#or i managed to overstimulate myself to death without really knowing how

[slutforwings]

either i have to start my period or my autism is evolving. or im getting a burnout idk. in any case i just felt the need to kill myself over granola texture so! somethings going on!

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

Wordcount: 5,9k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for full series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Panic attack, Alcohol

Description: Simon takes you to the doctor in the morning, while Soap takes you to a bar in the evening.

A/N: My wrist is starting to flare up again, this shit is so hard to manage, ugh :( but I finally got the chapter finished. Almost ten chapters, I'm rather impressed with myself how far I've gotten already. My usual friend who reads through my stuff was unfortunately unavailable this time around, so I hope it's not too bad. Hope you all enjoyed <3

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The sterile smell of the medical office is enough to make you want to collapse into a ball of an overstimulated mess. You felt guarded the second Simon had dragged you out of the house this morning, and here at the clinic it was no different.

The office itself is cosier than you'd thought it to be, there hadn't been a lot in the waiting room, and even the receptionist was exceedingly nice. And still, you couldn't find it in your heart to be as nice back to her. Your tone earned you a glare from Simon, but the man wasn’t one to talk, he hated trips like these as much as you.

"There we go...you're all good, let me just go finalize your file, and you'll be good to go," the doctor smiles at you. He'd been nothing but gentle and caring ever since you entered his office. Not that he had much of a choice with the imposing figure that was Simon, and your own death glares sent his way.

He rises from his chair and leaves the two of you alone in the medical office.

You slide your legs off the medical table, getting back up into a sitting position so you could shrug your pant leg back down. As you had suspected, you really hadn't needed to go here, but Price's insistence was something you couldn't get around.

As long as you took it easy, didn't do too much running, then it'd heal just fine with no extra help.

"I don't like him," you mumble to Simon when he hands you, your boots.

"You don't like any doctors" he grumbles right back at you.

You give him a glare that he remains unfazed to. "Am I wrong?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing look on his face that made something inside your heart twitch.

He was wearing a black surgical mask; one Soap had shoved in his hand before he left the house. Price kept on insisting that he not be an idiot, and actually try to blend in a bit more. There hadn't been much protest from him, but he did seem more tense without the usual skull mask covering his features.

It was easier to hide behind a mask. To not let people see any humanity in you when you take them down. Every cruel act would be confined to the mask, it would a separation of who you truly are.

They had tried to force a mask upon you, create an identity they could shape and mould. They had failed with the mask, so they took something much more personal from you.

His mask was a choice.

Yours hadn't been.

Carved with tooth and nail, wooden and strong, it had been strapped to your face. Only a knife could cut it away the meaning it held even after you put it to rest. You could almost imagine it, the flesh peeling down from your face as you try to cut away the sins beneath. You could cut all you wanted; no amount of blood would wash you clean.

It would be so easy too.

The doctor had so many tools in here, each and every one could be used if you knew how, and you did.

Cut cut cut

Wash away the sins

"Spider?"

Ignore him

Your attention is brought back to him. It still feels foreign, that nickname on his lips so easily, as if he'd never stopped. It sounded different, with his voice being deeper, more brute. 

He always kept his voice a tad quieter when he addressed you, compared to how he addressed someone such as Gaz. It was different, yet still lacked the warmth he held for Soap.

You try to see past the cover of his face, but it all remains hidden to you. Even with the smaller mask. You should be able to see his face, the smooth skin beneath, his locks of hair. Instead, it's all covered in black shadows, creating a terrifying display of limbs and mass.

He reaches for you again, a steady hand to support you down from the table. You flinch away.

He tucks his hand back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A defensive manner you'd say, but there are more layers to it. He lets out a deep-rooted sigh and turns away from you, picking up the backpack he'd brought.

Essentials, Price had said when he shoved it into his arms.

Essentials for what you can't quite imagine, you weren't planning on being out long. Simon unzips the bag, placing it on the table next to you to rummage through it. He picks out a wrapped sandwich, shoves it into your hands so you have no choice but to take it. He gives you a pointed look.

"You didn't eat breakfast."

"I wasn't hungry," you protest, but by the growl of your stomach, you aren't given much choice than to accept it. He keeps staring at you, and you realize a little late that he intends for you to eat it now. With a huff, you open it up and take a bite. It's actually not too bad.

The doctor comes back in soon after, forcing your muscles to tense up once more. He gives you a few painkillers, on the house he says, despite how you protest to it. Simon takes the bag for you, probably to make sure you actually kept eating your meal.

"Bloody hell...cold is starting to get annoying," Simon grumbles when the two of you exit the clinic.

"At least this place actually gets snow...most places I've been to recently have just been cold and wet...no snow," you tell him quietly while looking over at a young family of four going further down the street, probably on their way to the market.

"If we're lucky we'll have a white Christmas here too" Simon says in the same grumpy tone. He didn't seem all that excited about it. Maybe he'd rather be at home, and not out here. You'd understand that, not that you had anything to look forward to yourself.

"Lucky?" you raise a brow he doesn't get to see, your attention still darting between the people walking by and in and out of stores.

"Gotta look for the positives Spider..."

Simon gains your attention back with a wave of his hand, he gestures towards the store just opposite of the clinic.

"We should pop in before we head back...need a couple of things for dinner," He starts walking without much of a confirmation, forcing you to pick up the pace to keep up.

"Didn't Soap say he had a surprise for dinner?"

He lets out a rumble of a chuckle and shakes his head, "Yeah but something tells me it's not going to include a lot of actual dinner"

Soap has an eager smile when he leads the flock of you to his most recent discovery. He'd insisted the lot of you needed even a moments' relaxation, to do an honoured tradition within the group. It had been in your suspicions, but somehow you still find yourself slightly disappointed that it's just a bar.

"Beautiful corner piece of the town...or well...that is what ah was told," he takes the step down to the dark wood door. He opens it paying no mind to it's creaking in complaint; quiet music lures the lot of you closer to the dim lighted bar. He gestures with his head towards you, beckoning you inside.

You step forward with your question as you descend behind him, "are you sure this is really a good idea-"

An abrupt hand grabs your arm and saves you what could've been a nasty trip down the extra two stairs that comes after the door. "Easy! Watch your step," Soap chuckles, quickly letting go of your arm when you find your footing and take the last steps fully into the bar.

The rest follow close behind, some more eager than others at the prospect of a drink and some downtime without the stress. Someone answers your question, but you don't hear it. You're too busy looking at where Soap's touch had been, as if you expect burn marks to suddenly appear.

Three of the men walk past you, not minding your little stop in the middle of everything. They go to find a table in the back, taking in the rest of the bar. It's small and quaint, not room for many, but not a lot seems to even frequent this place.

You feel Simon's looming presence behind you. He's refusing to move past you, intent on not letting you be the last, for whatever reason.

You follow after the others. No need to hog the space and attract more attention than you undoubtedly already do.

The booth they've found sits up against the wall, close enough to the bar but also in the lower light of the back. Price and Gaz have taken a seat inward, Soap takes a seat at the edge next to Gaz and Simon next to Price.

You stop for a moment, contemplate where to squeeze yourself in. Soap moves further in and makes space for you next to him. You sit down with little other choice, but quietly appreciative of not sitting in-between the burly men. There was space to make a quick exit should you ever need it.

Simon's eyes meet yours briefly before you rip them away, putting your attention to Gaz and Soap who are already collecting the group's orders to go get them all some drinks.

"And what about you, Spider?" Gaz asks, an excited smile on his lips; he has a pretty glint in his eyes.

Of course. Alcohol.

When was the last time you drank any? Hard to say.

"Uh...yeah, whatever you're having," your mind is only been half there since the morning. Your thoughts occupied, as they often are. You survey the area, looking for the familiar faces, but your own mind sabotages your attempts.

The shadows are persistent.

You could only hope that the alcohol would silence them, even if only somewhat.

This was going to be an interesting night, that was for sure.

He set off enough time. A proper goodbye.

It's time to go. Simon knows it's time, the only way out of here is waiting for him, yet he can't get himself to move. The suns coming down, and you're still not here. He looks at his watch, the ticker going at a steady rate. It couldn't be his timing that was wrong. Despite your usual punctuality, you're late. 5 minutes he can handle, 10 even, but you're still not here and it's been 20 minutes.

And you were missing it.

Maybe you were still angry with him. Still too huddled up in your own thoughts of childish betrayal. He understood why you were upset, but he didn't understand why you were so hell-bent on resenting him for it.

He was getting his way out; you should be happy, right? It's what the both of you have been wanting for years. Since you were little kids and barely even knew each other. It was his only way out; he wasn't going to pass on it to keep you comfortable.

He would come back. He'd swear it to you, to any god that's never answered his prayers. He'll come back for you, to take you with him. When he's got enough money, a place of his own and a secure way out. He'll come save you.

He'll promise it as many times as he needs to, until you believe him, until you have enough reassurance to wait just a little longer.

But he can't wait for you forever.

He lets out a sigh, tugging his coat closer around himself. It's getting colder, the night air can be relentless.

"Where are you, spider..."

The graveyard looks lonely without you. It's hard to believe this is the place you've spent so many years, a morbid refuge only the two of you truly know. He could walk around blindfolded here if he had to, one time you even made him for a fun game. Perhaps it wasn't the most respectful thing for the dead, but you two kept them company in their cold, dark graves.

You'd all end up in the ground eventually, some sooner than others.

He had to go.

If you wouldn't come to him, he'd come to you.

He'd walked the way to your place countless times. Had sneaked around just the way you showed him. A rule the two of you had whenever you didn't come, typically you'd gotten grounded, because you never missed your hangouts, never. You showed him just where to step to not be seen, just where to hit the window to your bedroom to get it loose. A faulty lock that never got replaced.

He used his own precision to crawl into your room with as little noise as possible. A skill he hoped to refine when he got his place in the military.

He did it like clockwork, crawled inside like it was nothing.

But you weren't in your room, either.

It's not often Simon allows tears to rise to his eyes these days, but this hurt. It really fucking hurt. He was going to miss you way more than you knew, and you didn't even seem to care. Where the hell were you.

There had never been a whole lot to look at in your room. It was pretty bare-bones, always neat and clean because there were consequences if it wasn't. Too white and bare for his own taste as well. He might not be much better in decorating, but your room still seemed to be overkill in the amount of nothing it exuded.

Simon sat down on your bed, wincing at the creaking springs. He could only hope your absence meant that of your families as well. They'd never quite taken much of a liking to him, something about his lack of faith, something about his lack of showing it, or just about the family he came from. The reasoning never stayed the same for long.

"Oh, spider...what am I going to do with you..." he runs a hand over his face, following an exhausted huff.

He couldn't ignore it any longer. The time ticked on, and he didn't have forever. He didn't time, he never had enough time.

In a last effort to contact you, he grabs a page of your notebook, scribbling down a parting message for you. Hopefully you'd find it, hopefully you wouldn't hate him or blame him for how this is turning out. He tried.

He places it on top of your pillow, staring at it longer than he should. He knows he should get a move on, that the world won't wait for him, but part of him can't get himself to move. He still hopes you'll walk through the door any moment now. That you can get some time together, even if it's just a few seconds so he can kiss your lips and apologize a million times over.

The sound of the opening door makes his heart skip a beat; he turns around with a haste he didn't have before. He's disappointed to see it isn't you, only to be panicked at the knowledge that it really isn't you.

Simon is frozen in place, looking at the unfamiliar adult before him. He's got a piercing gaze, there's no question in his eyes, as if he already knows who and why Simon is here.

Simon's eyes dart up to the man's hair, something unnatural about the blonde colour, too bright and too slicked back to give off any comforting vibes.

"They're not here," his voice is icy cold, stating the obvious.

"I know-"

"You should leave, they don't need you here."

Simon's brow furrows at his words, taking offence to the near insult thrown his way. Who the hell even was this guy, and why did he care that much. One look at the time, and he reminds himself that it's not a fight he has the time for, not even to question the man.

"Yeah...whatever... I'm leaving...tell them I'm sorry I missed them," he walks towards the door, intent on leaving on more conventional means than he came in. He stops In front of the man, only now really realizing how big he was compared to Simon himself.

"Excuse me," he tries to walk past, but only receives another glare from him.

The message doesn't need to be spoken aloud for Simon to get it, but it doesn't make him any more happy about it. "Bloody hell, man, are you serious," he complains and crosses his arms.

"Get out."

The air has a crisp sense of the oncoming dark winter. Hell, it was practically in the middle of winter already by all the damned snow that just kept falling everywhere. It made for pretty scenery but came along with a cold Simon wasn't a fan of.

Still, it wouldn't keep him from ruminating by himself, smoke in hand, as he took time away from the stuffy atmosphere the bar started to adopt.

Unfortunately, Simon has a habit of stewing on old memories when he's left to his own devices. Typically, he goes over things in his past, painful memories like the good ones. Of his younger days in the military, of when he met Price, of how he became ghost, newer additions being his early relationship with Johnny and how it's evolved.

He finds it gives him a sense of peace to ruminate over his choices, whether good or bad. To analyse situations and prepare for similar ones, no matter the circumstance or person. Though ever since being shipped out here, his thoughts seem to only ever be on who his spider used to be.

Trying to piece together the puzzle of your mind and figure out how you became so. It's one of the greater puzzles of the universe. At least to him.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs one final time as his thoughts come to a close over the last memory. How he left you behind. Not a fond memory, and even then, his mind is a muddy walk to go through.

He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, lets the smoke run its course. There's not much left of it, and it was his last light. He'd be damned if he didn't savour it. He could likely bait Price into buying some more for him when he makes his own run to town for more cigars. If they even have any. The captain did have a particular taste, as much in people as his smoking habits.

This place hadn't been much help when it came to gathering intel. He was getting restless in the lack of progress. He knew it to be a delicate process, but normally he'd been able to probe somebody about something by now. He'd have a goal to focus on, instead he's left to wondering about too many things.

The only thing that was keeping him in somewhat of an amenable mood this evening was the towns’ ability to provide a decent drink.

If he was being fair to his own faults, he'd even allow himself to acknowledge how nice it was to be out with the entire team again, with you again. He'd been surprised to see you eager enough for a drink, finishing it off even faster than Johnny or Gaz.

It was nice to see you comfortable, to see you smile. Even if the alcohol likely had a part in getting you to be more open to them. You got a lot more daring, that was for sure, a lot more talkative. Not many of your stories made much sense, changing course and directive half-way through, but you did speak rather fondly of the old team you'd been with a few years ago.

Even if he hadn't been in on your life in a long time, he was glad you'd found comfort in others when he wasn't there to provide it. Even if you had changed, deep down you still kept the same quirks from when you were young, though of course more muted.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs along with a deep sigh. He wanted to get closer to you, but it felt like an impossible prospect. He didn't understand how Johnny made it look so easy, he could be at the ends of the earth, and he'd still make friends wherever that would be.

His attention is lured back to the door at the sound of the little bell ringing above it.

He watches as you come stumbling out of the little bar, almost tripping over your own feet as you take the three steps up. He raises a brow at your form, you definitely hadn't looked that drunk when he was in there. What the hell did you drink.

"You alright there, Spider?"

You garble out some nonsense before coming to stand beside him, leaning all of your weight back on the wall behind you. "Yeah...M'fine..." you said in the most unconvincing voice he's ever heard. He keeps his eyes on you, surveying your expressions. He wasn't about to let you barf all over him.

"You know... I wish I'd found you a bit earlier...you're all so nice..." you let out a little huff as if you'd been running for a while. You let out a quiet giggle, something he truly doesn't think he's ever heard you do, at least not like that.

"Yeah... It's good to have you back, Spider..." he almost allows himself to spout out how much he's missed you. It hangs in the back of his throat, right along with his emotions. It's not the time. He doubts you'll even remember this conversation in the morning. But maybe that was all the more reason to do it.

