could probably use the rest."

"Yes, please," Val pouts.

"Okay," you nod. "You get some rest and I'll run home and get our hospital bags, okay? The ones with Legos?"

"Thanks, Mom," Val smiles. You smile back and say a quick goodbye before heading out.

As soon as you're out of hearing range, Curtis turns to Val, "so what were you really doing? Get into a fight with some of the other kids or something?"

Val hesitates and Dr. Wifey adds, "patient doctor confidentiality, Val. Anything you tell me is just between us."

"I tried playing kickball," he confesses. "I know I'm not supposed to. That I have be careful with my heart. But it looked like fun!"

Curtis feels his heart wrench at that. He just wants to be a kid, but because of some inherited disorder, he can't even run around.

"Why didn't you want to say anything in front of your mother?" Dr. Wifey follows up.

"Because I don't want her to get upset."

"Upset?" Curtis raises an eyebrow, immediately on guard for something horrible.

"She cries so much," Val tells whispers. "Sometimes, when she thinks I'm asleep, I'll hear her crying about wishing she could give me a normal life. I don't want her crying because I tried to play."

Curtis fights to keep himself under control. If the kickball comment wrenched his heart, this was a punch to the gut.

"She sounds like a good mom," Dr. Wifey chimes in. Curtis recognizes the emotion in her voice. Val only nods in response.

"She said the hospital bag included Legos?" Curtis chimes in.

"Yeah," Val smiles softly. "They're fun and...and normal. They help me play while not hurting my heart."

"They're definitely fun," Curtis agrees. "When you get them, can I play with them a little? I could use the diversion during my shift."

Val's smile widens, "yeah. That sounds good."

As you park in the hospital parking lot for the second time that day, you take a minute to steady yourself. You know the nap suggestion was a ploy so they could ask Val questions without having you answer for him. Normally they wait until they start doing tests but Val probably could use the rest. Maybe it was so the doctor could get some more time to look over Val's history and not duplicate any needless tests. You only hope Val finally told them something so they can take care of him properly. It's killing you that Val thinks he needs to keep secrets from you, but you suppose it's part of what happens as kids get older.

You'd been so distracted on your way last time you'd forgotten to make note of the directions to Val's bed, so you stopped at the Nurses' Station.

"Oh, Val's your kid!" Teresa, the nurse, comments. "He's such a sweetie!"

"Thank you," you smile.

"He and Nurse Heartthrob have become fast friends, too."

"Nurse Heartthrob?" Though you'd heard the nickname before, you thought it was between Curtis and Jake.

"We call him that because his appearance always makes the patients' heart rates spike," she chuckles. "He's quite the looker. Have you seen those arms?"

"I have," you half smile. "Trying not to, though. Guy that looks like him has to have a partner or something already."

She sighs, "I know. As far as we can tell he's single, but no one knows for certain. He just says he doesn't date coworkers which, honestly, don't blame him. A few girls were tempted to switch to other parts of the hospital."

That makes you chuckle. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one who's got trouble getting a date with a hottie."

"As much as I'm enjoying the compliments," Curtis's voice interrupts you, "how about I lead you to Val's room?"

Teresa's eyes widen almost as much as yours. You cough from surprise, your face heated with embarrassment. Who knew such a large man could move so quietly? Or maybe you're just that tired.

When you get your bearings you turn to Curtis, "yes, please. Thank you." When you're far enough away from the Nurses' Station you apologize. "I'm sorry about that conversation. I...should have been more respectful."

Curtis shakes his head, "not the first time I've heard something like it. Probably won't be the last."

"Still, I feel like I should be past the whole high school thing."

"Lotta people should be but aren't. You get used to it, especially in a hospital."

"I suppose people who work your kind of job do need whatever outlets they can get."

Curtis nods. "For a lot of nurses it's the gossip, the trash tv. Other times it's meditation or yoga. Stuff you don't have to think about. Lets you keep your mental energy for the patients."

"Can I ask what your outlet is?"

"Only if I can ask you a question about you and Val."

"Sure."

Curtis stops walking and leans in, conspiratorially. "My outlet is junk food. It means I have to spend a ton of time in the gym, but I'm addicted to those thousand-plus-calorie snacks and fast food. It's food I don't have to cook, don't have to worry about clean up, and it gives me the energy I need for the day."

"I can relate," you nod, smiling. "With Val's health we always have to be careful with what we eat but sometimes I'll treat myself to something on my way to work."

Curtis smiles and you feel your heart speed up. "I'm glad you treat yourself from time to time. From what Val's told us, you work really hard to take care of him."

Your smile drops, "he's my world. Such a good kid who never asked for any of this."

"But that also leads me to my question, what's the story behind Val's...Y chromosome contributor?"

"I gotta remember that one," you snort. "Last I heard, the contributor is at a bar he's way too old for hitting on women who are way too young. He swore up and down that having a kid would be great for us, that it was his life's dream to have a child. Then, when Val was diagnosed, he bailed saying he couldn't handle the pressure or something."

"Well that's bullshit," Curtis scoffs. "How much did you tell Val?"

"I told Val his 'dad' is a liar who doesn't deserve us. That he lied about being faithful to the two of us. It's enough of the truth without Val needing to worry about his health being the reason he doesn't have a dad like so many other kids."

"Your secret is safe with me," Curtis says in such a way that you believe him.

"Thank you."

"By the way, you have two hospital bags for Val? Is one of them just for his toys or something?"

"One of them is for me," you explain. "I still need to work, but I can spend all my non-work time here with him. Got myself some toiletries, a phone charger for my books, a couple changes of clothing, all that."

Curtis just nods, silently wishing more patients had someone willing to stick around for them.

When you get to Val's bed he's sleeping soundly. You're careful to get things settled so that you don't wake him. You put his latest Lego creation on the patient table so he can see it when he wakes up. You called his school while you were getting the bags and they promised to have materials for you so you can keep up his lessons.

Throughout the week, every time Curtis arrives to work, he makes sure to get you a coffee. He says it's the free stuff from the break room. You have no idea he's buying you the better stuff from the cafe and pouring it into one of the generic cups from the coffee dispenser. Some of his coworkers give him questioning looks but he pretends he doesn't see; he's not entirely sure why he's doing it either.