"Why did you even join up, spider?"

You don't answer at first, and he thinks that maybe you've already clocked out mentally for the night. Your head turns to look at him, something unreadable in your expression. "You never came back..." you sound sad, small in your voice.

His brows furrow, his mouth slightly open before he snaps back to reality and takes another puff of his cigarette. He realizes this is probably the first time you've seen this much of his face without the mask. He'd been lucky enough that it was late and not many around to stare at his ugly mug...but you.

He feels out of place under your gaze, an odd need to crawl away and hide in the darkest corner he can find. It's a foreign feeling with you.

"Figured I needed to do something with my life, and it's not like I had many other opportunities waiting for me back home," you turn your head away once again. For a moment, you sound completely sober, the conversation doing more for you than any amount of cold air ever could.

Then again, the more you seem to stand there, the more your grimace widens. In a swift motion, you push yourself away from the wall, putting your weight back onto your unsteady feet. You push past him, to the edge of the building, the little alley gap in-between.

"Hey where are you going!" he shouts out confused. You turn the corner of the building, disappearing into the darkness. His brows furrowed as he took another puff of his cigarette, hoping you'd emerge shortly after. Maybe you just needed to walk it off?

When he hears the horrid sound of your retching, he knew he was wrong.

"Oh, bloody hell," he throws his cigarette to the ground, crushing it against the pavement before hurrying over to turn the same corner. Surely enough, there you are. Bucked over and barfing up your insides, which seems to be more stomach acid and alcohol than any food.

His movements are as gentle as he can make them, not keen on having you flinch away from help when you're like this. He places his hand on your back, the other supporting your shoulder so you don't fall over. You don't seem to react at all.

"Steaming Jesus, ah was wondering where ye ran off to."

Simon turns his head, seeing Johnny come closer to the two of them. "How much did they drink..." Simon grumbles in a worried tone. When you seem finish puking, he helps you back up, steadier on your feet this time. With a groan, you lean back against the wall behind you.

"Ffffuck..."

"Didn't think ye drank that much...don't hold ye alcohol too well," Johnny gives you a cheeky grin.

You tip your head forward, losing your balance like a newborn foal. Simon is quick to act, gently cupping your cheek to hold up your head, so you don't hurt yourself. "You need to get back to the house and sleep this off..." he didn't think your tolerance would be this shit, but he doesn't recall you ever having much of a tolerance to begin with.

"Help me with them, will ya" Simon moves your arm, helping you use him as support. Johnny takes your other side, helping you lean on them both before they embark on the way back. They help you stumble back out of the alley, where they're met with the questioning stare of Kyle.

He lets out a low chuckle at the sight, "time to go, then?"

  

He'd found it amusing then, more frustrating now. "Spider- no- do not-" he puts a firm hand on your waist so you don't trip over your own legs down out of the car. You lean all your weight on him, and he has to do a mental double take to not keel over right along with you.

Getting you inside is a struggle and a half. Simon isn't sure where your little spouts of energy are coming from, but they surge through you at a random pace. You're almost worse than when you had just gotten freshly drunk in the bar itself.

"No, no... we need to.... ffgh-" you try to tell him something, but he doesn't have half a mind to listen when he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. You refused to wear a jacket, and he will not have you freezing out here without you even realizing it.

Johnny comes up next to him, helps walk you inside, despite your little protests and seeming urgency to be somewhere else. "C'mon, let's get ye inside" he hooks an arm around yours and together the two of them manage to get you in.

The way to the bedroom is just as annoying and long as it was to get you to the car and back home in the first place. And then as the three of you reach the door, Price calls Johnny away intending on talking to him about something important, leaving Simon to bring you in and into your bed.

"There we go," Simon huffs as he gets you to lean on him again so he can close the door with a click. He tries to walk you in the right direction, but fails to steer you towards your own bed, charting a course for the one he and Johnny shared instead.

It didn't matter too much for one night, the three of you could switch if needed.

"C'mon love onto...the...bed," he manages to walk you backwards until the back of your knees meet with the bed and makes you fall down on to it with a huff. You mumble something incoherent again, writhing a little bit until you seem to deflate on the mattress.

Simon lets out a deep huff, standing back up to look at your dishevelled form. He'd dealt with Johnny drunk enough times by now, but at least he wasn't trying to run in ten different directions as if you were either late to something or running for your life.

Seeing as you'd clearly be incapable of taking care of yourself before you fell asleep, he might as well get to it. "Okay Spider...let's get you ready for bed," he mumbles and crouches down to take off your shoes, one and then the other.

"Mh...no..." you writhe a little bit.

"It's alright...you can sleep in a minute," Simon assures you, but he's not entirely sure if you even hear him. He walks over to your closet, rummaging through for something else to wear. He's stunned by how little you have, it's barely a hunt for it, it's right there within eye height.

He brings the other set of clothes over to your bed, not paying too much attention to your mumbling. He leans back again, running a hand over his face. How exactly was he supposed to do this. He doubted that you would change clothes if he asked you.

"M'sorry love but...well...you gotta," he lets his words trail out realizing you were definitely not listening to any words of assurance he was trying to give you.

Just gotta get it over with, and quick, you were starting to rile up again, and he wasn't about to go chasing after you again if you got another sprout of energy.

He leans over you and unbuttons your pants, but he hesitates as he pulls down your zip. Something in him feels awkward, and he switches his course of direction to your shirt instead. His hands gently reach for the edge of the white fabric.

"No-....m'not......can't....ready...."

His hands take a hold of it and with just as gentle movements he starts to pull it up your torso.

"No- NO! Father, please! Not again-"

He lets go like he's been burned. His eyes wide as he takes a firm step away from you in pure shock. His own heart pounds, his mind reeling to understand what just happened. You clutch your shirt around your abdomen, your body shaking like a leaf in the wind. Your body scrambles to lay further away from him on the bed.

His own hands shake, the worst-case scenarios running wild in his mind of all the possible ways he could've just hurt you.

And still, he doesn't understand your reaction.

"Spider..." he says quietly, carefully. You don't respond to it, so he calls your name even softer.

Your breathing is too rabid for his liking, but he doesn't want to risk touching you again. He doubts you'd react positively to it, and he knows that feeling.

At first, he's at a loss at what to do, how to make you calm down, but he realizes it's really so painfully simple. There's nothing much he can do, but he can do what he had wished someone had done for him way back.

Careful to not collide with your shaking form, he lays down beside you. You instinctively roll onto your side and curl up even further, but you don't turn away, so he takes it as a good sign. Your eyes are shut tight, and your body still trembling just as bad as before.

"I'm here..." he whispers quietly, without knowing if you can even hear him. He extends his hand between the two of you, he doesn't touch you, but it's there whenever you're ready. He doesn't know how long the two of you stay like that, and whatever Price needed Johnny for, he's glad it's taken longer than expected.

He doesn't move, almost doesn't dare breathe any more than necessary as he keeps his eyes on your form. His little praises and words of encouragement doesn't seem to do much, but his heart feels desperate.

Simon takes notice of every little movement, of every twitch and hitch in your breath when you slowly open your eyes to meet his. They're glassy, tears threatening to spill over, but they never fully come.

His hand grabs unto the sheets beneath to not reach out and touch your cheek, to be ready to wipe away any tears that may fall.

"M'sorry..." your apology is quiet and raspy, and for a moment it feels like you're still just the scared kids from back home, trying to survive in a world that's not built for them.

"It's just I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself..." he cuts you off sharply. He doesn't know if it was the right call from the deflated look on your face. You nod, biting your lip softly.

"Simon..." your voice is soft and searching. Your shaking hand bumps into his, and he takes it in his, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"It's okay..."

"Please don't go."

"I won't."

His answer is firm, it's the truth, and he would swear it to you if you asked. He's not going to leave. Not again. Never again. He's here to stay whether you push him away or not, he's here by your side, watching. Always.

He makes a decision on a whim without forethought. Simon's arm hooking around your waist and pulling you closer until he can envelop his arms around you and keep you close to his chest. You tense at first, before you relax in his hold, resign your drunken state to him in favour of falling asleep in the arms of the only person who's ever truly made you feel safe.

"M'not going anywhere, Spider..."

Simon doesn't dare move as you lay your head to his chest, and feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. He doesn't dare move when he hears your breathing even out. He especially doesn't dare move when he can feel your body go lax, and sleep take over you.

The door to the room opens with a quiet creak, and Johnny's footsteps comes closer to the bed. "Mh ah see ye got a head start then..." Johnny's smirk is too wide on his lip, and Simon could easily wipe it off if he wasn't holding something more important at that moment.

"Should ah be offended? Jealous even?" Johnny is merely teasing, but it still elicits a groan from Simon.

"Get in here, dumbass."

Johnny lets out a quiet chuckle, looking down at him with a fond smile. "Let me just...scoot in here..." he crawls unto the bed, struggling to make room for himself, but with a bit of adjusting to your sleeping form, Simon manages to make space for him.

"Are you done wiggling around trying to wake them?" Simon mumbles with a thick layer of sarcasm.

"Ah am not trying to-"

"Ssh!"

Johnny settles in, unashamedly cuddling up to your sleeping form and peeking at Simon over your head. "Goodnight, grump" Johnny whispers quietly, reaching over you to squeeze his arm. He lets out a quiet sigh, letting his own body relax down into the mattress.

"Goodnight, Johnny" Simon murmurs, watching Johnny ever so slowly join you in the realm of dreams.

As he lay there with two of arguably the most impactful people he's ever met, he can't help but feel a sense of warmth within him. Not a physical warmth, but a warmth that blooms in his heart. It's unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. The thoughts that occur with them are dangerous, unsure, things he'll undoubtedly have to entertain when the sun rises again.

But for now, he's content with holding his unknowing world in his arms, and let the warmth lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @kaoyamamegami @lilynotdilly @chickennn-soupp @spicyspicyliving @ellabellabunny123 @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @haipasa

[scaramouche-bully]

THAT POST ABOUT OVERSTIM MADE ME REALIZE HOW MUCH I WANT TO DESTROY CHILDE HELP. CAN U WRITE SMTH WHERE HIS S/O USUALLY BOTTOMS BUT WANTS TO TRY TOPPING HIM AND HE JUST KEEPS TRYING TO FLUSTER HER AND TEASE HER AND SHE GETS SO ANNOYED THAT SHE JUST FUCKS HIM STUPID 💕💕

— ☆ Wrecking T*rtaglia headcanons

Includes: Childe

[ Top ] Female reader

Contains: Overstimulation, bratty sub, mind break, sub space, aphrodisiacs, anal gaping, dacryphilia, degradation, size kink, slapping, choking, cock-stepping, humiliation, rough sex, stomach bulge, multiple orgasms, masochism + sadism.

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche 🐏 [ GN ]  

— ☆ Bratty Sub headcanons - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, and Childe 🐑 [ GN ]

[ masterlist ]

Welcome to the "Bully T*rtaglia" club, we are currently taking applications (u‿ฺu✿ฺ). My original draft was sweet but then my computer crashed and I lost everything. So I'm going to channel all my anger into destroying this man (consensually, I promise the ending is soft.).

— ☆ Childe

When you bring up the idea of you topping him, he doesn't take you seriously but he's open to it. While he thinks it's cute that you want to try new things, he's so much bigger than you, and being on top is actually a lot of work compared to being a pillow princess. Are you sure you can handle it?

One of the big issues that came up during your first times was Childe's competitive nature and how fast his recovery time was. He could have came three times and then suddenly flip you on your back and fuck your brains out instead.

Even when he had the patience to be the sub, he would constantly taunt you and be an insufferable brat. Constantly disrespecting you and trying to fluster you. Always reaching down to finger fuck you even when he was stuffed full.

So the next time you brought him a drink, you decided to add something extra. Sitting patiently as he thanked you and downed the entire cup. It only took a few minutes before he began to squirm in his seat.

Childe's face was slowly growing redder and redder, soft pants breaking through the quiet office, his eyes darting to you before settling on the ground. It was amusing seeing him be so quiet rather than running his mouth off every minute. It's only when you start to walk over him in feign concern does he break out of his haze.

Stumbling over himself as he makes wild hand gestures to stop you but as soon as you round his desk, you see his cock straining against his pants, and the embarrassment flood Childe's face. Trying to laugh it off, you're just so pretty he can't help himself, but he's quickly cut off when you prop yourself up onto his desk and step on his cock.

"W-Wait-" Childe groans as his hips buck into your shoe as he grinds against it. Clutching the hand rests of his chair as he leans his head against your knee, soft keens slipping out as you run your fingers through his matted hair as he humps against you. He makes a confused noise when you suddenly tip his chin up, smile sweetly at him, before he's sprawled on the ground as you slap him.

"When did I say you could touch me?" you shot him a cruel look that sent shudders up his spine but also made his cock throb. Whatever you fed him was slowly making him lose his senses until there was just you, you, you. He whines, still on his back, when you take a seat in his chair and dig your shoe onto his dick, randomly applying pressure here and there, his pre-cum wetting his pants as he yelps at the pain. His hands flying up to lift your foot away but he catches himself as chooses to claw his fingers into the wooden flooring instead as he reaches his peak. It's so empowering seeing the man who used to fuck you stupid, whimper and cry as he cums in his pants just from you stepping on his dick.

"P-Please...ah! mm...wha?" Childe looks down confused to see that even after just orgasming, his cock is still hard. His body is so hot that if he doesn't cum again, he feels like he's going to die. He's tries to lift himself onto his elbows and unbutton his pants before you kick him in the chest and send him back down. He's disorientated from the fall when he feels you sit on his chest, cupping his face in your hands to lift him, before slamming his head down. You're almost ripping his hair out with every yank and slap you abuse him with as he yelps like a dog.

"You filthy whore. Did I say you could cum? You ungrateful brat," you spit out as Childe wails in pain, almost knocking you off when he seizes up and shakes. You don't even need to check to know he came again, "Maybe I should gag you and throw you onto the streets. Let everyone here know how much of a pig you are. Is that it what you want?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" his voice is choked up from his tears as he cries over himself. You almost feel bad but he's basically useless in this state, sniffling over himself as he apologizes over and over again. You softly coo at him as you lean over and kiss him sweetly, taking his arms and placing them on your waist as he grips onto you like a lifeline.

"There there Childe. It's alright now, we're going to teach you how to be a good boy. That's what you want right?" you whisper to him as he nods. You pull yourself up even as he grips onto your clothing to stay with him as you unclasp the buttons of his pants and free his cock. Still red and hard in your hands as if he hadn't already orgasmed twice in the span of a few minutes. He's already so wet with pre-come that you don't even need to find lube to jack him off. Ignoring his moans and screams to stop, he's still sensitive, you take him to the hilt in your mouth. Quickly pinning his hips from jerking upwards and choking you, you're the image of content as you swallow around his cock as Childe throws his head back and sobs as he cums down your throat.

“Pl-please, please, mmn- put it in me, please…” he manages to pant you, his mind melted as his eyes blink in and out of consciousness. His body is still burning hot and he can't escape the feeling of being empty. He wants to be filled with your cock, stuffed fill until he can't live without being fucked by you. You've completely ruined him.

"It seems we still have a long way to go. You really are a disappointment Childe," you sigh as you wipe away the stray cum dripping from your mouth as you reach over and feed it to him. He whines low in the throat at tasteing himself but feeling you touch him in some way is the only thing grounding him before you pull away and stand up, "Go on. Finger yourself open for me."

"W-Wha?"

"Childe. I said. Finger yourself open. I won't repeat myself again."

He quickly nods, not ready to disobey you again, as he lifts himself up to get his pants fully off. He knows what you want and it makes the fire in him burn hotter. Using his own pre-come with shaky hands, he reaches over to hold his legs up for you, and circles around his rim before dipping inside. The embarrassment of holding himself open like this and your watchful gaze almost has him cumming again but he can't. He wants to be good. He does his best to spread himself open at this awkward angle but he soon loses himself. He should feel ashamed for getting off on someone watching him but it makes him finger himself deeper and harder. He's taken out of his pleasurable moment when he feels your hand join his. Taking one hand as you spread his ass to see his loose hole. The pre-cum from his cock slowly leaking down. You're absentmindedly lacing your fingers inside him, before pulling both your hands out as you line your strap on to his rim. He didn't even notice you put it on.

"Did you know I had to fake every orgasm because you were such a sloppy fuck? Perhaps I should show you how to fuck someone properly," is the only warning he gets before you grip his hips until your fingernails draw blood, before slamming into him. He throws his head back and chokes on his screams as his cock shoots cum all over his chest.

"Who said you could come?" you spit out as you grip his cock and squeeze harshly as he screams. The overstimulation is too much, it hurts. He's desperately trying to push you away but whatever strength he built is lost. Only able to lay there and take it. He looks down to see his stomach bulge with every thrust you make, the image of you rearranging his insides sends him flying as he tries to cum again but the death grip you have on him, he just can't. He's full-on sobbing as you continue to abuse his prostate, he's going to break, you're breaking him.

"nO! P-PLEASE! STO-" he begging as you continue to pound into him. You push even further, until your cock fully inside him now, and stay there rubbing right up against his prostate. Watching amused as Childe tries to shudder to the large intrusion, the never-ending pressure on his sensitive spots makes him almost feral. You swear he has hearts in his eyes right now.

"Pleasepleaseplease-"

You pull out slowly, just until the tip is inside him, before gripping his wrists as leverage and ruthless slamming into him. Childe parts his hips in a voiceless cry as you finally break his mind and fuck him dumb. He scrambles against the floor as he tries to find anything to ground him, trying to fuck himself back on your cock as he drools all over the floor. His vision leaves him as all his senses focused on the harsh drag of your cock in him, the wet slapping noise that fills the room, and the tears that slip from his eyes down to the floor. His cock throbs with each thrust you force into his body, thighs jerking, as his tongue lolls out.

"Oh!--mh, m-more!" Childe babbles deliriously, he's being reduced to nothing but a warm hole for you to fill whenever you feel like it. Reduced from a harbinger to a whore for you to use. He feels the breath get punched out of his lungs as his abdomen stretches and burns. His hole clenching around your dick that you have to forcefully yank him down to stuff him, "Hahh, you're tearing me o-open."

"You disgusting whore. Can you feel it?" you mock as you take one hand to spread his ass apart, you see his hole is red and puffy, pre-cum from his semi-hard cock leaking down where you're both connected. He shudders that you've fucked him so bad that his hole is gaping. It's when you reach over and clasp both of your hands around his neck and squeeze that he comes crashing down. Wheezing at the lack of oxygen that makes him see white, he feels so warm and content, mind filled with bliss, as he cums. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into him as his cock finally softens as he relaxes and drifts off into space before slowly losing consciousness.

--- You slowly blink awake to soft kisses being placed on your neck, Childe's lazy form cuddled up to you as you stroke his hair. He's always so clingy the morning after. "Are you feeling alright? I was a bit mean wasn't I?" you ask a bit embarrassed as memories of last night flood your mind. You know you both agreed on what your limits were but you couldn't help but feel a bit worried you may have pushed him too far. Childe props himself on his elbow to smile dumbly at you, you were perfect.

"It was alright I suppose," he chuckles when you lightly punch him in the chest, "I didn't think you would try and drug me like that. You know I could get you arrested for that. " "Ha! Good luck finding someone that will fulfill your perverted fantasies. Besides you're the one that wanted to experiment with them and don't phrase it like that either," you shake your head at him before leaning up to kiss him. When you pull away you take notice of all the bruises and marks you left on him. There's a small part of you that purrs at the claim you made but you quickly shoo it away. It's too early for that. If your back is hurting you have no idea how Childe is faring. "Here, let me get you some water and let me see your head," you offer, pulling yourself up before Childe's arm wraps around you and pulls you down to lay beside him. Placing his weight on top of you so you can't squirm away, even as you swat at his back he smothers you until you give up.

"Stay with me."

"Hah...alright. Just for a bit."

[tipsydipsydo]

Pairing: tall! & sub! Reader x dom! OT7 BTS

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2.3k  

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Dom-/Sub-Dynamics; accidental overhearing of a phone call, Mentions of Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Mentions of Sex Toys & Masturbation; slightly mentioned Double Penetration; mentions of Anal play; Praising; Petnames; some Degradation; Daddy-Kink; Teasing; slight Edging; the boys are teasing the poor reader to Death

A/N: Well- that was a quick writing. Instead of studying I decided to write this funny request and to use my procrastination in a better way than scrolling stressed through TikTok. I hope y’all like it!!

Status: unedited bc I am lazy and should study. 

Request: i want to request a drabble/one shot: sub taller male reader and his seven boyfriends in which he confidently talks naughty things with his friend on phone but when he realized his bf are watching, he became crazily shy because he is just a big cute boy, then his bf decided they want to test those ‘words’ he has said, poor boy =))

Requested by: anonymous 

[Links]:

▪My Writings

▪Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

After too many and super busy weeks full of work, you’ve finally managed to find a free afternoon in your schedule where your best friend and you have enough time for a nice, long telephone call on the couch. You are already over one and a half hour on the phone, exchanging the newest stuff that happened in your life with each other and joking around. Slowly your conversation turns their focus to your more private life and your bestie asks you about your polyamorous relationship with your boyfriends. At first just normal things like, how’s it going in general, how you all manage the relationship with all the different time schedules, how often it comes to fights and how you deal with that etc. Just normal stuff and  the ‘typical’ questions you’re already used to, when people realize that you’re not in a monogamous relationship. 

Your best friend and you grew up together. You met each other in elementary school, went through the curses of puberty as an inseparable team and even survived middle and high school thanks to the other one. Already in your teens, where both of you made your first experiences and got into your first relationships, your best friend had a guess that you’re not as straight as you want him to believe. No, they even assumed that you’re maybe not made for the typical monogamous relationship which the society preach every fucking day. 

Well, turns out that your best friend really knew you better than you did yourself back then but honestly, nowadays you’re thankful for their suggestions and that they gave you the save space you needed to dare to make new experiences in those directions. 

Nevertheless, they were still more than surprised when you introduced him to not only two or three boyfriends, no that you brought seven (!) other men to their birthday party two years ago. At first they were a little worried if you didn’t overload yourself with such a complex relationship dynamic and that it’ll turn out as a serious burden and not an enrichment for your life. Turns out, now it was their turn to make a false assumption about what’s the best for you and theu were more than happy to admit that everything turned out just fine. It truly makes their heart swell to hear the happiness in your voice through the phone everything you mention something about the boys. 

Quickly your phone call turn into an even more private talk and dedicate itself to the really interesting stuff. You’re sharing every detail in your life with another, so why should it stop when it comes to sex talk? You have absolutely no problem and any shame to talk freely with your best friend about your kinks and dirty thoughts. Sometimes you even think that you’re better informed about each other’s preferences better than your actual partner(s) are. 

“I think, I already told you that idea more than once... that I have a thing for exhibitionism and the thought of getting catched doing something ‘forbitten’ or ‘dirty’, right? Uhm... TMI but I don’t give a shit, whenever I am alone at home because they’re busy and we can’t meet for some days... I mastubate with some of the toys they’ve bought for me and imagine that they catch me. You know, when we have sessions with Dom and Sub Dynamics, they’re only temporarily and usually we go back to normal in the moment when the scene is over... that means, when I am alone and horny, I can do whatever I want to. I can jack off or fuck myself as much I desire and they wouldn’t say anything about it. It’s not like, I don’t appreciate my personal freedom when it comes to masturbation or that I want something completely different, no! We both already talked about that too, I don’t like the idea of Total Power Exchange, I prefer to be an independent person as soon as I walk out of the bedroom- okay, not only bedroom, we have sex in other places than the bedroom too- ANYWAY, what I wanted to say with that: ...”, you mutter and take a deep breath into your lungs. 

After holding such a long monologue your mouth dried up terribly and now you need quickly something to drink. You get up from the couch and walk over to the kitchen island to pour some soda into a glass. A satisfied hum leaves your throat after you took some gulps of your favourite sparkling sugar bomb. 

The whole time, where you moved around in the eat-in kitchen of the apartment, you are not that alone anymore as you thought you’d be, especially right in this moment. Namjoon, Hoseok and a boyish smirking Jimin joined you around ten minutes ago, leaning casually against the wall next to the door of the room and listen very interested to the conversation you have with your friend right now. They didn’t mean to overhear your private talk, they just wanted to know what kind of take-out food you’d prefer for tonight. 

Unfortunately your conversation turned out to be very, very interesting for them, so they decided to give you some more time to talk with your best friend about the sexual fantasies you have which they don’t know about... well, until now.

Hoseok texted the other boys in the group chat to join them in the living room as well, they need to hear those very important information too! 

Poor you, completely oblivious and naïve to what’s happening in this moment, not getting any kind of hint that not only your best friend would get those significant informations...

“...-what I actually wanted to say with that: I prefer to be independent in relation to all other non-sexual life-responsibilities. Well, that doesn’t mean we couldn’t increase the Erotic Power Exchange, right? To be very honest, I can’t get the fantasy of them taking my sextoys away and to forbid me to touch myself without their permission out of my head. I love to be their good boy and to get praises, I really do... but there is this thrill to be break the instructed rules, getting caught while doing it and getting punished for it. I want... I want to get called bad, filthy and dirty names, I want to be a disobedient, greedy and insatiable slut for them. I want to get spanked, edged and overstimulated, I want to get fucked into the mattress so bad, up to the point where I can’t get a single clear thought together and my brain turned to mush... I want to get used, ruined and wrecked by their cocks, getting my holes stuffed full with their cum and then plugged up, so nothing can run out anymore- God fuck, I should stop talking like that or I’ll get a serious problem! Well... sorry for so much detailed TMI, you know that this shit always happens when you tell me to stop overthinking and encourage me to spill everything that comes to my mind. Now you got every filthy detail you’ve asked for, you’re welcome.”, you joke sarcastically and facepalm yourself. You can’t believe how incredibly blunt and shameless you just threw your latest sex fantasy in every fucking detail at your poor best friend. 

Usually you’re more than shy to talk about such things, in your understanding the magic for your shameless mouth towards your best friend has to reside in the deep thrust you have in him and simply the knowledge that your relationship is platonic. It’s not like that you couldn’t trust your boyfriends wholeheartedly, god no! You know, that they would never kinkshame you for anything, 

it’s just... after sharing those thoughts it would result something out of it. You don’t want that they  think you’re a weirdo or that they only do specific things because they know it would turn you on. 

The other one just snorts in amusement when you voice this slight helpless apology, they can imagine the significant blush which has settled down on your cheeks. 

“Hey buddy, don’t apologize for that. There is nothing to apologizing for, I am way too curious for my own good as well and I need to make sure that you’re happy in your relationship, especially when it comes to the point if they are able to fulfill your sexual desires. I need to know that, believe me. Okay, there’s one thing... I knew you were submissive, my dude. But I didn’t expect that you’d be such a masochistic hoe and that you’d have such a thing for degradation, Jesus! Nevermind, more important: did you talked with them about that fantasy? Would they be down for this idea and would they like to be more in charge? Please do not tell me that you’re too shy to talk with them about it, not again! I tell you this every goddamn time, communication is key!”, your best friend says to you in a serious tone. 

Here you go again, getting scolded by your friend all over again. He is right, you know that... y’all already talked about ‘how to deal with certain kinks some of them or you have but the others aren’t into and how to not make them feel bad or insecure about it’ several times, you tend to overthink everything you have ever said to them all over again. You are always so flustered when seven pairs of eyes are looking at you, waiting for an answer. You are tall, even taller than Namjoon, but under their curious stares you feel always so small, fiddling with your fingers around like a little schoolboy. You love that about them, putting you into such a submissive place just with their aura and charisma and giving you the feeling as if they overtower you physically too. 

“I can absolutely agree with Y/BF/N, communication is key. Why didn’t you told us those nasty fantasies you have in your cute head up here, right away? Too shy again? Do we really need to call your best friend the next time to get some hints to your secret kinks, Babyboy?”, Taehyung rasps into your earshell and wraps his arms around you. He chuckles slightly as you squeak high-pitched in surprise. 

An equal surprised yelp of your best friend comes out of the speaker of your phone which takes Yoongi out of your hand and excuse you with the apology that ‘they need to have an important talk with you now and that you have to hang up unfortunately’. 

The display of your phone turns dark and Yoongi puts it on the surface of the kitchen island before he flashes you a dirty smile. That you’re mortified that they caught you spilling all those filthy fantasies to your best friend is the understatement of the century. Never and you mean never did you hoped so bad that the floor opens up and swallows you whole, saving you from this embarrassing misery. But Yoongi give you much time to drown in shame, coming up to you and connect your lips to a rough kiss. 

“God, I love it when our so sweet and shy Baby has such nasty and indecent fantasies in his head... why don’t you tell us these ideas in every single filthy detail once again? I think we could turn the information into some very good use, big boy~”, whispers the smaller one with blown-out eyes against your lips.

“...or would you prefer that we call you a needy cumslut, hm? The things I’ve heard give me the assumption that you want to get fucked stupid and pumped full with cum as if you are our personal playtoy?”, growls Jungkook and grabs himself a handful of your right asscheek, kneading it with a firm grip in his big palm. 

“Come on, big boy, admit that you want exactly the things Jungkook just said... I can feel how fucking hard you just got from his words... already so hard and swollen against my palm even though we barely touched you. You’re truly such a pathetic, needy slut... I bet you’d already cum in your pants if we just tease you enough... Am I right?”, chuckles Namjoon in his deep, arousal soaked timbre against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot of your Adam’s apple. 

“...what about we change our location to the bedroom and talk about the things you’ve said to Y/BF/N? Maybe we could try some of your newest kinks out? Would you like the thought of us watching you from the couch while you prepare your needy asshole for us? Showing us how you stuff you clenching rim with a girthy dildo? Wearing a cockring so you couldn’t cum without our permission? Prepping yourself all messy, whining for our finger, tongues and dicks in your ass like the greedy slut you are? Yeah, you’d love that thought.”, Seokjin teases you mercilessly, rolling your sensitive balls in his palm, just how you like it.  “Y-Yes, Daddies... I’d love to be a greedy cumslut for you... please turn me into one!”, you wisper. 

@cys-mental-escapades​; @bangtanloverboys​; @btsxmalereaders​

[seijohsbabe]

Reward

Ship: Oikawa, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Iwaizumi x Reader

Wordcount: 2,9 k

Tw: smut, pet names, overstimulation, abuse/rape (Reader kinda likes it ??), noncon

a/n: im so dumb ive deleted the old post so I have to repost it sorry guys :( If you have ideas for a next story, my inbox is open!

Nervously you looked to the ground. The mood was bad. More than logical, because the team you have been with for a long time has just lost to Seijoh.

 But not only that made you look to the ground, there were four glances that made you tremble, and you knew exactly from who they were coming from and why. Your bet with you, which you had not really agreed but refusing with the four was no possibility. After your transfer to Karasuno, you were hoping to finally have some rest from the four. You were Oikawa's girlfriend, but his three friends also had a say. After you gathered your courage and broke up with him, it was far from over. They chased you, humiliated you, reached for you like you were a simple doll to them. Your move to Karasuno was like a glimmer of hope for you.