Sometimes when you get to the hospital after work, you'll catch Curtis and Val playing with his Legos. It warms your heart to see Val smile and laugh so much. Even when he sleeps, he's smiling. It makes you wonder if you should try getting back into dating, giving Val someone else who cares for him. Giving yourself someone who cares for you. You're not sure anyone could compare to Curtis, but that's not really a fair comparison to begin with. It's his job to be caring and supporting. To check in on you and Val. Besides, someone like him can do much better than a single mother with a sick kid.

The morning before Val gets released to go home, you go for a drive to the nearest McDonald's and order some of the worst sounding foods you see.

Back at the hospital, you spot Curtis and hand him the bag. "Just a small thank you for taking care of me and Val so much."

Curtis feels his mouth watering at the smell of the food. It's such a big bag, too! He smiles, "any time. And, uh, if it's not too forward, can I give you my number? In case you or Val need some help?"

Your eyes soften and Curtis feels his heart lurch, worried he overstepped. "I can't ask that of you, Curtis. You have such a taxing job already. You don't need to work outside of the hospital, too."

"I wouldn't consider it work," he tells you. "I'd consider it...getting to know someone better? Someone I'm...I'm interested in getting to know better?"

"Oh? Oh!" you exclaim as your eyes widen. "You...you really mean that?"

His eyes soften as he smiles. "Yeah, I mean it."

"Thank you, Curtis. I'm looking forward to calling you."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

It's been three years since you last saw Eddie Munson. It felt like a lifetime had passed but it's not like you could ever really forget him and for a long time you tried, you really did.

And now he was right here in the same room as you. Shit...

No one really forgets their first love or their first heartbreak... you knew that better than anyone.

At school you and Eddie were in different circles, he was the guy who everyone deemed chaotic, a little dangerous and wild, the guy who girls like you should stay away from. Meanwhile you were best friends with Chrissy, a straight A student. Semi popular, a good girl.

Maybe if you had heeded that advice you would have saved yourself the heartbreak.

When Eddie sought you out you were intrigued, fascinated at the way he could be so loud, intense and a thorn in Jason Carver's side one minute to being sweet and gentlemanly, courteous and kind the next.

You fell for him hard despite your friends warnings that he was a "Dangerous" or "up to something". He was romantic with you, protective, chivalrous and sweet, both of you smitten from the start.

Eddie being described as dangerous made you giggle because once you really got to know him and saw the soft centre inside his hard shell it became ridiculous to you that people could think that.

Because Eddie wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone you...

Until you were proven oh so wrong and by Jason Carver of all people. Jason who has heard a conversation between Eddie and his friend Gareth, the two of them talking about how Eddie initially approached you to get close to Chrissy because he had a crush on her.

Jason took great delight in telling you that in front of the whole cafeteria after Eddie had riled him up one too many times. At that point Eddie had paled and even though you wished deep in your heart that what Jason was saying was a load of bullshit, you knew it wasn't.

That's when your heart broke, Eddie never really loved you did he? He wanted Chrissy all along. Perfect, sweet Chrissy. Your best friend.

You were dimly aware of Chrissy yelling at Jason and at Eddie, calling him an asshole and telling him to stay away from you. To be honest you fled before Eddie threw the first punch at Jason's smug face.

When you holed yourself up inside the girls locker room and finally let yourself break down that's when Eddie caught up to you or at least he tried to. You were sat on the floor, back against the door and heaving great sobs while Eddie desperately tried to talk to you.

"Please, please let me in princess. It's not... I had a stupid crush on Chrissy when we started talking but it meant nothing"

"You only started speaking to me because I'm Chrissy's best friend and you thought you had an in Eddie! Don't lie now. You're just pissed you got caught out" you could hear his sobs mingling with yours through the door and it broke your heart even more.

"No please baby, I love you okay? I fell in love with you, Chrissy was a stupid crush and it didn't matter, it went away when we started getting close, please open the door" his tone is begging, urgent.

"No! You were just using me from the start. Leave me alone. I hate you Eddie Munson" you shake with tears and you hear his broken sobs, then Chrissy is there and she's yelling at him that he's done enough and to leave you alone.

After that Chrissy wouldn't let Eddie near you, she dumped Jason for publicly humiliating you and the two for you stuck together like glue. You could tell she felt guilty for being the catalyst to Eddie's plan but it wasn't her fault. It was Eddie's.

You didn't speak to Eddie again, he tried to talk to you but you could never face him, the love you had for him was still so deep at that point but the heartbreak eclipsed all of it.

Pretty soon after graduation Eddie left Hawkins and you and Chrissy went to college together, you had a few dates and one serious boyfriend since Eddie but it never felt the way you did with him and that fucking sucked.

Now Eddie was in the same room as you after all of this time. You're at Steve's homecoming party and he's chatting with Dustin and Steve, he's all gesturing widely, big brown eyes wide, no doubt in some passionate rant about something.

A tug of longing fills you. More than once you wonder if you should have let Eddie at least explain his side. Would it have made a difference? Probably not. You still would have been heartbroken and felt used. It would have opened up more wounds and pain.

Eddie's chocolate brown eyes meet yours across the room and his mouth forms into a little oh...it's cheesy as shit but it's like there's some sort of cosmic shift that the two of you can only feel and it pulls you towards each other.

Within seconds Eddie is beside you, gazing at you with softness and the fairness traces of nostalgia and...longing.

"Hey princess"

❤️

What would you do? Would you hear Eddie out? Would you after three years give him a second chance? There is still a lot of love there along with all that heartache... I'd be interested to know. I left this open ended but slightly hopeful as it was pretty much all angst and it hurt like hell to write.

This is what I get after binging angst stories at two am. Oh well... ❤️🫣

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: Chapter Six

How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: After saving a strange man from a fishbowl cage, you earn yourself a favor. When you cash in said favor, you don’t realize that you and the man aren’t on the same page on what you need from him.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Afab!Reader

Word Count: ~3.8k

Previous | Masterlist

You return home after visiting your parents and find yourself mentally exhausted and still reeling from your mothers attempts at convincing you to get pregnant. After a day at work you step into your apartment, the familiar scent of home a stark contrast to the tension of your parents' house. You kick off your shoes and sink into the couch, rubbing your temples. The weight of the evening lingers on your shoulders like an invisible shroud.