But only after 5 days they found you again, and drummed into you their bet to destroy Karasuno and take you as a prize. And here you were, on the bench, stunned, staring at the ball that practically meant your death. Shimizu, who was sitting next to you, noticed your trembling and held your hands with downcast eyes. But she didn't know a bit whatyou will expect now. You quickly tried to pack all your things and get back on the bus as quickly as possible. And you almost thought you had made it when you ran down the hall to get to the exit, but a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a room that you actually wanted to walk past. The room turned out to be a locker room. The door slammed behind you and you got pushed right against it.The four pairs of eyes that you actually no longer wanted to see were now right in front of you. 

Oikawa who was still pressing you against the door let you go slowly to take a step back, to your surprise. With an all too familiar grin, he looked down at you, just like the other three who were just a few steps behind Oikawa. Only now do you really realize how big they were again, how much stronger they were. You can just grab yourself so easily without you doing anything. "Lil cutieee." Oikawa said first. His voice made you tremble and crouch. You know exactly why they dragged you in here, but you couldn't have it that real. Iwaizumi, who so far has only been against one without comment Was leaning against the wall, with crossed arms, now pushed off to slowly approach you. "Can you still remember? Our little agreement? We want our price." What can you do It was hopeless, you were trapped in the wolves' den as a little rabbit. But you still had one option. Your gaze slid briefly next to you, where the door handle was. Oikawa hadn't locked it. You quickly grabbed the door handle and tear open the door to get out of this cave. But Iwaizumi must have noticed your gaze and no sooner had you opened the door than he reached for you and slammed the door with his foot. Your back was now pressed against his chest, and your hands were tied tightly to your body, his hands completely encircling you. "I would give myself up." He whispered in your ear. And with that your last hope was gone.

Matsukawa was now in front of you, to put his big hand around your cheek without comment. "Come on, you will surely like it bunny. "

His hand went deeper and deeper until he came to the edge of your t-shirt, which he pulled over your head after Iwaizumi slowly let go of you. They all stood around you like a hunter who had just caught his prey. Somebody loosened your bra from behind, and you were completely free of the upper body. Matsukawa quickly followed, pulling his turquoise white jersey with the number two over his head to show his well-toned upper body. But your hands were still shaking. Suddenly you were pulled along from behind. That someone turned out to be Oikawa, who sat down on a bench and positioned you with your back against his chest.

Hanamaki, who now crouched down in front of you, slowly took off your shoes and training pants, while Oikawa attacked your neck from behind. Unnoticed, you tilted your neck to give it more space. a slight giggle came from his mouth because he knew he had you. Your legs have now been spread apart after your underpants were also taken off. "Oh, already that wet arent you kitten?" Makki grinned with a knowing grin. The other two men had completely undressed in the meantime and were watching this happen while they lazily stroked their cocks up and down.

Makki's finger crossed your lips, which you feel a slight gasp. But Oikawa noticed it and raised his voice. "Oh our lil cutie, so excited for our cocks aren't you?" Your head shook, but the grip on your chest gave you a jerk. Makki lifted your legs to put them on his shoulders. THAT he was with his face right in front of you. You felt his hot breath against your core. And even though you were totally against this one, your hands ran through Makki's strawberry cake colored hair to get him to finally do something. and he knew what you wanted and started to work your cunt. His tongue wandered everywhere. He practically ate you up. But it was a wonderful feeling as Oikawa's hands wandered over your whole body. Little whimpering could no longer be suppressed. Oikawa's hand wandered until he put it around your neck to squeeze lightly, until he then slipped two of his fingers into your mouth and whispered softly in your ear, "Suck" and as obdiently as you were, you did it, which gave you a simple "Good Girl", but those simple words wandered down into your core, where Makki was just still eating until he looked up at some point, chin smeared, and an amused grin on his face. Oikawa's fingers now slid down to play with your cock lips until they sank into you with a jerk. To your despair you had to groan. It was useless, you should enjoy it. And this change probably all noticed, because your grin grew now. Oikawa's pace grew faster and more hectic until you were just a groaning bunch. And just as your walls spasmed uncontrollably around his fingers and your climax was approaching, until his fingers stopped and slipped out of you.

"O-Oi-Oikawa please" you whimpered. But he just giggled. "Its Tooru my lil bunny. But be a good girl and suck my fingers clean." And so you did. Your tongue swirled around his digits, until all was nice and clean. He got up slowly to get you on your feet, but the only shivering. As soon as you were on your feet you threatened to fall over, but Matsukawa caught you directly to lead you two to the ground. He leaned against a wall while positioning you on his thigh with his hands on your hips. The pressure against your cunt was so good that you couldn't stop grind slowly against his thigh. But you couldn't do it for long, because he held you tight with his iron grip. ,,issei! Please"

" I have something much better, kitten "With that he lifted you to slide you on his not exactly small penis in one go. Damn, not only its length was too much, from the middle it got thicker and thicker, and you didn't think you could manage everything, your hands were already pressing against his chest until you finally got to the base of his cocks. A loud sigh escaped you. But before you could even open your eyes again, he lifted you up again to lead you back down in a train.

And with that this knot of pleasure tore and your climax came with a jolt. Your eyes rolled backwards, a scream left your mouth, your body ran out of strength, and your head rested on Matssun's shoulder. But he was just getting started. He took your buttocks and now moved his hips with incredible speed. "I-Issei- I can't take it anymore please" you whined. "Oh come on, one more baby." And suddenly you felt a second figure appear behind you. Your head turned wearily to look at Makki's face. He positioned himself under your second hole. "Please no more no-" "Aw come on, bunny your gonna feel amazing, just relax alright?" And very slowly you felt how he was advancing, slower than Matssun, but the pain was there anyway. To be completely filled was a strange feeling, but it was still exciting in a way. This time at a slow pace they moved the two in and out. You felt the two next to each other, separated from just one wall. The knot grew again. Completely blown away in ecstasy, you did not notice how someone was standing next to you three until your hand, which until then was still on Issei's shoulder, was placed around a cock. It was the brown-haired wing spiker iwaizumi with a small grin around the corner of his mouth. "Don't mind helping me a little my dear?" Your senses were completely gone, but you tried to drive up and down with slow movements. Swear words and moans escaped him again and again. You looked at him, his lust contorted face, until your face was turned with one hand to the other side. Oikawa looked down at you, and you knew exactly what he wanted. In one go you took him up to your throat. But it wasn't enough, it was still a few centimeters You wanted to take your head back again and start a new attempt, but your head was held tight by Oikawa. While Matssun and Makki kept going out and in, and their thrusts became more and more targeted, you had to choke Oikawa's length. He tried to push the last few centimeters in.

"Come on baby, you can do it. Yeah just like that, FUCK!" his head leaned back while his hands were still in your - now - totally confused hair. ,, Youre doing so fine bunny, next time we will destroy Karasuno a second time, a-and fuck, and next time you should come on time. Alright? "The question was hypothetical because your mouth was still around his cock. Another hard nudge from Makki tightened your throat and Oikawa howled loudly.

" Fuck do that again. " And so you did, because you didnt want to make him angry, not in that position that your in right now. Your head was finally let go. The spit ran from your mouth down to your chin to your bust. "You look so beautiful, our lil cumslut." Matssun growled, while he used a harder and faster pace with Makki. They came closer and closer to their climax, because you felt them twitching inside you. And you too came closer and closer The pressure that Matssun now put on your clit almost bursts your knot. Only a small piece was missing. "Plea-Please, I-Issei, Makki, I wanna cum please!" Did you cry now? You will regret it in retrospect, but you didn't care about anything at the moment, because the climax was within reach. Makki came first, and sank his seeds in a hard thrust in you, and waited a while until he was sure that every mililiter was in you. Now Matssun could lift you up slightly to hammer into you. The knot burst, the tears just ran from your eyes. "Too much, too much" you mumbled, due to the overstimulation. After a short time Issei came deep inside you and also made sure not to waste a mililiter. After Issei pulled herself out of you, you felt so empty. It was embarrassing, what would Dachi Kyooko or even suga say? They would cast you out. You are sleeping here with four of their arch enemies. Especially one of them, they probably all hated. You had never told them what you and Oikawa were too embarrassed about you the whole thing. And now see where you have landed. While you were not only crying from the overstimulation on the cold floor of the locker room and the cum of the two men just ran out of you, two strong arms lifted you up. But he just picked you up while he whispered in your ear: "Oh one round baby, you cant let us two all high and dry hmm?" And with that you were put on Oikawa who looked at you with a big grin. " Please, I cant tak it anymore guys.

But the two ignored your protests and penetrated you at the same time.

"Oh you can, and you will." Oikawa said while he slipped into you. Your whimper could be heard outside but there was definitely nobody there, the games are over and everyone is gone.

Your hands pressed against Oikawa's chest as you continued to protest. "Oika-" But you didn't get far because he muted you with a hard thrust.

"Call me right princess."

"Tooru, please."

,, Good girl, your so brave. come on we make it fast hmm? "

And that's where real hell began. The two went in and out alternately. Building the third orgasm was bad. You felt everything. Every vein of its length penetrating your walls. While you were wondering where they got all their power from, Oikawa pulled you down to share a lovely, almost beautiful kiss with you, but you knew what was behind this facade. The devil himself, with three helpers by his side. his tongue rammed into your mouth and quickly got the more dominant one.

When Iwaizumi also marked your neck, you had to groan again. The grip of iwaizumi on your hip got tighter, and you are sure that it would leave its mark tomorrow. After they both broke up, their pace picked up again. However, when Oikawa briefly repositioned himself a little, he hit exactly this point with the next hit, the point that got you around every time, and made you see stars. Of course, Oikawa noticed this immediately and rammed into it with all his strength.

a loud fuck escaped you while you felt the two getting closer and closer. Their lengths twitched in you. Your climax was probably not far away either, but you weren't really excited about it. He will rob your last strength that was left to you. "Fuck your so tight-" Oikawa hissed now, until you felt the final snap and the load he send inside of you.

And right after Iwas fast snap of his hips your knot of lust loosened and pelted down on you twisted, your strength that somehow left you on top went from you and with that you hit oikawa's shoulder. Your arms and legs were shaking, and you only felt Iwa pulling out of you. He must have come too. Your senses are like Blown away, you only felt the cold ground below you after Oikawa got up. You should also walk slowly, you didn't want to be around this monster any more, but your legs were shaking, so you read yourself on the bench fall, cum slowely dripping out of you. ,, Princess get these on, you don't want our gift to be lost. " He threw your underpants at you, but you'd rather wash yourself. He noticed your reluctance and raised his voice. ,,Now" With trembling hands you put on all your clothes, but Oikawa didn't throw you your top but his white turquoise jersey with the number 1.

,, uhm, Tooru, you gave me your top. "

He just laughed. ,, Of course honey, everybody should see who you belong to. Since you knew that there would be no point in protesting, you put on the slightly too large jersey.

"Oh you look adoreable!" But you just felt how all the cum flowed out of you. He put an arm around you to leave the lockeroom with you. The others are probably already before. But when you got closer to your team , they looked angrily at the one standing next to you, then at the all-too-familiar top what you were wearing.

,,Sorry people i spilled water on my top and then slipped. Luckily Oi- "you noticed the slight pressure on your hip, a sign." Tooru there. " you looked up at him with your eyes until he spoke.

"Oh yeah, your little manager chan is very clumsy, better take care of her." As he turned to leave, he whispered in your ear without anyone seeing, "Next time, you will come twice as much princess . We will not lose. " And with that he disappeared, leaving you alone with the team, while thousands of thoughts buzzed through your head about how you could escape him.

[jincherie]

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga​​ ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.  

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare. 

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword. 

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life. 

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.    

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching. 

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from. 

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse. 

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now. 

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably. 

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it. 

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment. 

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting. 

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.  

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely. 

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising.  “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way. 

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip.  The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him. 

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does. 

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not. 

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can. 

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features. 

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events. 

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls. 

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel. 

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane. 

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here. 

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics. 

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts. 

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing. 

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes. 

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does. 

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour. 

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there. 

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier. 

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death. 

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this. 

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

 …You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride.  “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch. 

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know. 

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself. 

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone. 

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing. 

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly. 

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten. 

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches  and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics. 

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations. 

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It��s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think. 

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped. 

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

[veliseraptor]

Top 5 fics/characters/scenes that were hard to write for whatever reason, but u pulled thru :)

this is such an encouraging ask, thank you! it is a nice reminder that I can write things, actually, even when it is hard. I went with fics because that is easiest to remember, but lord are there for sure characters it’s a bear to write. I am fundamentally a coward who generally just tries to avoid those, though.

1. The Compassion of the Wicked. Writing Lymond fic is like pulling teeth. It just is. It’s hard and it’s slow and it’s often painful and usually I can end up with something I’m proud of, eventually, but it feels like I wrung blood from a stone doing it. Even more than gather frankincense that was true of this fic, I think partly because it was an interesting experiment in “how do I write threesome smut in a voice that fits with the overall tone of this fic” and what I ended up with was mostly the most allusive smut scene I’ve ever written and probably ever will write.

Also had to figure out writing Joleta! That was another piece of this fic - she was a character who didn’t come as naturally to me in terms of writing as (relatively speaking) Lymond and Gabriel both do.

2. we live until we die. The most ambitious crossover ever! aka when you build an 850,000 word edifice of AU and then you have to confront a culminating plot moment you’ve been building toward in the wake of two movies that left a lot of people very unhappy, juggling an enormous cast of characters and a snarl of continuity created over the course of six years of haphazard worldbuilding done in fits and starts, involving heavy doses of things like “plot” and “action” - god but this fic fought me! It took me, what, eight months to write? Not including the bits I wrote five years ago, I’m not counting that. But yeah, getting this fic to the finish line was a bear and a half. Ultimately I’m pretty pleased with what came out, barring a few sections I just don’t look at too closely, I feel like I more or less stuck the landing, which was the assignment I set myself here. And if I don’t end up going back to this verse (though I’d like to!) I feel good about where I’ve left it.

3. With Absolute Splendor. sometimes a person gets an ask that they take as a prompt even though it was meant for a five headcanons meme and then that person runs away with that prompt and it grows into this massive animal that provokes fits of mild hysterics over fears of having dealt with everything adequately, and are all the loose ends under control, and oh no a piece of editing feedback that gives me the overpowering urge to scrap all 120 pages of the damn thing--

Anyway, while this fic might well end up going down as the most popular thing I’ve written, second only to Life in Reverse which has several years on it, it was a lot of sweat and blood and tears getting there, particularly in the editing process, where I went through an aggressive bout of sturm and drang and self-doubt over a few things about it that had me pitching one of my periodic WELL MAYBE I SHOULD JUST DELETE THE WHOLE THING fits. But hey! It got posted, and it certainly seems to have gone over well so far!

4. we’re not friends, we’re strangers with memories. I was writing this one concurrently with Life in Reverse but in some ways I think it was harder, for a couple different reasons. One is just the fact that it was my first really long and ambitious fic that I’d...ever written, at the time. (Prior to this one I think the longest fic I’d written was After Life, Death which actually did almost match this one for word count, apparently. But that was in 2010.)

The second is the fact that as I was writing I had no idea where I was going for a good...first half of the fic, and then I knew where I was going (that Loki was going to die) but had no idea how I was going to get there. I was fumbling around trying to write myself through a dark forest, which at this point is pretty normal for me but back then with my prior experience largely being oneshots it involved a lot of screaming.

But I did manage to write through it and finish the damn thing! And while I don’t know if I could reread it without wincing (I haven’t tried) I feel like it mostly did what I wanted it to do at the time. And I’m still very proud of that last couple of chapters.

5. how this grace thing works. This fic took me years to write because I took a long pause in the middle where I got stalled and then drifted away from the books and then had to come back for a reread before I finished it, and I think what got in the way here was a lot of ‘this is nice and I feel weird about it’ which is a feeling that happens to me sometimes if I write something that feels like it’s...on the sweeter and lighter side. It feels weird and sort of wrong and therefore I start to think it must be bad.

I don’t know either, this does seem like it has some unfortunate implications for my state of mind but you know what.

runners up for this could’ve included almost any fic I wrote, especially ones longer than 10k where I almost always hit my crisis about how it’s bad and worthless and I should just give up. the vast majority of my writing attacks me like an overstimulated cat at some point during the process.

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 71

Warning: 🥵🥵🥵

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. | Tag lists are closed | INBOX OPEN

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 71: The Answers You Were Seeking

The ship came into the hangar, so you were finally back on the Supremacy. You attempted to get up, but your legs were failing you. This amused your guard dog. He came face to face with you, “Does Kitten need help?” He seemed to enjoy teasing you.

You just held your arms out in a silent demand. Enjoying the feeling of him picking you up in his strong arms. Inhaling his natural scent as you tucked your face into his neck to hide from the outside world. You wanted to stay in your little bubble with him for as long as possible. “If I am an Empress, shouldn’t I be carried everywhere, always?” You imagined him carrying you.

He chuckled, “That can be arranged if you want it, but you other royal carriers might disappoint you.” You felt his hands shift, holding you more securely against his chest as he entered the hallway.

As much as you tried hiding your face and avoiding the people you could hear them shuffling out of the way and saying “Supreme Leader” and “Empress.” You just wanted him to look at you, him alone. You were his, and no one else’s. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you entered your chambers.

Instead of heading directly to the bedroom, he brought you into the dining room where dinner was waiting for you. It was at that moment that you realized that you had worked up quite an appetite. Your nerves from before your consummation had completely dissipated. He set you down, in front of a glorious-looking feast. “I thought that a little Kitten like you would be hungry after playing with her guard dog.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he teased you.

You tried to put a poker face as you teased him back, “We didn’t exactly play.” No, you didn’t play, not per se.

“Didn’t you have fun,” it was more of a tease than a question. He knew the answer, but you two were just in a rather flirty mood.

“Oh, I had more than fun.” It’s true you did have more than just fun.

He leaned forward and scooped you up into his arms and onto his lap, “You’re too far away. You’re a Kitten that is meant to curl up on my lap.” He buried his head into the crook of your neck, delicately kissing the bruised skin there.

You chuckled at his neediness, “And who set me down there, hmm?” You buried your face into his chest. For the next hour, you spent time feeding each other, slowly with many kisses exchanged for bites of food. Once finished his hands roamed your body while your arms were wrapped around his neck. A hand made its way down to your bruised heat, testing the delicate flesh. You winced and whimpered at the feeling, still sore from you earlier escapades.

You could see Kylo contemplating your reaction to his touch. “We’ll have to get some bacta on that if we want to have any more playtime tonight.” He grazed his nose against you affectionately. He then carried you into the bathroom and set you on the vanity where he untied your dress, exposing you to him. He reached behind you and into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of what you assumed to be bacta. It was a warm liquidy, gelly substance that he carefully applied to your bruised cunt.

You thought the sensation to be rather unpleasant. It wasn’t like lube, but more like aloe slathered everywhere down there making you feel rather gross and not quite sticky. “When should I be healed enough?” You had no idea how this worked. This was an entirely new concept for you.

He thought for a moment before responding. “An hour to two max. You aren’t bleeding and as far as I can tell you haven’t torn anything, just bruised and overstimulated. It’s best to let it work undisturbed so, for now, we will have to do something else.” He then carried you out of the bathroom with your dress still hanging open. His eyes seemed to dance across your marked flesh as he took you upstairs to the lounge where you both settled down on a couch.

His arms wrapped around you keeping your against him, hands teasing and ghosting over your bruises. Almost as if he was silently worshiping you, appreciating the offerings he had left all over your body. You had a couple of hours to kill before you went back to your rounds of lovemaking. “Can you tell me why you didn’t tell me that making me Empress meant that we were going to get married? Because you just up and left before explaining that.” You wanted some answers, you just hope you could tiptoe around him so you wouldn’t ignite his anger.  

His fingers wrapped themselves in your hair, his palm against your skull, and his lips against your temple. “Because I thought you might say no, so I didn’t ask. I was worried you would leave me Kitten, and then I would have no one to guard.” You could hear the hint of fear and sadness still lingering in his voice. You were the only thing he truly had in this galaxy. You knew it would devastate you as much as him if either of you left. It was better to be bound to each other than to live without the other half to your soul.

You turned your head and tilted up to kiss him, “I’ll accept that answer.” More kisses before asking, “How did your fight with the scavenger go? I watched the transmission, but I want to know how you thought it went and what your feelings are.” You knew there was much more to the fight than what you saw in the transmission. You knew there was a bit more to their ‘relationship’ in general that he hasn’t told you yet.

He let out a deep sigh as he turned to look away from you, to look at the ceiling while lost in thought. “It wasn’t easy trying to find her. Her friends tried to stay one step ahead of us and it worked until it didn’t.” You now fully turned to face him.

“The fight itself wasn’t that difficult until the defective stormtrooper shot at me and distracted me. She stabbed me, but she did not hit any vital organs thankfully. Managing to impale me between my liver and stomach. But as you can see I am alright…” he then trailed off as if lost in thought.

You brought a hand up to caress his face, trying to bring his attention back. “But what about her motivation? She wanted you to join her, to leave me.” You almost wish the vision in front of your blaster was actually her, so you could have killed her instead of him. He has already seen lifetimes of battles and death, and you just wished you could take just one away from him, to save him from that pain.

His voice became slightly agitated, “Yes, its true she wanted him to join her, but I didn’t want to. The only person I want in the universe is you. She believed she knew Ben Solo, but she didn’t because he still wanted you, he would have never have gone with her if it meant losing you. She was lost in her own delusion. I, Kylo Ren, have always wanted you, and just you.” His confession made your heart soar. You rolled onto your side and rested your head against his chest. Showing him how much you cared.

“I’ve always wanted you too. It’s why I am here, it’s why I have stayed. I don’t want anyone else.” You felt his hand rub up and down your back, making you feel all warm inside. You hated that you needed to break this tender moment with another heavy subject, but if you didn’t do so now, you don’t know when you would be able to get the chance again.

“But what about your mother? She just wanted her son to come home.”

You could see his demeanor shift, this wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to have, “In the end, it was something I would always have to do. It was always going to be Ben Solo or myself. She knew this too. She lost her son long ago, this was just the final act. In the end, I think she realized that I am still her son. She and Han Solo may have been gifted Ben Solo, but Kylo Ren is the man they made.” You could hear the anger and hurt in his voice even if you weren’t looking at his face. The man lying next to you had killed both of his parents, to be with you, to make Kylo Ren triumphant.

Your memory recalled her words, her warning, “But what was she saying about this not being the last of it? What is coming?” To say you were worried was an understatement.

He peered down at you, his eyes were like black steel with his brows furrowed and his lips hard in a solid line, “I do not exactly know yet, but I feel it in the Force. Something powerful has awoken, and I need to stop it, to protect you.” His hands grabbed your face, “I will protect you. I had a feeling on Mustafar that a key might be there, I will find it. I will find out who it is, end them and I will protect you.”

His reassurances were sexy, something about his need to keep you safe was something that aroused you. Which wasn’t a great feeling at the moment, as your wetness mixed with the gell and made you uncomfortable. You whimpered at the feeling, your belly warm but your brain disgusted. This caused Kylo to reach between your legs, testing the tissue there and it seemed to pass inspection as there was no more pain. Only a pleasured gasp escaped your lips as his fingers stroked you. “Hmm, it seems like you are ready to go Kitten. Shall I go clean you up so we can play again?” You let out a whimper in response, as his fingers still roamed your heated flesh.

He picked you up and carried you down to the bedroom instead of the bathroom. He set you down on the bed and left you to walk into the bathroom. Your body did not like the separation from him, as you whined as he left you. He turned on a switch in your brain which caused you to be needy for his touch. He returned with a damp washcloth and proceeded to wipe away the bacta, his stokes and attention to detail caused your slick to almost gush out of you at the attention. You rolled your hips up trying to cause friction, this caused him to chuckle. “Needy aren’t we Kitten?” You heard a wet slap as the washcloth was abandoned on the floor.

He quickly lifted you, ridding you of the wrap dress entirely before his fingers began to massage your clit in circular motions. Your hips attempting to follow his rhythm. “Can we try something Kitten?” He seemed to be the coherent one between the two of you. All you could do was nod in response, words failing you.

His touch ceased on your clit, on your cunt all together, which caused you to cry out in frustration. But then he brought your wrist to his lips. His name was now being kissed and sucked like the many, many love bites that littered your body. Suddenly it was if your body didn’t need anything else. You cunt seemed to pulse in pleasure at the sensation. Reacting as if the most wonderful touches were being performed on you, but they weren’t. Kylo was just nipping and sucking on his name on your wrist. It was like the ultimate key to getting you to orgasm as it didn’t take long before you were seeing stars. Your back arching as you came, Kylo’s name on your lips. You felt like you were going to blackout again, but Kylo’s lips on yours brought you back from the edge of it.

It took you a few minutes to regain full consciousness again, full coherence. When you did you threaded your hands into those dark raven locks and deepened the kiss rolling your hips up to meet his, which somehow were now completely bare. In your lack of awareness, he stripped down to his nakedness and your hips rolled up to meet his hardening cock. “That was amazing,” you said rather out of breath.

A smirk graced your lover’s face, “Mmm I could tell.” His hand reached back down to your now messy cunt, “You are absolutely sopping wet Kitten.” He kissed you hard, as one of his fingers entered your wet hole, earning a moan from you. “I guess we shall have to do that often. But let’s see if you can return the favor.”

He flipped you both over; you were now straddling his thighs, his cock in front of you. You saw its angry red, swollen head, and the shine of pre-cum on the tip. You wanted to eat it rather than ignore it, but he brought his wrist to your lips. You were supposed to mark your name as he did his. And you complied.

Kylo hissed in pleasure at the sensation, his hips rolling up, his dick bouncing. You continued to lick, nibble, and suck on your name. You even went as far as tracing the letters with your tongue. If you thought you were a mess, then he was a disaster. Moaning and panting your name and nickname. His hips trying to find fiction for his cock. It didn’t take long for his hips to stutter and his cum to shoot out in pulses as he orgasmed. Your name a shout on his lips, his voice haggard. His cum painted both of your chests with the splattery aftermath.

You decided to be a lady and clean his semi-soft cock with your tongue before you traveled up to his chest, rubbing your breasts against his, smearing the milky white substance. When you were satisfied with the completion of yours and his painting you licked up the evidence from his chest before flopping down next to him and beckoning him to do the same. He took his sweet time as he licked up and down your breasts, making sure both nipples were absolutely glistening with saliva.

One of his fingers tested your hole again as he positioned himself over you. “Mmm Kitten, you will be the death of me,” he said as he pushed his index finger into you, to his knuckle. He hooked into you and teased your walls.

You moaned back. “Death by sex doesn’t sound so bad to me,” you mused as he plunged another finger in you, trying to get you ready to fully take him again. Without this prep, you would surely tear right in two.

You heard him chuckle, the sound you loved so much, the sound you were pretty sure you were the only one who got to hear it on such a regular basis. “I suppose you’re right. If I had to choose how to go out. Dying with my cock buried in your tight cunt would be the best way.” His voice was sultry now, a velvety sort of sex that could get you to do almost anything.

It didn’t take long for him to get you ready. Your body responds quickly because he was right, you were made for him. He lined himself up once more, teasing you with his engorged head, just pushing your flaps around and only putting the tip in. “Please, just fuck me Kylo. I can’t take it anymore,” you whined earning a quick deep thrust from his hips, fully sheathing himself in you. You threw your head back in pleasure and released a loud moan.

It didn’t take very long for him to pick up a steady rhythm of his hips snapping consistently. You attempted to help him by meeting his thrusts, but he was buried so deep inside you it didn’t really matter. “So…  tight..” was what he struggled to get out as his thrusting deepened. You could feel his cock twitching between your walls of pleasure. Enjoying the feeling of being fully engulfed in your heat.

You attempted to respond to him, “So… BIG,” you shouted as he found that spot, your g spot. The head of his cock relentlessly pounding into it, causing you to see stars. His pace and power only picked up as he was locked on target. The sounds of skin slapping and panting filling up the room.

You could feel the orgasm starting, “Kylo…. I’m…” you couldn’t even get the words out. Your brain was a solid clump of mush. He was almost literally fucking your brains out.

His thrusts causing the bed to quiver. “Cum with me,” his voice was thick with ecstasy. You followed orders as your walls clamped around him, his hips stuttering. His panting and moaning almost overriding yours as you came together. Eventually both your hips stopped as you both exhausted your energy, reveling in the orgasm together. Kylo collapsed on top of you, keeping his dick inside you, something you didn’t know you liked until he did it the first time. Your cunt being very happy at not being left empty. Loving the feeling of the weight of his dick inside of you. You also enjoyed the post-sex lazy kisses that he seemed to give you. A silent thank you for giving him his orgasm like you were a goddess blessing his fields with rain.

The next few days were filled with work and plenty of sex. Adlez and Olivia-Rose were rather pleased and horrified at the state of you in the morning. Kylo and you had another few wonderful rounds of sex. Your body looked more bruised than alright, but you assured them that it was fine. Three days after your wedding night, Kylo got a call to return to Mustafar, something there needed his attention. Something you wished would just disappear.

A/N: So....I take it y’all like smut? 

[edwinmuch]

overachiever ✧ {zion}

summary: in which straight A student riley takes a break from her procrastinating to help pretty boy zion with more than just his homework

author’s note: @softhottie‘s submission for @temperaryheart‘s 700 follower challenge! literally posting on the last day but better late than never, right? (haven’t written for leisure in a while so fair warning)

prompt: prettymuch lyric (bolded)

warnings: mention of drugs, smut (oral, daddy kink, overstimulation, edging)

word count: 3.5k

No on-campus college experience is complete without the following things: sleepless coffee-driven nights, at least one blackout drunk party experience, and a casual hookup or two. Third year Sociology major Zion could definitely say he’s checked off all of the above (several times, he might add). He was especially well-versed in the collegiate sport of hooking up. In fact, he would probably be considered something of an MVP. He’s had his fair share of players in his game. But like with any sport, it takes strategy. There was a secret artform to finding the most opportune times for intimacy when in college. Shared rooms and thin walls don’t exactly allow for privacy, especially when the room in question is shared with a nosy Italian business major named Nick.

This is why Zion decided to make every second count when he discovered his best friend and roommate Nick would be out of their dorm room for a few hours. According to Nick, his abnormal psychology midterm was “going to be the death of him.” It was his last exam before finals week, and he knew he couldn’t afford to fail so he announced that he would be spending that entire Thursday evening in the library studying for it. Zion tried to hide his excitement at his friend’s departure.

“Damn bro, that sucks. Happy studying though,” he managed to utter on Nick’s way out, feigning concern.

When the door finally shut, it took him all of 30 seconds to dial up his favorite girl as of late: Riley Williams, this fiery Women’s and Gender Studies major who resided in his building on the floor above his. They had met in his 10AM sociology class about two and a half months ago. She was hard not to notice when her hand shot up for almost every question, portraying herself as someone who obviously reads over the required text after class. But unlike others, Zion actually paid more attention to her cute tendency to absentmindedly let her pen linger between her glossy lips when she found herself concentrating deeply and her seemingly never-ending collection of flattering outfits. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way her curves looked in one of her cropped cardigan and plaid mini skirt ensembles or the hypnotizing glint of her signature “B-A-B-Y” silver link necklace that adorned her collarbones so well. Despite her engagement in class and endearing mannerisms, she still came off as standoffish, working alone during paired in-class assignments and rolling her eyes at less than intelligent answers from other students in response to the professor’s questions. But, after the fourth lecture of her sitting in her unassigned assigned seat next to his, he decided to take a chance and strike up a conversation, relieved to be met with her dimpled, wide tooth smile; the rest was history.