"Did you have a long day?" Morpheus' voice, velvety and deep, permeates the room as he materializes next to you. His presence, once comforting, now feels complicated.

"Understatement," you reply, forcing a smile. "I don't think my mom’s ever going to stop with the baby talk. Called me in during my lunch break to talk about Ob's when I get pregnant. Also provided some horrendous baby names which I am currently trying to erase from memory."

You notice the faintest twitch of Morpheus' eyebrow, a silent testament to his struggle with understanding the absurdity of mortal family dynamics. He crosses his arms, the dark fabric of his cloak shifting like a shadow in motion.

"I have witnessed the creation and destruction of entire worlds," he begins, his tone bordering on indignation, "yet I confess, I cannot fathom the human obsession with perpetuating their lineage at dinner tables."

You chuckle, despite the heaviness that sits in your chest. "Welcome to Earth, Lord Morpheus. Here we fret over lineage at dinner and argue about whose turn it is to do the dishes."

Morpheus considers your words for a moment, his expression contemplative. Then, in a tone so dry you almost miss the humor in it, he muses, "If the naming of offspring is such a grave matter, perhaps we should choose a name of great power. Something that commands respect and fear."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Like what?"

Morpheus tilts his head, as if sifting through centuries of names in his vast knowledge. "Erebus, Lord of Shadows."

You snort, barely restraining your laughter. "Erebus? Are we naming a baby or summoning an eldritch horror?"

He considers this with a slow nod. "Perhaps it is too ominous for a mortal child. What of Nyx?"

"Okay, now you're just naming your relatives," you accuse, pointing a finger at him. "If we’re going that route, I vote we name the kid Hypnos and just lean into the sleep theme."

Morpheus’s lips twitch in what might be the faintest hint of a smirk. "Hypnos would be fitting, though my brother may take issue with it."

You gasp dramatically. "What, he wouldn’t want the honor? Fine, then we should go all out. How about Sandman Junior?"

Morpheus gives you a long, unreadable look. Then, with an absolutely straight face, he murmurs, "Sanderson Morpheus the Third."

That’s it. You lose it. You double over, laughter bubbling out of you in uncontrollable waves. "Sanderson Morpheus the Third!" you wheeze. "That’s so bad. He’s either destined to be a lawyer or an ancient wizard."

Morpheus, watching your reaction with what could only be described as amusement (though it’s so subtle you almost miss it), adds, "If that is unacceptable, we could always embrace modern naming conventions. I have observed that mortals favor names inspired by celestial bodies." He pauses. "Starlord, perhaps?"

You nearly fall off the couch. "Did you just reference Guardians of the Galaxy?"

He remains impassive, but there’s a gleam in his dark eyes. "I am aware of many stories, beloved."

"You are impossible," you say, wiping at your eyes.

Morpheus inclines his head ever so slightly, as if acknowledging a great truth. "And yet, you find yourself endlessly entertained."

You shake your head, still chuckling. "Point made. We should obviously name our imaginary dream baby something sensible. Like… Bob."

Morpheus visibly recoils. "Bob?"

"Yeah," you tease. "Simple. Classic. Bob the Baby."

He blinks at you, clearly struggling. "I… fail to see the majesty in Bob."

"Not everything has to be majestic, your highness," you shoot back. "Sometimes a baby just wants to be a Bob."

Morpheus exhales softly, as if resigned to your nonsense. But after a moment, he murmurs, "Bob, Dream of Infants."

You burst into laughter so hard that your sides hurt, wiping at your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath. "Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that. Bob, Dream of Infants. That’s it. That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard."

Morpheus merely watches as your laughter winds down, his expression unreadable—but you swear there’s the ghost of amusement lingering at the corners of his lips. Certainly adoration you miss.

A comfortable silence follows, the kind that settles easily between two people who are getting used to each other’s presence. You lean back against the couch, exhaling through your nose, the exhaustion from the day creeping back in now that the moment of levity has passed.

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, studying you. "You seem weary."

"Yeah," you admit, rubbing your temples. "It’s been a long couple of days."

Morpheus nods solemnly, then hesitates. "Speaking of which," he glances toward your kitchen sink piled high with plates and glasses. "Shall we address that small mountain range crafted from porcelain?"

You groan dramatically, dropping your head back against the couch. "Ugh, I was really hoping you hadn’t noticed that."

Morpheus merely lifts an eyebrow.

With a sigh, you push yourself off the couch and head towards the kitchen. "Might as well get it over with."

As you roll up your sleeves and turn on the faucet, Morpheus appears beside you, examining a sponge as if it's an ancient relic. You squirt dish soap onto it and hand it over to him.

"It's simple," you explain. "Scrub and rinse."

Morpheus takes the sponge, dips it into the warm water, and approaches a plate with the concentration of an artist about to touch brush to canvas. You stifle a laugh as he scrubs with unnecessary vigor, bubbles flying everywhere.

"Perhaps not quite so... enthusiastically," you advise as a rogue bubble lands on your nose.

He pauses, looking at you with those endless eyes that have seen epochs pass. Then, surprisingly, a small smile tugs at his lips as he wipes away the bubble from your nose with an exaggeratedly gentle touch.

"Apologies," he says solemnly, but there's a playful glint in his eye. "I was merely ensuring that no speck of matter would dare remain upon our dishware."

For a moment, as you rinse off a now sparkling clean plate, there's an easy silence filled only by the sound of running water and clinking dishes. You find yourself watching Morpheus handle each piece of cutlery with a kind of grace that probably hasn't been seen in a kitchen ever before.

You dry your hands on a towel and glance at Morpheus who looks back at you expectantly.

"Now what?" he asks. Now what? Your still wondering why he is here, visiting you with such diligence!

"You've been a great help," you tell Morpheus, your hands still damp from the dish washing. "I'm going to take a shower now. I'll see you in The Dreaming tonight?"

Morpheus nods, his eyes lingering on you with an intensity that makes your heart skip. "Of course, beloved. Rest well."

The word 'beloved' echoes in your ears, and you do a double take, your mouth opening slightly to question him on it. But when you turn around, he's already gone, leaving nothing but the faintest whisper of his presence and the lingering scent of otherworldliness.

You stand there for a moment, puzzled and oddly flustered by the endearment. Shaking your head, you decide to push those thoughts aside for now. There's enough to process without diving into what Morpheus might or might not mean by his words.