He doesn’t really know how their current arrangement really came to be. It started off as occasional study sessions in Zion’s room since she obviously knew her material. Then, it had quickly become invitations to binge-watch Bojack Horseman, a show Riley prided herself on introducing to him, or to share a blunt with him and Nick at the end of a particularly stressful school week. But eventually, a few lines had blurred when an innocent smoke sesh (sans Nick) had a salacious end involving her on all fours and her clothes long discarded on his bedroom floor. With this new dynamic between them, he’s made a habit of calling or texting her when late night thoughts of her became too enticing to resist. He hadn’t been hitting her line lately though, the stress of studying for exams and completing assignments keeping them apart. But with midterm season coming to a close and Nick finally being out of his hair, the eager boy was aching to finally invite his favorite girl over once again.

“Hey Z. What’s up?” Riley answered on the second ring, the mellifluous sound of her voice already getting him worked up.

“Hey beautiful. So, Nick is out of the room for tonight,” Zion boasted, the smirk on his face apparent even through the phone.

She waited for him to continue, thinking there was more, but he never did.

“…Okay, and? What’s that gotta do with me? Why should I drop everything to help you get a nut? I’m in the middle of writing a paper, you know,” she replied as she flicked through Netflix titles. He didn’t need to know that her “paper writing” actually equated to television streaming. Her point still stands.

“Babyyy come on, stop playin’,” he whined, “You know, I’m never selfish. Besides, the post-nut clarity of an orgasm or two will help you focus on your paper. Just gimme an hour, please?”

“Ugh I don’t know.” Although the specificities of their current relationship (or situationship, rather) had never been fully discussed, Riley must admit his sweet delivery of “baby” really made her insides scramble. At this point, she was ready to be laid up in Zion’s bed (preferably under him), especially since she wasn’t actually doing anything productive anyway, but she was also ready to hear him beg for it.

“Please baby, it’s been weeks since I’ve had you to myself. I’ll make it worth your while. Nick’s probably gonna be gone most of the night too so when you show up, m’gonna put this time to use,” the insatiable boy persuaded, the seductive rasp of his voice prominent in his last few words.