With a deep breath, you head toward the bathroom for a much-needed shower and some time to clear your head.

Steam rises as you step into the shower, the hot water cascading over your tired muscles, washing away the day's stress. You close your eyes and let the warmth envelop you, hoping it will also clear your mind. But thoughts of Morpheus linger, his enigmatic presence haunting your thoughts.

Beloved. The word keeps echoing in your head. What does he mean by that? Could he actually feel something for you beyond the ruse?

You shake your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. You scrub shampoo into your hair and rinse it out, letting the mundane action ground you. After a while, you finish up and step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel.

As you walk into your bedroom, you notice a change in the atmosphere. The air feels different, charged with a faint energy that prickles at your skin. You pause, scanning the room for any sign of Morpheus. But it's empty.

You sigh, slipping into your pajamas and brushing out your damp hair. The weight of everything still presses on you—the visit to your parents, the fake marriage that's starting to feel too real, and Morpheus's increasing presence in both your waking life and dreams.

Climbing into bed, you pull the covers up and close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep. The familiar tug of The Dreaming soon takes hold, pulling you into its surreal embrace.

When you open your eyes again, you're standing in Morpheus's palace, its towering spires and intricate architecture casting long shadows under a moonlit sky. The Gryphon, Wyvern, and Hippogryph at the gate nod as you pass by.

You weave through the ethereal corridors of the palace, your feet silent on the dream-stone floor. The towering bookshelves of Lucienne's library loom ahead, their endless spines brimming with titles from every conceivable reality. You push open the carved door, its hinges singing a soft lullaby as it swings.

"Lucienne?" Your voice seems to both echo and be absorbed by the vast collection of knowledge. "I need to talk to you."

The librarian appears from behind a shelf, her calm demeanor a balm to your frazzled nerves. She tilts her head, an unspoken invitation to speak.

"Morpheus, he..." You pause, searching for words that won't make you sound completely out of your mind. "He's acting like we're truly married. Not just for show, but for real. And I don’t know why or how to—"

Before you can finish, the telltale flutter of wings signals Matthew’s arrival. He swoops in through an open window, perching dramatically atop a nearby bookshelf. His dark eyes gleam with mischief as he caws,

"Trouble in paradise?"

You let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing your temples. "He calls me 'beloved.' He's always around, even when we’re not supposed to be playing our parts. He even helped me wash my dishes."

Matthew pauses, his head tilting so far to the side that for a second, you worry he might topple over.

"And?" he asks expectantly.

You blink. "And? What do you mean and? That’s weird, right?"

Matthew scoffs, fluttering down to land closer to you. "Weird? Oh no, no, sweetheart. You’re his wife."

You stare at him. "I’m his what now?"

Matthew fluffs his feathers as if he can’t believe he has to spell this out for you. "His wife," he repeats slowly, "Yeah. Ever since you two started this whole charade, he’s been different. More… I dunno, present. Like he’s actually here, and not just floating around all moody and brooding like some existential poetry collection. Which, for the record, is a huge improvement."

Your arms cross tightly over your chest, your dream-formed gown rustling with the motion. "But it’s all pretend. A trick to convince my mom to stop her matchmaking nonsense."

Lucienne steps closer, her eyes gentle. "Morpheus doesn’t pretend," she says, her words carrying a gravity that makes your stomach drop. "His realm is one of truth woven in allegory and myth. If he acts as your husband, in his heart, he believes it to be so."

Your mouth goes dry. The implications of her words hit you like a rogue wave, pulling you under before you can catch your breath.

"But I never wanted this," you whisper, the weight of unintentional deception pressing heavy on your chest. "It was just supposed to be a cover story."

Matthew gives a low whistle, hopping onto a stack of books. "Oh yeah, sure. Just a harmless little fib. No big deal. Just a tiny white lie to the literal King of Dreams—the guy who wrote the book on oaths, meanings, and eternal devotion. What could possibly go wrong?"

Lucienne nods in agreement. "And once he is committed to something..." She trails off, leaving the sentence to hang ominously in the air.

You swallow hard, feeling the truth settle uncomfortably in your bones. Morpheus believes himself bound to you in earnest.

Your mind races as you recall the past few days—his steady presence, the way his gaze lingered on you, the casual yet absolute way he called you beloved. And then—

"Oh my god," you whisper in horror, fresh embarrassment burning its way up your neck. "We joked about baby names."

Matthew, who had just been preening himself, freezes mid-motion before his head whips around to look at you.

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You and Morpheus talked baby names?" Matthew squawks, hopping in place with a ruffle of feathers.

You glance down at your ring finger, where the bands Morpheus had given you continue to appear without fail, no matter how many times you try to remove them. “Maybe…”

Matthew practically cackles, flapping his wings so hard he nearly topples off his perch. "Oh, this is rich! What’d you guys settle on? 'Little Prince of Eternal Brooding'? 'His Majesty, Lord of Nap Time'?"

Despite yourself, you snort. "More like ‘Hypnos’ and ‘Starlord’. My mom had some truly awful suggestions."

Matthew caws another laugh, his feathers fluffing up in amusement. "Might as well name them after natural disasters with parents like you two."

Lucienne raises an eyebrow but remains silent, her gaze flicking between you and the raven with a knowing look.

Matthew isn’t finished. He hops from one foot to the other, clearly loving every second of your suffering. "At least he didn’t suggest naming them after his siblings. Can you imagine? 'Come here, little Despair! Be nice to your brother, Ruin! Oh, and you—Destruction—stop knocking over the furniture!'"

You bury your face in your hands with a groan. "Matthew, please."

He flaps his wings and lands beside you with a dramatic sigh. "Hey, I’m just sayin’, if you keep this up, you’re gonna have half of The Dreaming planning a royal nursery. You might wanna have an actual chat with the guy before you wake up and find yourself at a baby shower thrown by a bunch of nightmares."

Lucienne clears her throat delicately. "It would be wise to clarify your intentions with Morpheus. If he considers this bond to be real, then you must decide what that means for you."

Matthew nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, before we’re all calling you Queen of the Dreaming and sending out official royal baby announcements."

You groan again, throwing your head back. "I need to get some air."

Matthew cackles. "Oh, don’t worry, beloved," he croons, absolutely laying it on thick. "Morpheus is probably already planning out the wedding reception in his head."

You send a glare his way, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the smuggest raven in existence.

Matthew isn’t finished. He hops from one foot to the other, clearly reveling in your mounting panic. "So, just to clarify—you two are already deep into the honeymoon phase, huh? Sharing domestic chores, throwing around baby names, looking all 'hopelessly intertwined by fate' in the library."

You point an accusatory finger at him. "It was one joke, Matthew."

"Oh, sure. One little joke that just so happens to fit into the 'happily married' storyline you two have been weaving. Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I think you might actually be in a relationship."

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. "No. No, this is still fixable. I just need to talk to him, set some boundaries, make sure we’re both on the same page."

Lucienne nods, ever the voice of reason. "That would be wise."

Matthew, however, has other ideas. "Or, hear me out—lean into it. The Dreaming loves a good romance arc. You’re already Dream’s beloved mortal consort. Might as well enjoy the perks."

You gape at him. "What perks?"

Matthew dramatically flaps a wing. "I dunno, poetic declarations of devotion? Nightmares that’ll personally torment anyone who crosses you? Maybe a personal moonlit library where he recites love sonnets in that velvety broody voice of his?"

You roll your eyes, but the thought lingers in your mind longer than it should.

Lucienne clears her throat, bringing the conversation back to reality. "If you are uncertain, then clarity must be sought. Morpheus will not deceive you, but you must decide if this bond is something you truly wish to break."

The weight of her words settles over you. Break it? That feels… excessive. You don’t even know what it is yet. Worry spreads across your face and you bite your lip. You don’t know what to do!

"Alright, enough with the gloom," Matthew says, shaking his head as if to clear away any lingering seriousness. "Let's focus on the now. So, you're married to Dream of the Endless. Big deal! People have been in weirder relationships."

"Matthew, he's an Endless," you say, exasperation seeping into your voice. "It's not like we can just go to couples therapy and work this out."

Matthew tilts his head, a sly grin forming on his beak. "Why not? There's gotta be a dream therapist somewhere in this realm. Probably someone with a name like 'Dr. Freudstien' or 'Sigmund Dreamberg.'"

You laugh despite the situation, the absurdity of the idea cutting through the tension. "Great, I'll book an appointment and we can discuss our dream baby names in a safe, non-judgmental environment."

Lucienne clears her throat, bringing the conversation back on track. "Perhaps a more immediate approach would be to speak with Morpheus directly," she suggests, her tone gentle but firm.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Matthew mutters, fluttering his wings. "The boss isn't exactly Mr. Open Communication."

You sigh, knowing he's right. Morpheus isn't one for heart-to-hearts or laying his feelings bare. He's more likely to speak in riddles and metaphors than give you a straightforward answer.

"Okay," you say, squaring your shoulders. "I'll talk to him. But if he starts reciting poetry about the moon and stars, I really am blaming both of you."

Matthew caws another laugh. "Deal! Just make sure to get it on record; I could use some new material for my stand-up routine."

With a final nod from Lucienne and an encouraging flap of wings from Matthew, you leave the library and make your way through the palace corridors. The path seems longer tonight, as if The Dreaming itself is aware of the conversation you're about to have.

Finally, you reach Morpheus's throne room. The massive doors creak open as if they too are reluctant to let you in. You step inside, finding Morpheus seated on his dark throne, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the ether.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you step into the throne room. Morpheus looks up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. His expression is unreadable, a blend of ancient wisdom and enigmatic curiosity.

"Morpheus," you start, your voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. "We need to talk."

He rises from his throne with a fluid grace, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. "Of course, beloved. What troubles you?"

The endearment sends a shiver down your spine, but you push past it, focusing on the task at hand.

"Okay, so here's the thing," you say, words tumbling out in a rush. "I only needed you to pretend to be my husband for the weekend. You know, to get my mom off my back about getting married. I didn't realize you'd take it as an actual commitment."

Morpheus tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Pretend?"

"Yes, pretend," you repeat, gesturing wildly with your hands. "Like a roleplay. A temporary arrangement. Not... not an eternal bond or whatever."

He looks genuinely puzzled for a moment before a flicker of realization crosses his face. "You did not wish for our union to be genuine?"

"No!" you exclaim, then soften your tone when you see the hurt flicker in his eyes. "I mean, no, not initially. But... now I actually like having you around." You pause, searching for the right words. "You're not as bad as I thought you'd be and then the whole baby talk and you defending me against my mother's pushiness..."

Morpheus's expression shifts from confusion to something resembling hope. "You have grown fond of me?"

"Uh," Your tongue seems to ties itself up and you have to swallow. “Yes? I don't really know what I am doing but I do know that I like spending time with you, in this realm and the waking world. I'm just— a little overwhelmed."

Morpheus steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "I understand now," he says, his voice a soft murmur that carries the weight of ancient knowledge. "You did not intend for this to be permanent. But your feelings have changed."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. "Yeah, I guess they have. But I need to know where you stand in all of this. Are we... Are we actually married in your eyes?"

Morpheus's expression softens, a rare vulnerability showing through his usually stoic facade. "In my realm, intentions and words hold great power. When you declared me as your husband, it became a truth within The Dreaming. But if this is not what you desire—"

"I didn't say that," you interrupt, surprising yourself with the urgency in your voice. "I just need to understand what this means for both of us."

He takes another step forward, his presence enveloping you like a comforting shadow. "It means that I am bound to you as deeply as the night is to the stars. It means that I will protect you, cherish you, and be by your side through every dream and waking moment."

Your heart pounds in your chest at his words, the sincerity in them undeniable. "That sounds... intense."

Morpheus's lips curve into a small smile, a rare sight that makes your breath catch. "It is the nature of my existence to be intense. But I will strive to make this union one of mutual respect and understanding." You let out a breath, feeling slightly more relieved now that things were clear.

"Great," you say before chewing your lip and giving him a playful smile. "But if my mom asks about baby names again, we're telling her 'Sanderson Morpheus the Third' is totally on the table."

Morpheus raises an eyebrow but nods solemnly. "Agreed."

Date Published: 2/15/25

Last Edit: 2/15/25

Previous | Masterlist

[pumpkinowl13]

My opinion (& honest critique) of Poppy Playtime Chapter 4

Okay hi. First things first, I have been a fan of Poppy Playtime since Chapter 1 came out. I was hooked from Chapter 1, thought Chapter 2 was just fantastic, and was absolutely blown away by how good Chapter 3 was.