“Welllll, when you put it like that,” she began, smiling to herself as she was almost able to hear Zion’s excitement through the phone, “I’ll be there in 20.”

~~~

Riley stepped off the elevator and trodded down the RA-decorated hallway in her pink fuzzy slides to Zion’s dorm room door where she placed a soft knock. She barely had time to collect herself before the door swung open revealing a shirtless Zion leaning against the doorframe, his platinum-dyed dreads braided back into two cornrows and his dark gray cotton sweatpants hanging low enough to reveal almost the entirety of his happy trail. He wasted no time pulling her into the room. She couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face at her observation of the atmosphere Zion had created for her. His Himalayan salt lamp lit the room up in a sensuous coral hue while Next Town Down’s Lovers Theme (Interlude) played in the background.

“Next Town Down, huh?” she teased with a quirk of her lips, knowing she put him on to the musical group.

Zion smiled down at her with a set of dimples to match her own. “Yeah I know you like them. Thought it might help put you in the mood,” he shrugged smugly with his devilish smile still present on his face.

“Oh please! I know you bump them when I’m not around,” she giggled, poking him in his chest as she made her point.

“Yeah whatever,” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips. He slowly backed them up towards his plush loveseat in the corner of the room. Once the back of his calves touched the suede material of the couch, he plopped onto the cushion. Riley followed suit, climbing onto his lap with her knees digging into the cushion on either side of him and her freshly manicured hands finding their way wrapped behind his head.

Zion made sure the dainty girl was comfortable in his lap before his large hands snaked up her luscious thighs, rubbing her up and down before finding their place on her derrière with a squeeze.

“Mmm I missed you baby.”

“Oh really? How much?” she whispered in his ear, sending chills up his spine.

“Don’t worry, imma show you.” And with that, he started his determined campaign on her neck, kissing up the area of exposed flesh even going as far as to flick his tongue out as he reached her jawline. She pulled away for a moment to slip her cropped sweatshirt over her head, fluffing out the resultant curls of her day old twist out once it passed over her head. She was left with nothing covering her upper half as she had made the deliberate decision not to wear bra to come over.

She couldn’t contain the soft moans and content sighs that escaped her lips. As he sponged wet kisses to the sensitive spot under her earlobe and his nimble fingers worked her hardening nipples, she instinctively ground her hips into his for some added friction between them.

“Need these off you too ma,” Zion whispered, snapping the waistband of her sweat shorts. And with no hesitation she complied, getting up briefly to slide them down her supple legs. She silently thanked herself for her lingerie selection; the pink and navy blue lace of her panties graciously highlighted the warm bronze undertones of her golden brown skin as well as the generous curve of her ass.

She sunk back down onto his lap, hands carefully placed on his shoulders as she returned to grinding against Zion’s ever hardening member with a little more fervor. Before the boy could utter another word, Riley pressed her lips against his in a feverish kiss.

Zion reciprocated with the same amount of enthusiasm, accepting every sloppy collision of their tongues and sensuous bite of his bottom lip with a gratified squeeze of her thigh with one hand and a rub of her lower back with the other. She quickly began her descent down his neck. Nipping, licking, sucking from his jawline to his collarbone.

A lazy smile crept upon Zion’s face as a chuckle passed his lips. “For someone who ain’t even wanna come over here, you sure are eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” she smiled against his skin, “Listen, you promised me ‘an orgasm or two’ and I intend on getting it.”

“And I’m a man of my word baby girl.” And with that challenge, Zion hooked his strong hands under Riley’s thick thighs and hoisted her from the couch, allowing her to lock her legs around his torso. Without pulling their lips away from each other, Zion walked them to his extra large twin sized bed.

He lowered her onto the bed so that her legs dangled off the end. He slinked between her legs before dropping to his knees in front of her. Riley rose off the bed slightly to lean back on her elbows; she watched as he ran his soft hands up her awaiting thighs, never losing eye contact as he did so. His nimble fingers stopped at the elastic waistband of her panties. He smirked as he mentally took note of the ever-growing wet spot in its crotch area before deftly slipping the cloth barrier down her legs and onto the carpeted floor.

“Mmm so wet for me baby,” he wasted no time hooking her legs onto his shoulders.

“Just for you,” she breathed out as a shuddered moan while Zion left lingering kisses up her inner thigh until he reached her throbbing center. He hovered there for a bit, blowing lightly against her folds. She hissed at the sudden cold air hitting her soaking cunt.

“God Zion, do something,” she whined, absentmindedly pushing his head further toward the area she needed him most.

Her wish was his command as he kissed and sucked on her folds before dipping his tongue in between them to lick a stripe at her opening. He took this time to admire her and take note of how cute she looked laying there with her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. That’s when his eager tongue found her sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking figure eights into it before sucking.

“Ahh feels so good,” Riley moaned in a whisper, grabbing at his blond locs as he lapped at her bud. Her hips began instinctively lifting slightly off the mattress as she was nearing her peak. Zion’s large hands took hold of them to anchor her and continue his gluttonous feast.

It wasn’t long before she was met with the all too familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach as she gushed into Zion’s awaiting mouth. Her eyes screwed shut and her mouth fell open allowing a loud stream of obscenities to flow from it.

Once her thighs stopped trembling, Zion released their hold from around his neck and rose from his place on his knees. Riley backed up toward the headboard so her entire body could spread across the bed and she could watch Zion’s every move. In two swift motions, Zion’s sweats were removed from his body to reveal that he was wearing nothing else underneath. He crawled on top of her and placed a wet, needy kiss to her lips. He licked into her mouth sloppily, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.  

“What next baby?” he uttered breathily between messy kisses. She placed her hand on his chest to signal for him to pull away for a moment. He complied looking down at her flushed face and swollen lips.

“Can I sit on it?” she said softly in the most innocent tone possible. The sight of her plump lips pulled into a pout and her doe eyes peering up at him through her cascading lashes were enough to make his dick twitch.

“Course baby,” he punctuated his confirmation with a kiss to her lips before climbing off of her and landing on his back. He laid comfortably against his pillow, waiting for her to make her next move.

Riley sat up and swung her leg over his body. She hovered over his length before Zion helped her sink down onto it. She winced at the initial stretch but released a satisfied sigh once she finally bottomed out.

After taking a moment to adjust to his size, she began to rock her hips back and forth. Once she found her rhythm, Zion got comfortable, hands clasped behind his head watching her titties bounce as she moved above him. She placed her palms on his chest to steady herself and give herself more leverage to bounce on him more quickly.

“Fuck Daddy, you feel so good,” she drawled out with each swivel of her hips. She praised herself internally at the coy slip of the pet name, knowing how much it riled him up during their last rendezvous. As she expected, the sweet phrase flicked a switch for the boy whose large hands found themselves grabbing at her sides hungrily. It was always a surprise to him when she was vulgar during sex as she was usually prim and proper in any other scenario, but his surprise was most certainly not a complaint.

“Say that shit again,” he growled, beginning to thrust up into her.

“You f-feel so good insi-ide me, Daddy,” she moaned, falling forward in response to a particularly forceful slap to her ass. Zion took this opportunity to capture one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around her erect little bud.

Riley began to fall apart above him, the sinful sound of their skin slapping against each other and the full feeling of him thrusting into her so deeply were taking their toll on her. She could barely form a coherent sentence through her incessant whimpers.

“So cl- close,” she stuttered, digging her nails into his shoulders as she prepared herself for a second orgasm, the buildup much more intense than the last. She loudly cried out a chant of “Yes daddy”s, uncontrollably clenching around him while he continued to rail into her from below. She rode out her high, the longest she’d had in a while. Before long, she fell forward onto her lover’s chest in exhaustion with a drawn-out exaggerated sigh.

Just as she was ready to roll off of him and call it a night, Zion reached up and grabbed her by the throat, whispering in her ear, “You ready for number 3 baby?”

Her eyes widened as she weakly replied, catching her breath, “You said one or two. I already came twice.”

With a mischievous smirk, Zion eyed her naked body with the same hunger he had when she first walked through the door. “Yeah well I also said I’d make it worth your while. What can I say? I’m an overachiever,” he chuckled darkly, easing her off of his length. She winced at the newfound emptiness.

“All fours for me baby,” he rasped, sitting up and allowing her to spread out on her hands and knees in front of him.

“Yes daddy,” she did as she was told. Her glistening core and the remarkable roundedness of her rump on full display. He palmed a large handful of her ass, earning a sharp inhale from her.

“So good for me baby,” Zion whispered, palming more of her flesh into his hand before winding it back for another good slap across her right buttcheek. She moaned loudly in response, falling forward on her elbows from the impact.

He lined himself up, teasing her entrance. The tickle of his squishy head rubbing against her opening was becoming unbearable as she was aching to be filled up for a second time. At the sound of Riley whimpering with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Zion pushed into her slowly, egged on by her surprised gasp. Just as he was about to fill her to her hilt, he took a moment to admire how he seemed to fit inside her so perfectly, almost as if he was the sword to her sheath.

He started off slow to allow Riley to adjust and to ensure that he didn’t bust immediately. He’d been holding off from his release to make sure his girl had gotten multiple. So, needless to say, he was at risk of busting very soon.

His slow thrusts eventually stilled to a complete halt. Before she could open her mouth to complain, his hand came down to spank her bottom once again. He kneaded the area he just slapped as he grumbled to her, “Throw that shit back for me, mama.” And without skipping a beat, Riley began to rock herself back and forth, allowing her ass to crash against him continuously. The sound of her cheeks clapping against his front and her strangled moans at the feeling of getting herself off on him was like music to his ears.  

“Who’s making you feel this good baby?” Zion questioned with yet another smack to her rear.

“You daddy, only you,” she drawled on, speeding up slightly out of an eagerness to please him.

He was so blown away by her ability to take him so well. But he was not surprised when her movements eventually lost their rhythm, knowing she was probably close to her peak. So in an attempt to regain control, he roughly locked his hands at her hips before ramming into her at a relentless pace.

“Oh my god Zion!” she shouted, leaving her mouth hanging wide open. Her strained cries became louder with every snap of his hips.

If this assault on her insides wasn’t enough, not only did Zion dig his knees further into the sheets, allowing himself to lean back and pound into her at a deliciously pleasurable new angle, but he also skimmed his fingers down her front to ferociously rub circles into her pearl. The sensation was almost too much to bear, especially considering the two orgasms she already had under her belt. Her eyes flew shut as she hit her forearm against the bed repeatedly in a motion that most wrestlers would recognize as a “tap out.”

“Ah fuck, m’not gonna last daddy!” she screamed, legs beginning to quiver.

“Me either baby,” he grunted shortly before she pulsed around him so deliciously, milking him for every hot spurt he had in him.

They languidly rode out their climaxes together until Zion gently pulled out of Riley allowing them both to lay back against his satin pillowcases. She clung to his side nuzzling her face into his chest, appreciative of the post-orgasm high he provided her.

“Okay, ‘Mr. Overachiever’,” Riley sighed, still a bit out of breath as she looked up at him with her bright eyes and lazy smile.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” he hummed, smacking an obnoxious smooch to her cheek, “Where’s your phone? I’m changing my name in your contacts to that right now.”

He eyed her brightly colored, flower pressed phone case from across the room and attempted to climb off the bed to retrieve the girl’s smartphone from the couch where, until that moment, it had been forgotten.

“No, stoppp,” she giggled, slinging her leg across his torso and pushing his shoulders into the mattress before he could even make a move. He playfully grabbed at her waist, tickling her sides to try to overpower her. She squirmed under his grasp.

“Nah, I’m changing that shit. Maybe people will see it and think I’m tutoring you for once. Whatchu think?” he joked, his hearty laugh combining with her pleading giggles.

Their tickle fight continued until it devolved into a soft, comfortably silent cuddle between them, thoughts of paper deadlines or interfering roommates being long forgotten, and Zion wouldn’t have it any other way.

[mikeisthricedeceased]

You’re My Home 3

Catfish x OC

Part 3: Honesty

Word Count: ~3.5k

Part 1  Part 2

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of death, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of drug use, overdose, fluff

A/N: Sorry for the angst. Also for the info-dump of a dating montage. I gotta establish things. They fuck in the next part. Like, a lot.

Summary: They go on a few more dates and its a Montage. Frankie has a bad time in his apartment. Overdose and ER visit. Nita gives Frankie a stern talking-to.

~*~*~*~

Frankie woke up in his room, looking around blearily. He squinted, turning to look at the other side of the bed, only to find it empty.

Huffing out a sigh, he buried his face in his pillow.

She might’ve had work. Or had things to take care of at her place. 

Or she just wanted to leave after he fell asleep because it was clear that nothing was going to happen, even if he had been awake.

It wasn’t fair to think like that. He knew that. It was a reflection of how he was getting into his own head far more than it was a reflection of anything she’d done.

Nita had sprawled out on the couch, leaning into him, head on his chest as they scrolled through movies and shows. She’d done her best to explain some parts of her job or the whole community behind it when they couldn’t find anything else to watch.

They’d spent a long time curled up on the couch and talking about whatever came to mind.

When he had asked her to stay, he hadn’t really been expecting much. After all, even with how much he wanted her, that odd guilt had stayed in the back of his mind.

He could still picture her tired smile as she said, “As long as we can move back to the bed. I don’t think I’ll survive sleeping on a couch for the night.”

She had quickly exchanged her jeans for an old pair of sweatpants he had, which were way too long on her, before slipping under the covers with him.

And now she was gone.

He reached for the phone on his nightstand, lifting it up and squinting. No notifications.

He sank into numbness as he got up, rubbing a hand down his face and shuffling to the bathroom to take a piss.

When he came back out, he headed to the kitchen, walking right past an old set of sneakers with a folded pair of jeans and a bra sitting on top of them.

He was in the middle of a yawn when he stepped into the kitchen and was confronted with the sight of Nita kneeling on top of the counter, a cabinet open next to her as she read the label on a bag of ground coffee.

She looked up when he stopped, giving him a warm smile.

The morning was already far better than he’d been preparing himself for.

~*~*~*~

“And this was right after she was born?” Nita asked.

Frankie smiled. “Yeah, right when they brought her back from being weighed and everything. She was so tiny.”

She looked up from the photo on his phone, placing a hand on his arm. “She’s so beautiful.”

Nita was sitting with her legs thrown across his lap, curled up against the arm of the couch in his living room. One of his hands rested just above her ankle, the other splayed over her thigh.

“She is,” he agreed. “Lana almost had to knock me out to get me to hand her over. As soon as Izzy was in my arms, I never wanted to give her up for anything.” His expression was so soft, bursting with adoration.

Nita chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me, you big softie,” she said, brushing her knuckles along his jaw.

He rolled his eyes, waving her hand away. “Yeah, yeah.” He pointed to the phone in her hands. “If you scroll further down, there should be some more recent pictures. Stuff from her birthday.”

Nita leaned her head against the back of the couch as she looked through the pictures, a small smile on her face that grew whenever she came across a photo of a little girl with cake icing all over her face. “I think it’s safe to say you have the most adorable daughter in the world. At least, in my opinion,” she said, patting his chest and handing him his phone.

He nodded, grinning over at her as he took it. “Oh, I’d have to agree. No contest.” He squeezed her thigh affectionately.

They’d been dating for about a month. It was good. So good. 

Over that month, he’d told her a little bit about the fuckup of a job that went down in South America the year before, and how it had cost them an old friend. How he blamed himself for the crash that made the whole thing go downhill. How he and his buddies had been trying to stay in touch a little more after that, even with how much civilian life kept them apart.

She’d told him about her friend and business partner, Sydney, as well as his husband, Ethan. How they, and the people she worked with, were her family. How her parents had kicked her out and cut her off when she came out after high school and that she had joined the Marines to help pay for college without them. How she hadn’t spoken to them since then. Nothing, in 25 years.

He didn’t think he would have made it as far as he had if he hadn’t had his parents to back him up. He had to give her credit for finding a whole new family and making a life doing what she enjoyed and cared about.

Frankie could feel himself open up to her whenever they went out together or when she came over and they just talked for hours about everything and nothing.

He eventually managed to bring up his struggles with cocaine, terrified of her reaction but more so terrified of the possibility of her finding out some other way.

She’d looked taken aback when he told her. He was ready for her to tell him that she couldn’t be around that, that he had to fix it before he considered dating. It had played a big part in ending his marriage, after all.

She had just looked at him for a few moments. “My assistant, Tiff, takes the key to my home liquor cabinet home with her whenever I start to get too stressed.” Her gaze slid down. “I started giving it to her once we’d gotten a little closer, and I’d told her about how I’d been well on my way to alcoholism before I was even old enough to drink. Joining the military made it worse. It peaked right after I got discharged. That whole clusterfuck tipped me over the edge and I ended up in the ER getting my stomach pumped after a particularly rough night of binge drinking.” She’d shrugged, offering a sad smile. “Started going to therapy after that. It helps. Having friends, too. I won’t pretend to know what it’s like for something like coke, but I imagine there’s some crossover in the reasoning behind it. I wanted to shut things out. The shit with my family. All the stuff while I was serving. Almost losing Syd.”

She had let out a sigh, holding one of his hands between hers. “Stopping it has taken more discipline than I ever thought I had. And I haven’t even gone full sober, but I have strict rules for myself. It starts to get easier though, when you find other, better habits to take its place.”

Frankie had run a hand through his hair. “How do you do that?”

A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “Do what?”

“Make me have some hope for myself that doesn’t feel like complete bullshit.”

She had brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles. “I’m just telling you the stuff that I’ve gone through and what I’ve learned in the years since then. We’ve all had our struggles. A little empathy only makes sense.”

He had pulled her up into his lap after that, sliding his arms around her and just holding her there for a long time.

He also occasionally worked up the courage to ask her specific questions about her job at the club. He’d made some effort to look things up online, but usually ended up feeling like everything went over his head.

“So, people call you Boss when you’re there?” he asked one night when they’d had pizza delivered to his apartment for a night in.

She nodded, sliding a slice of ham and pineapple onto her plate. “Yep. And outside of work, too, since it kinda becomes a habit, but that’s mostly the other staff. The Boss is kinda like a role I play while I’m there in general, and with a few of my regular clients that like that for private play. The suits are really nice,” she said, smiling.

“When you say regular clients, is that just people who stop by a lot?”

“It’s a repeat business. We have our regulars just like anywhere else, people that get what they’re looking for with a particular Dom on staff, or the people who pay for the membership so they can use the equipment in the open dungeons,” she said, shrugging as she took a bite of pizza.

Frankie set his beer on the coffee table and raised an eyebrow. “What kinds of stuff do your clients ask you to do for them?” The tips of his ears went a little warm when he realized what he might be asking about. “If you can even say. I guess most people wouldn’t want their... interests to be talked about with random people.”

She grinned. “You can say kinks. It’s not a bad word. And I’m happy to discuss clients in a very general way. I just don’t want to out anyone specific for what they like.”

He sat back into the couch. “So, what is the general stuff?”

“Well,” she began, “I’ve dealt with Daddy and Mommy kinks, a lot of bondage, nonsexual overstimulation, sensory deprivation, impact play, breath play. Degradation is a big one, as is praise. Sometimes, there’s a specific scenario that the client wants to explore, so that usually has some more involved roleplaying.”

He nodded along, eyes going a bit wide. “I know what some of those words mean,” he told her. “And you’re the one in charge every time? Like, you’re the one doing stuff, the tying up and name-calling and everything?”

“I am the Boss. So, yes.” She drew her legs up and tucked them under her. “But, despite the power play going on in a scene, the submissive always has a level of control over the situation because they can end it immediately and at any point. That’s what safewords are for, or alternatives when a sub can’t speak.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “And the club has its own safeword?”

She nodded through another bite.

He looked down at his own plate. “And you’re really into all of that?”

“Yeah. It’s why I made it my job. I mean, I’m not really into being called Mommy or Daddy myself, but I don’t mind it if it’s what the client wants. Kind of a loose roleplay.”

“So, you—” He had to clear his throat, glancing over at her. “You want to do that kind of stuff...to me?”

Nita looked over at him, studying his face before setting her plate on the table with a sigh. She scooted closer to him on the couch and set a hand on his knee. “I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want me to. We don’t have to do any of this and I’m certainly not going to force it on you. If you find yourself interested, we can try some things, but I’m not expecting you to get on board just because I am.” She leaned against him, taking his hand. “And considering the fact that we’ve only really made out at this point, I have no plans to start breaking out any crazy shit.”

Embarrassment burned in his chest. “Yeah, I’m—I’m sorry about that whole thing,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

She sat up a little higher to look at him, still partially leaning into his side. “Stop it. That isn’t something you ever need to apologize for. I am fully capable of enjoying time with you that doesn’t involve sex, Frankie.” She slid her arms around his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “And I get to cuddle up with you regardless, so I’m only winning.”

He offered a half-hearted hum, but wrapped an arm around her to keep her tucked against him.

She squinted up at his profile. “Don’t make me start,” she warned.

“Start what?”

“You know what.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“I’m gonna start, Frankie,” she said, pursing her lips at him.

“I don’t know what that means,” he insisted, holding his hands up, brows lifting in exasperation.

Nita brought a hand up to cup the side of his face. “So pretty.”

He frowned in confusion. “What?”

She leaned up and buried her face in his neck. “The most handsome,” she said.

“What’re you—”

“Very cozy. The sweetest ever. A ‘read me the whole phone book’ kind of voice.” She was smiling against his neck.

“Nita—”

She pulled herself up onto his lap, ignoring him. “Really soft hair. Nice laugh. Gorgeous eyes. A big-hearted goofball. The best smile. A goddamn adorable blush. Hands made to be held. Excellent kisser. Fellow bad movie lover. Super smart. Great at—”

“Okay!” he exclaimed, putting a hand over her mouth to make her stop, his face burning. “I get it! You don’t have to attack me with compliments.”

She beamed at him and pulled his hand away, poking his cheek. “See? A goddamn adorable blush.”

“Stop,” he groaned, leaning forward to hide his face in her hair while she laughed.

It seemed too soon to say anything, but he could feel it filling his chest whenever she was around.

~*~*~*~

Despite everything that had improved in the last month, he would still end up tormenting himself in the off times.

One morning, he woke up before sunrise. His apartment was dark and empty.

He should’ve pushed to leave more money behind before they ever took off.

Frankie ground the heels of his palms into his eyes as he sat up.

He should’ve found a better exit route.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he stood up slowly, putting a hand on the nightstand for support.