And then ... Chapter 4 happened.

I'm not gonna act like it was completely irredeemable, because it had parts that I really really liked- I thought Doey was awesome & the puzzles were by far the most innovative yet. I think the issue for me is that it just didn't feel like a Poppy Playtime game, for multiple different reasons.

My overall summary if you CBA to read everything is that I wish they had just committed to one plot line, one antagonist, one setting and one plot twist: Quality over Quantity. Because of this, it just didn't feel like a proper chapter, and instead like a mishmash of concepts.

Read on for my criticism, & if you have any opinions on it or corrections I'd be happy to read them :))

The first big thing for me

is that it didn't feel like it had an antagonist.

Or rather, it felt like it had three potential antagonists (Doey, The Doctor and Yarnaby) that they couldn't decide between and just shoved all three together, at the expense of the quality of each character.

The first three games it felt clear who the antagonist was- giving each chapter it's own unique story. However, the inclusion of the prototype also added to a larger, cohesive plot which each chapter followed, giving each of them a purpose. However, in Chapter 4... who was the antagonist?

Let's talk potential antagonists for Chapter 4 (& why none of them worked...)

I know what you're gonna say. Doey. And Doey was certainly the main character of this chapter, but if he's the antagonist, then he falls flat.

Part of the charm of the games was the feeling of not knowing what was going on. The isolation in the huge factory, knowing that there was someone after us, but not knowing where they were or what they were doing - like when Huggy dissapears in Ch1, or the occasional limb from Mommy or Catnap's tail snaking down from the ceiling. This makes our imagination run wild - being left alone with the knowledge that we are not alone is such a divine way of building tension.

But if Doey was meant to be the antagonist, then like ... none of this beautiful tension building can happen at all. He's pretty consistently by our side after we meet him, and we immediately learn his entire backstory from the tapes. This feels like the establishment of a new friend, rather than an antag. So then like ... why did they make him start attacking us and have him be the big boss fight? Why didn't he just stay a friend for the rest of the series, or save that boss fight for later games? Instead he randomly turns on us, which just felt so forced. Why did he need to be the big disney villain plot twist? I feel like Doey should have stayed a friend to us, along with Kissy & Poppy. While his Boss fight was cool for lore I guess, we also could have just seen the transformation in another context (like fighting an actual antagonist with us) or just hearing it on a VHS tape (like we did when he met his parents). And then to make matters worse, they just kill him off.

So then, maybe the Doctor is the antagonist. But again, this annoys me. The Doctor is an awesome character, don't get me wrong, but as a main antagonist... hmm. I'm not so sure. Firstly, he just doesn't visually fit with the style of the other antagonists. He's not a toy - he's literally just a computer. Visually, I feel like he just didn't really fit Chapter 4 just yet. I really wish they had just saved him for Chapter 5 (when presumably we meet the prototype & the tone will be much darker) Another issue with him as an antagonist is he didn't really build up any tension either, constantly yapping to us through the security cameras - i get that he's always watching us, but it could have been much more subtle (like how they did it with Catnap).

So I think that the strongest candidate is probably Yarnaby. I mean firstly, visually, Yarnaby fits with the other antagonists. I saw Yarnaby's design and actually got excited about it. he's awesome and that mouth opening thing!!! I mean, Wow! Literally the best designed character in this Chapter.

But then why why why did they not even bother to make him the main antagonist!!!!! He constantly stalks us throughout the whole game, he builds up enough tension... I mean like, they could have done so much with Yarnaby. But no, they just kill him off. Right after introducing him. I wish we had just focused on Yarnaby, and not all these other characters.

I mean, reading these files, there is such a missed opportunity here. I personally think they should have made the main antagonist Yarnaby, he stalks us the entire game. And then, they could have played into this “domesticated dog or cat” thing and maybe had us domesticate Yarnaby? And that could have been the big chapter plot twist- the player then going in to defeat the prototype with Yarnaby and Doey on our side...? Or if they didn't want to do that, why make his death so lame?? Why not cut him in half or something, it feels so obvious!! and then to have the twist be that The Doctor actually owns Yarnaby and he's pissed and that's the cliff hanger we leave Chapter 4 on!!!? Like SO MUCH POTENTIAL!!!!

But no, instead of just committing to one character, they decided to waste three. Justice for all three semi antags in this chapter:(

Up next, why I think the setting could have been much better. Stay tuneddd

[umikawa]

a/n: omg ANOTHER senku fic?? Sedate me. I went off topic in this fic and didn’t even try to redeem myself so 🙏 writing Stanley next, wish me luck

senku ishigami x gn!reader | no warnings, set at the end of the village origins arc. 970 wc. Lot of dialogue cause that’s just how I roll (｀_´)ゞ

Senku was tired. 

Thoughts raced in his mind at a mile a minute, never-ending and constantly sprouting. On paper, he was sure it’d mimic the nervous system. Each thought that crossed his mind bothered him to no bounds, leading him to sleepless nights where he would devise plans for any situation that could happen. 

Like how to handle animal attacks like the one with Taiju in the beginning. What to do if there were (somehow) a fish shortage. What the plan was if an unknown settlement comes suddenly to raid the village. What to do if the Tsukasa empire decides to take action first…

For once (more than he’d admit), thinking made his head hurt. A groan leaves his lips as he holds his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe himself. 

“Another late night?” 

He turns around slowly, watching with parted lips as you approach him, a tray with two steaming cups in your hands. “Yeah.” Is all that he can come up with, mouth running dry. He can’t remember the last time he stopped to have a drink.

“You know, for someone as knowledgeable as you, I’d hoped you know that sleeping can be very beneficial to your health.” Senku chuckles at your words, gratefully taking the cup of tea from your hands. “What’s got you so worked up?” 

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, taking a long sip to mask his uncertainty. “I'm just thinking about how this whole thing will play out.” It’s not a lie; he is worried about how everything will go, but it isn’t what he hoped to say. Though, he isn’t too sure what he wanted to say in the first place. 

You hum, leaning against the edge of his workbench. Your eyes trail over the mess of scribbles on the papers in front of him to the notable bags under his eyes. “Have faith,” Senku nearly rolls his eyes. “Believe in your comrades, and everything will fall into place.” 

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the feeling of your hand holding onto his chin, blinking up at you with wide eyes as you tilt his chin. “You should rest, Senku. A general can’t lead an army with only a wink of sleep.”

He laughs to himself, shutting his eyes as he pulls away from your warm touch. “I know.” Is all he responds with. He knows you're right, but he goes back to the drawing board anyway, ignoring the irregular beating in his chest. “You can go.” 

His tone held no malice or annoyance at the blatant dismissal, his words gentle as he cast a glance your way. You’d walked away from the table, standing behind him now, likely to aid him in his next endeavor. 

Once again, Senku jolts at the feeling of your touch. Your arms wrap around his waist from behind, your head pressed in the space between his shoulder blades, and your fingers clutch the fabric of his tunic. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. Voice strained to keep himself from shouting or worse– trembling.

“Come to bed, Senku.” You’d whispered, pulling on his tunic gently. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as the slightest bit of annoyance builds up. 

Not with you, with himself for ignoring his health to the point you were concerned. 

“Alright.” He sighs, turning around in your hold. You weaken your grip the slightest. Senku wonders if you thought he’d run away if otherwise. “Don’t worry, I won’t run.” 

“You’d better not, " you mumble, releasing him fully. Your hand slips into his, fingers intertwining in place. He felt like they were meant to fit together. Senku quirks a brow. “Just in case. Though I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to get very far with your… stamina.”

He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out of the lab. Twigs and dirt crunch under your steps as you approach his hut. His eyes trailed around the village, and a part of him was praying that no one was awake to see you and him together. 

Not that anything was wrong with that– it’d just be another annoyance he’d have to deal with. 

Senku blinks down at your intertwined hands. When was the last time he held hands with someone? Did he ever? A flash of Byakuya crosses his mind, and a smidge of sadness crosses his face at the thought–right, when they went to see fireworks. 

He figures the look was still etched on his face when you entered his hut. Your hand comes to his face, thumb brushing over his knitted brows. He ignores the touch, his eyes lifting to meet yours. 

Instead of asking him what was wrong, as he thought you would, you wordlessly pulled him into you, fingers carding into his hair and ruffling it around. He groans out a noise of protest, frowning at the wide smile on your face.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he says, rolling his eyes when you pinch his cheeks. “Ten billion percent.” You don’t say a word in response, only messing his hair up even more until it falls in front of his eyes. “You’re weird.”

You scoff at the insult, pinching his chin. “Yeah? And what are you, normal?” He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re the craziest guy in this village, Senku. I assure you.” He chuckles at your words, and only then does he realize what you’ve done for him. 

Tore him away from his work, successfully relieving him of his stress and calming his mind. 

Except his mind wasn’t calm, and a million thoughts swarmed his head the second he locked eyes with you again. Did you always make his heart race when you looked at him?

And when did you get so… pretty?

[bratbarzal]

Could you please do ⁵⁾ “i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.” with Nico?

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

“i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.” this also goes out to the anon who requested this exact line with meier sister reader bc it's where my brain immediately went when I saw this!!!! BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND!NICO NATION WE UP!!! RISE AND SHINE!!!

*this includes sexual references, but no actual smut.

"Stop watching me like that."

Nico sits at the top of the bed, the bed sheet only just covering his modesty as his legs sprawl out from beneath the covers. He has one arm stretched across the pillow you just vacated, and another scratching slowly at his stomach, where the soft patch of hair on his abdomen disappears under the flimsy strip of cotton.

He looks like sex personified, and he needs to give it a rest.

Laughter rumbles lowly from the depths of his chest, a sly smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes follow you - rushing around the room to retrieve the clothes he had torn from your body maybe an hour ago now. You hop back into your panties, and then your shorts, and it's as you're clipping your bra back on that he asks, "Like what?"

His tone is teasing, familiar, exactly the kind of flirty cadence that had lured you into his bed earlier today, in the first place - passing by a little too close for comfort with a hand on your hip, and lips to your ear, muttering how good your ass looked in your shorts before he planted a quick, light smack to it.

He knows what he's doing.

"Like you could go again," you huff, buttoning at the light, summery shirt you were wearing before as you look up at him.

"Maybe I could," he shrugs, straightening up in a way that makes the sheet slip dangerously low, an action that attracts your gaze like a high powered magnet, stuck on him until you can shake yourself out of it. "Maybe we should."

"No," you rattle your head, trying to claw back any kind of sense or dignity, diverting your attention in search of your sandals. "Not happening. I need to go shower. I smell like a combination of a sex den and you."

"And what's wrong with that?" he chuckles, "You use my stuff in the shower every time you come over, you wear my clothes when you leave, why's today any different?"

"Because we're on vacation with my brother, Nico," you huff, finding where you had kicked them off and they had slid toward his side of the bed. "He catches a whiff of you on me, on today of all days, and he'll throw you overboard the next time we're out on the boat."

"C'mon," he sighs, although that tempting smirk remains, and shuffles his legs over the side of the bed, the sheet slipping, forcing you to spin on your heels to avoid staring down the barrel of what you have no doubt is, once again, a loaded gun.

That man is insatiable.

You hear his laughter from behind you, along with footsteps that fall out of pattern for a brief second, and you're thankful when a large hand places itself on your upper arm to turn you, that he's at least wearing boxers now.

"We can't keep sneaking around forever, it's been long enough, don't you think?"

You feel your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you close, his assertive grip holding you in place with fingers now curved around the back of your waist, and you sigh - a big one, that despite the heaviness of it, does little to quell the anxiety swirling around your chest.

"I thought you wanted to wait until the season was finished," you frown, distinctly remembering how you felt after that conversation back in November - when your situation became a lot less casual, and Nico had officially asked you to be his girlfriend one morning when he had finally run out of other excuses for you not to leave his bed.

"I did," he muses, fingers pressing into your flesh and forcing you forward, until you're flat against him, and once again encompassed by his ever lasting warmth. "But now I'm tired of hiding. Just want to love on you, not just in private or when Timo isn't looking."

His actions mimic his words as his hands start to wander, and his lips press soft, lingering kisses in a trail from your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck.

You melt, as you always do, body feeling like putty that moulds to his touch and sticks to his fingers as he reels you back in.

"We can't hard launch to my brother on Valentines Day, Nico," you mumble, your resolve weakening by the second with every slight ministration, his lips nipping at all the sensitive parts of your neck and his hands seeking out whatever skin he can get to first.

"Why not?" he asks, his voice low just beside your ear - so low that it sends a shiver down your spine, your chest pressing straight to his. "It's technically our anniversary after all."

This whole thing had started last year - in his bye-week - not long after you had moved in with your brother, and had been invited with the two of them and a couple more of their friends for a week-long trip.

What had always been teasing and lingering between you and Nico had swiftly evolved into more - one night of one too many drinks leading you straight to his bed, and one night leading to something frequent and forbidden.

Something changed in the summer - the two of you meeting up a little more back in Switzerland, when you weren't under your older brother's constant supervision, and you weren't worrying about being caught all the time, and then when you all came back to the states, you found yourself in Nico's bed more often than your own.

“I couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you I am.”

Your heart thuds in your chest at the revelation, muttered straight into your ear - it taking you a second to get past the vibration of his words down your whole entire body before you register exactly what he said.

And then you lean back, your faces close as you turn to meet his eye - that captivating glimmer shining straight across dark chocolate irises, the smirk from before melting into something softer, more serious, more real.

"You're in love with me?" You ask, watching the smile slowly grow.

"Obviously," he replies, his thumb swiping gentle strokes into your spine, not giving it a chance to tense up or stiffen at the revelation - still moulded perfectly to his touch. "I don't risk my life at the hands of your brother for just anybody."

You smile too, despite the four-tonne block of anxiety that's launching itself your way at the all the possible ways this could go wrong.

Nico loves you.

And Timo's just gonna have to deal with it.

"I'm in love with you too," you tell him, leaning in immediately to press a kiss to his lips, like sealing the sentiment in place, feeling them curve against your own.

"Good," he mutters against you, kissing and kissing until you're too far gone again to do anything about it. "We should fuck again to celebrate, just in case your brother kills me."

You giggle, still not pulling back, letting his feet shuffle towards the end of the bed and guide you the same way.

You'll shower later. Probably with Nico - and the smell of his shampoo in your hair might give the two of you away, but who cares.

He's in love with you.

[cyanide-and-roses]

Vengeance and Valentines

Two-Face x Female Reader

⁽ᶜᵂ: ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ, ʸᵃⁿᵈᵉʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒʳ⁾

(Author's note: this was originally a request for @yandere-wishes, but I accidentally deleted the original draft. My bad, I can be such a ditz. Anyways, happy Valentine's Day!)

You carefully inspected the image reflected in your vanity mirror. You had a date tonight, and your mind was filled to the brim with worry. Was your makeup good? Did your jewelry match your outfit? Was the dress you picked out good enough?

You take a deep breath.

"You look perfect." you told yourself, your reassuring smile reflected back at you.

You turn your attention to the alarm clock sitting across the room on your bedside table.

It's 6:00 PM. One hour before Harvey should be here.

"Maybe I should have waited a bit before I got ready." you sigh. Well, now you've got some time to kill. You grab a book from your bookshelf and go to sit on the edge of your bed.

You open the book and find yourself unable to focus on the words in the page, your mind still racing with worry.

"Are you putting yourself in danger by dating a known criminal?" You ask yourself.

Not only was he wanted by the police, but there's plenty of monsters who have a bone to pick with your lover. Sure, Harvey, as well as his alter Two-Face, wouldn't let any of them lay a finger in you, but you'd have to be stupid to ignore the fact that by associating with them, you're putting a target on your back.

Two-Face is also known to get jealous. You recall how a few weeks ago he snapped and threatened one of his henchmen because he believed they were ogling you. The poor bastard swore up and down that he was doing no such thing, but Two-Face wasn't having it. You had to talk him out of hurting the guy.

Even though it is obvious that what you're doing is dangerous, you're still hesitant to leave Harvey. You love him, after all, and you seem to have evaded misfortune so far. There's also a small part of you, a darker, maybe even masochistic side of you, that wants to find out how bad it can get.

You try to ignore all these thoughts racing around your mind but to no avail. Frustrated, you put down the book and look at the clock.

An hour and twenty minutes has passed.

"Where the hell is he?" you mutter in mild annoyance, before you hear a knock at the door. You quickly make your way out of your room and to the front door.

Upon opening the door, you are greeted by the sight of your darling in his usual two-toned suit, stained with blotches of deep red blood.

"Sorry I'm late," he begins to speak, ignoring the shocked expression on your face. "I forgot I had some last minute business to attend to."

"Harvey... you're..."

"Oh, right! The blood. Didn't have time to change. We'll just swing by my place before we head out to dinner." He takes you by the arm rather suddenly and leads you to his car which he parked in your driveway. He ushers you into the backseat, before he gets up front and starts the car.

Once the shock wears off a little, you gather up enough courage to ask what exactly is going on.

"Somebody's been getting too close to you for my liking." He explains, still very nonchalant about the very strange situation he's put you in. "You know that guy you work with? The chatty one?"

Dreads courses through your veins as you figure out what he's going to say next.

"He was just a coworker! You didn't need to kill the man!"

"Just a coworker? The man has been planning to ask you out for a while." Harvey justifies.

"How would you know that? What, have you been watching him? Going through his stuff? Fuck, even if he was going to ask me out, I would have just turned him down!"

Harvey's jaw clenches. You can tell you're starting to anger him.

"(Y/N), I trust you enough to know you won't leave me, but that doesn't mean I can stand idly by as somebody tries to steal you away. It doesn't matter that they won't succeed, it's the fact they even think about it in the first place." He says, trying to keep his voice as calm and steady as possible.

There's a silence between the two of you for a few minutes, before Two-Face speaks up.

"I could have been more brutal, you know? The bastard got lucky. If he lost the coin toss, I would've prolonged his death. He's lucky he just got a knife through the heart."

You don't respond.

"Look, I know what I did was drastic. I know I scared you, but I did it because I love you too much to risk losing you. Now, we're almost at my place. How about I get changed, then we enjoy our night out, okay? I'm sorry for worrying you."

Harvey waits for your response.

"Alright, babe... let's just get going." You sigh and force a smile.

You knew how dangerous loving this man could get. There's no backing out now. All you have to do is ignore the dread in your stomach and try to enjoy your special night out.