He should’ve found a different place to land.

He shuffled into his bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face before he looked at himself in the mirror.

He’d shot first.

There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. The lines in his face stood out, making him seem grim. Guilty.

He’d been willing to kill kids. Fucking kids.

It was his fault. He couldn’t stop drawing everything back to the mistakes he’d made, the risks he’d taken while they were there. They’d lost the money because of him. They’d crashed because of him. Tom was dead because of him.

He’d still be at home, watching his daughter grow up, if he hadn’t agreed to go in the first place.

He turned the faucet off and walked out of the bathroom, going straight for the dresser. Opening up the top drawer, he slid his hand to the back and grabbed the big Ziploc bag hidden under some old socks. He brought the whole thing with him as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

He popped open the bottle and headed into the living room, tossing the bag on the coffee table and sinking down onto the couch.

The little packets of white powder stared up at him as he sipped his beer.

~*~*~*~

Nita parked outside of Frankie’s building. She got out of the car, clipping her keyring to a belt loop, and grabbed her wallet and phone from the cup holder.

She jogged up to the main entrance, catching the door before it closed behind the person who walked in ahead of her.

They were going to try a new breakfast place downtown. They had agreed it would be easier to just meet up at his place and take one car from there, since it had become the norm for Nita to stay over until she had to get ready for work anyway.

When she reached the elevator, she hit the call button and sent Frankie a quick ‘on my way up’ text.

She looked up as the door opened with a ding and stepped inside, glancing down at her phone in anticipation of a short acknowledging response from him. She kept checking while she got off on his floor and up until she was in front of his door.

Shaking her head with a small smile, she knocked on the door. He had a habit of leaving his phone on the charger in his bedroom until the last minute.

She looked down the hallway as she waited for him to open the door. She waited and waited and waited.

There didn’t seem to be any movement on the other side.

She knocked harder, leaning toward the door with a frown. The TV was playing faintly from inside, but she couldn’t hear him moving around or talking. Nothing.

Looking down at her phone, she called him and brought it up to her ear.

She could hear it ringing from inside his apartment. It rang until his voicemail picked up.

Worry set in. He wouldn’t still be in the shower if they were supposed to meet up. His apartment wasn’t huge, he’d be able to hear her knocking or his phone ringing. He’d have told her if something came up, and he wouldn’t have left without his phone. Hell, his truck was still parked in the lot.

She tried knocking again.

When she still didn’t get a reply, she started shifting into panic mode. Awful scenarios played over in her mind.

Is this how Syd felt when he couldn’t get in touch with her?

That thought triggered a whole other scenario to play out. The night she had to be rushed to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.

And Frankie had told her about his issues with cocaine.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, twisting helplessly at the doorknob, “please, don’t be that.”

She was sprinting back down the hallway before she even realized what she was going to do. Her panicked footsteps echoed through the stairwell as she went back to the ground floor and burst out into the lobby.

She got to the front desk, gripping the edge of the counter as she looked at the clerk.

“I need a key for 306,” she told him, breathless.

He didn’t look up from his computer. “Do you have proof of residence?”

“I don’t live here. It’s my boyfriend’s apartment. Please, it’s urgent.”

He sighed, turning to her with a bored look. “I can’t give out keys without proof of residence or consent from a resident.”

She shook her head, panic giving way to her temper. “You don’t understand, this is an em—”

“I cannot give out keys without proof of residence or consent from a resident.”

Furious, she pulled a business card out of her wallet and threw it at the man. “Fucking bill me, then,” she snarled.

She was already back at the door for the stairway before he could shout an angry “Hey!”

Even taking the steps two at a time, it felt like forever before she reached the third floor. She ran down the hallway, pulse pounding in her ears as she returned to his door. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself quickly before slamming a foot into the door, right next to the knob.

She heard it crack a little, but it held, vibrating on its hinges with the force.

Kicking again, the cracking was louder and there was a dent where her foot hit.

A third kick made the doorframe splinter inward and she was able to shoulder the door open the rest of the way.

She saw him immediately. 

He was laying limp on the living room floor, a trail of foam at the corner of his mouth. Three beer bottles sat on the coffee table, one laying on its side. She didn’t miss the shakily prepared lines of cocaine right next to the bottles, or that the amount of open packets scattered across the table meant that they were far from the first.

She ran over to him and crouched at his side, fingers seeking out the pulse at his neck.

It was fast, too fast, but that was better than nothing.

Pulling her phone out, she called for an ambulance immediately, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice as she answered their non-stop questions.

She stayed on the phone with the dispatcher until the paramedics were walking through the splintered doorway. How she must’ve looked then, petting his hair gently with trembling hands.

The questions started all over again as she went with them out to the ambulance. There was so much that she couldn’t answer and she just kept apologizing for that, even though they’d only known each other for little more than a month

She climbed in with them, wide eyed as they started placing stickers and wires all over him before sticking an IV in his arm.

They were throwing jargon back and forth between the questions that they asked her.

She felt like she was in a daze, listening to the rapid beeps of the machine monitoring his vitals, trying to pick through her memory for any traces of his medical history that might’ve come up in conversation.

Then, a dull, steady tone filled the space.

The world went white as the paramedic beside her got to his feet and started doing chest compressions.

She knew that they were all talking to one another, and maybe to her, but all she heard was that single long tone. Numbness crawled through her veins and she just stared at Frankie’s face. There wasn’t anything she could do in that situation and the helplessness was tearing her apart.

Her body jolted along with the momentum of the speeding ambulance, her elbow slamming into the wall hard enough to bruise at one point, but the only pain she felt was her chest constricting and the blurry sting behind her eyes.

Everything became too loud when the beeping resumed. The sudden ability to breathe again made her dizzy and she could feel tears falling down her face.

The paramedics waited a moment, scanning the monitor to ensure that things were returning to some semblance of normal, before the one beside her sat back down.

He gently nudged her arm and she realized that she was shaking. “Hey. We’ve got him,” he said softly.

She just nodded silently, not trusting her voice to work with the lump in her throat.

From that point on, she watched the monitor displaying his vitals, willing it all to stay steady throughout the rest of the drive.

When they got to the hospital, she wasn’t allowed to follow them back to his room. She wasn’t family.

Instead, a nurse led her out to the waiting room, where she sat stiffly in one of the cushioned chairs, not really sure what she was meant to be waiting for, nor how long that wait would be.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, staring blankly at the empty chair across from her, before a woman came through the main entrance.

Nita didn’t really notice her until she hurried up to the nurses’ station and said “I got a call about a patient. Francisco Morales?”

Nita looked up, finding a woman she’d seen a few glimpses of in older photos of Izzy that Frankie had shown her on his phone. Lana. She must’ve still been listed as his emergency contact.

She got up out of her chair as the nurse behind the desk took Lana’s ID and started typing away. As she got closer, she felt more uncertain as to what she would even say.

Lana was about average height, which meant she was taller than Nita, and seemed to be a few years younger, maybe mid to late thirties. She was pretty, a warm complexion and dark hair that was pulled away from her face in a low ponytail. She glanced up when Nita stopped a few feet away.

“Hi,” Nita said, giving a small, polite smile. “You’re Lana, right?” She caught the look of slight confusion as Lana studied her face, clearly trying to place it. “We’ve never met. I’m Nita, I came here with Frankie.”

Realization spread over her features and she held out a hand, which Nita shook. “I didn’t know he was seeing someone.”

Nita shrugged, a part of her hoping she didn’t look as wrecked as she still felt. “It’s only been a little over a month, so I’m not surprised.”

Lana’s eyes widened. “A month? And you’re already having to come to the hospital?” She leaned closer, voice lowering. “Tell me it wasn’t the coke. They just told me to come in, they didn’t tell me what was wrong. Did he overdose?”

She pressed her lips tight, head filling with that long, dull tone as she gave a small nod. “I found him. We were supposed to meet up before grabbing breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” Lana said sincerely. Then, she frowned slightly. “What are you doing out here? Are they not allowing visitors?”

Nita shook her head. “Family only.” She gestured vaguely to Lana. “Or emergency contacts.”

“Ms. Torres,” said the nurse, holding out Lana’s ID. “Someone will be by in a minute to bring you back.”

Lana took the card, still frowning as she looked at Nita, before she turned to the nurse. “Can I bring her back with me?”

Nita’s eyes widen a bit in surprise, gaze shifting between Lana and the nurse.

The nurse looked to Nita. “Do you have an ID with you?”

She was quick to slip her license out of her wallet and hand it over, nodding her thanks to Lana who just gave a small smile.

A nurse appeared from the set of automatic doors next to the desk as Nita was being handed her license back.

“You’re here for Mr. Morales?” he asked.

Both women nodded and he gestured for them to follow.

Nita tensed as soon as they left the waiting room, skin crawling as they made their way down the featureless hall. It was always the smell that bothered her first, followed by the lighting and the hallways that felt awkwardly wide but also cramped. She’d never even been to this hospital, but the bland walls were full of bad memories.

“He’ll be asleep when you go in, and probably won’t wake up for a few hours while he detoxes,” the nurse was explaining. “We did have him awake a little while ago to check for any other possible issues, like a concussion since he was found on the ground. Nothing turned up, so that’s a good sign. It’s just down to having him rest and letting everything work it’s way out of his system. The plan right now is to keep him overnight, with the possibility of holding him another day for observation.” They stopped at a door and the nurse carefully pushed it open, letting Nita and Lana step through first. “If you need anything, you can go to the nurses’ station that’s a little further down this hall.” He then gestured back the direction they’d just come from. “We passed some vending machines on the way here. I know it’s almost lunch time, so if you want to get some snacks, those are an option. There’s also the cafeteria, but you might need to ask someone to show you the way if you want to get there.”

They each nodded along with his words, thanking him before he slipped back out of the room. They were left to take in the sight of Frankie in the hospital bed as the room settled into silence.

He was pale, a thin sheen of sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead and neck. His eyes seemed sunken, like this was the only sleep he’d gotten in a long time. The wide neck of the hospital gown was crooked and left his collarbones exposed, skin still gleaming with sweat. There were a few machines surrounding him, all just there to monitor his heart rate, oxygen levels, or blood pressure. He was still hooked up to an IV, the bag hanging on a stand nestled amongst the machines.

Nita was hit with a wave of nausea but she gritted her teeth, determined to fight it. He would be alright. There was no reason for her to start sliding back into panic. 

Her throat tightened with the threat of tears anyway.

Lana walked over to one of the chairs in the room and sat down heavily, sighing as she ran her hands down her face. She looked to where Nita was still frozen in place. “Come sit. I don’t think there’ll be much for us to do until he wakes up,” she said gently, leaning back.

“Yeah,” she rasped, taking him in for a moment longer before tearing her gaze away and moving to join Lana.

~*~*~*~

His chest hurt. It felt like someone had knocked a baseball right into the center of it. Or maybe just hit him directly with a hard swing of the bat.

And the low beeping was making the pounding in his head even worse.

He heard people speaking, too low to make out, and something about their voices was...off.

Everything was too bright when he tried to open his eyes. It was like a light was shining right into his face. He forced his eyes to stay open, squinting against the light in the room and up at the TV playing on the wall across from him.

The voices.

He slowly registered that he was in a hospital room as he looked around. Something was wrong. He’d fucked something up. Done too much. His whole body felt like shit.

His gaze eventually landed on the figure sitting in a chair off to the side.

She was facing the TV, a bag of pretzels in her hand, not yet noticing that he was awake.

Confusion took hold of him. “Lana?”

She met his gaze with a start. “Hey,” she said, flustered. “You’re up.”

He shook his head. “What’re you—? But Izzy—?”

“Izzy is with my mom. The hospital called me down here,” she told him with a sigh. “You need to get your records updated, Frankie.”

He felt himself sink down into the bed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t—” He swallowed hard, throat dry. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Lana stood up and folded her arms as she made her way over to the side of the bed. “I know you didn’t. I think the fact that you had plans this morning kinda saved you, actually.”

“Plans?” he asked with a slight frown. 

And then there was the dread as he remembered.

“It’s Tuesday,” he said softly. “I was supposed to have breakfast with Nita.”

Lana nodded, looking down at her shoes. “She’s the one that found you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “God fucking damn it.” He shut his eyes and let his hands fall back down. “I woke up so early, I didn’t even think about the day.”

“She’s been on edge the whole time I’ve been here, Frankie.” She looked up at him and her eyes were so full of emotion that it almost made him wince. “Don’t put her through this, alright? I know that you know it’s not fair. To anyone.”

He stared down at the end of the bed. “I know. I’m trying, but I just...” he trailed off with a sigh. “I’m trying.”

“Yeah,” she said, voice low and a bit strained as she let her gaze drop.

“And Nita’s here?” He tried to shift a little, sit up straighter, but pain twisted all along his rib cage and he was forced to slump back. Prepared to try again, he took a deep breath, only to discover that that alone reignited the pain. Teeth gritted, he focused on keeping his breathing even without over-expanding his lungs.

“She is. She went to grab a drink from the vending machine.”

He nodded slightly, a hand hovering over where the ache was worst. “Did something happen while I was out?” he ground out. “When I move, it’s like I’m getting kicked in the chest.”

Lana frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know. They said you were alright, aside from having to detox. You could call in a nurse,” she suggested.

They both turned to look when the door opened.

Nita slipped into the room, eyes widening as she saw Frankie. “Hi. How do you feel?” she asked, quickly moving to his side, a hand gently taking hold of his free one.

“Like shit,” he said, offering a dry grin. “Headache isn’t fun. And my chest is killing me, for some reason.”

Something in her expression shifted, the little smile that had been forming wavered. “They didn’t say your ribs were broken, but they’re probably pretty bruised.”

“Did I hit something? Or run into something?” 

She shook her head and squeezed his hand, eyes too bright. “No. They, uh...They had to do chest compressions on the ride here.” He could see her jaw working as she shifted her weight. “You flatlined.”

He stared at her blankly, not sure he even wanted to fully process what she’d said.

“What?” Lana exclaimed.

Nita cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I would’ve said something earlier, but I couldn’t really think about it without—” She rocked back on her heels and pulled her hand away from him. “Hospitals bring back—” she started again before her jaw clenched. “I’m gonna go sit down.”

They watched her shuffle around the bed and slump down heavily into one of the chairs, hands covering her face. She was silent for a few moments before she looked back up at them.

“I haven’t been able to get the sound out of my head since I heard it, and hospitals bring back some very bad memories, so I’ve just been trying to avoid focusing on the details or thinking about anything that will make me nauseous.” She said it all very quickly, like she was trying to get it out before she could register her own words. “So, your ribs are probably bruised.”

Frankie looked up at the ceiling and almost wished that he was enough of a believer to pray, but he couldn’t get his thoughts organized enough to even try.

Lana slowly made her way over to the chairs and sat down next to Nita.

Things were pretty quiet after that.

~*~*~*~

The hospital released him two days later, taking that second day for observation to monitor the effects of the detox and the severity of his bruised ribs.

Nita was there from the very beginning of visiting hours each day, staying until the nurses had to practically force her to leave.

Lana left when visitation ended the day he was brought in so that she could pick Izzy up. She came back for an hour or two the next morning to check in, and a final time when they were letting him go.

Once Lana left and his papers were signed, he was wheeled out through the front doors and to the entrance of the parking garage by a nurse before getting up and walking the rest of the way to Nita’s car.

The drive to his apartment was overwhelmingly calm and it made him feel like everything inside him was utter chaos by comparison.

Upon making it to his building, the man at the front desk stopped them as soon as they walked in. 

“You Morales? 306?” he asked Frankie.

His brow furrowed. “Yeah.”

The man held out a hand. “ID.”

Frankie just looked more confused as he pulled out his wallet and handed his license over.

The clerk leaned over his computer and checked the license against some information he pulled up on the monitor. Then, he straightened back up and returned the ID before handing Frankie a key. “For your new door,” he said, shooting a glare at Nita.

Frankie stared down at the key as they walked to the elevator. “New door? I didn’t know they were getting new doors.”

Nita pushed the call button and looked up at him. “They aren’t. I just kicked in your old one.”

His brows shot up and he nearly dropped the key. “You what?”

“They wouldn’t give me a key, so I had to kick my way in.”

He stared at her blankly for a few seconds. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” he said lowly.

She shrugged. “I just had to get to you. I was worried.”

He gazed down at her as they walked onto the elevator, eyes sweeping over her face. She looked tired. And it was his fault.

He was a little startled when he felt her fingers intertwine with his.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, voice quiet, “we’re focusing on making you feel better.”

Her thumb brushed the back of his hand.

He couldn’t help wondering if she knew just how much he didn’t deserve it, that little comforting gesture. Surely, there was enough evidence showing that she shouldn’t even bother with him. It had to be clear by that point that he was just in a permanent state of fucked up mess.

Neither of them said anything when they reached the third floor and walked down the hall.

He took note of the fresh coat of paint on the new doorframe and the knob that shone bright from lack of use.

When he walked inside, he felt a heaviness clinging to him, weighing his shoulders down. He hated how his first concern was the mess he’d left on the coffee table, and the confusion when he saw that there were no traces of it.

“I got rid of it while I was waiting for the ambulance,” Nita said as she walked into the kitchen and pulled herself up onto the counter. “I broke the door and there was no reason to leave it out for someone to find while you were gone.”

He just looked at her, a frown etched into his face. Shuffling into the kitchen, he leaned back against the counter across from her and let his gaze drop to the floor, body slumping as much as his ribs would allow.

Her eyes trailed over him with concern. “What are you thinking about?”

Crossing his arms, he shook his head. “The fact that I’m just a piece of shit, and that I can’t stop fucking things up for myself.” His eyes burned as he gestured toward her. “I mean, I fucking OD and you’re the one cleaning up after me. We’ve been together a few weeks and I’m already—” his voice cracked, “I’m already putting you through this kind of bullshit. This kind of stupid shit is the whole reason I’m divorced and now I’m throwing it at you too. And, on top of that, I feel guilty whenever I want you, which doesn’t even make sense and just makes me feel like a goddamn asshole because I know that I’m being fucking confusing but I can’t make it stop. I start to think about any bad memories or doubts and my first instinct is to fucking turn my brain off for a few hours because I’m too fucking stupid to figure out a halfway decent way to cope. I can’t trust myself.” He took his hat off and threw it across the counter, running a hand through his hair and down his face. “Now, I’m just ranting at you like a kid throwing a tantrum, as if you have anything to do with all of my bullshit,” he said, smiling bitterly to himself as his throat tightened. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in all this time I’ve been on my own and this is the shit that I pull.”

His jaw clenched as he folded his arms back tight across his chest and shifted his weight.

Nita slipped down off of the counter, crossing the kitchen and stopping in front of him.

“Look at me, Frankie,” she said softly, taking his face in her hands.

His eyes found hers reluctantly.

“There are some things I’m about to say. A lot of it, you already know, but sometimes you have to hear things out loud for them to click. And some of it won’t be very nice to hear. Okay?”

He offered a small nod.

She took a deep breath, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. “You aren’t married anymore, Frankie.”

He instantly tensed, trying to lean away, but she held him in place.

“You are divorced. You’ve been single for the better part of a year. Moving back into your old place isn’t really a possibility. You aren’t—”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Nita—”

“Hush. I’m not done.”

His shoulders sagged.

She studied him for a moment before continuing. “You aren’t cheating on anyone. You aren’t being unfaithful. You’re allowed to date. You can have sex with as many people as you want. You could go to a fucking orgy, if that’s what you want to do!”

He gave a strained laugh as she smiled at him.

“You don’t need to feel guilty whenever I rile you up. You’re allowed to enjoy being intimate with me. You aren’t doing anything wrong. It is perfectly alright to get a blowjob from the lady you met at the bar a few weeks ago. You know, the one who won’t shut up about how sexy you are.”

A smile curled at his mouth and he reached to give her hip a small squeeze.

She brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead, expression turning more serious. “You aren’t happy. You’re the sort of man that the world has chewed up and spit out too many times to count. And you bottle everything up. You lock everything up so tight that your only means of distraction is by forcing bad chemicals with the right effect into your brain so that everything stops hurting for a little while. I know you want to block out all of the shit that went down with you and your friends, but shoving it down isn’t helping anyone. Especially not you. You are an addict. And it’s killing you.”

She heard him take a shaky breath.

She swallowed hard, and leaned forward to press her forehead against his. “Your fucking heart stopped, Frankie.”

He let loose a sob, arms wrapping around her and pulling her close.

She hugged around his neck, hands clasped at his nape. “You need help. And you haven’t really done much to find it for yourself because you’ve become so fucking terrified of being a burden on the people around you. That’s a hard mindset to break out of, and I know it feels impossible sometimes. But people want to help. You are deserving of that help. And I’ll tell you that every fucking day until you believe it, and then I’ll keep telling you anyway.” She went up on her toes and hugged him tighter, face buried in the side of his neck as she tried to keep her voice from faltering with the tears that were rolling down to her chin. “There is a wonderful father who could talk for hours about how much he loves his daughter, and that little girl fucking deserves to have him at her side whenever she needs him.”

Frankie collapsed in on himself, ignoring the throbbing ache in his chest at the movement, shaking as he held onto her and they both cried. When his knees buckled beneath him, she helped him ease down so that they were sitting on the kitchen floor, wrapped up in each other.

They stayed there for a while, holding on as the sobs slowly quieted and the tears just turned into stiff trails on their faces.

Nita ran her fingers through his hair gently. “There’s that therapist that I go to,” she said, voice still rough. “Started seeing her back when the alcoholism was at its worst. The whole place specializes in addiction. First session is the hardest.”

“Okay,” he murmured.

She pressed a light kiss to his temple. “You can come stay with me for a while. I know you don’t like it here.”

He took a breath to say something, but she squeezed her arms around him tighter and continued

“It isn’t just when you’re alone here, Frankie. I’ve seen something in your eyes shut off when we walk in. It’s like...what this place represents in your mind. It breaks you down.”

He curled a strand of her hair around his finger absently. “Yeah,” he admitted.

She sat back enough to look at him. “Let’s pack a bag for you. I don’t care how much, just whatever you think you’ll need for the next few days. We can figure it out from there.”

He nodded lamely, clearing his throat. “Okay.”

She kissed his temple again. “We’ll stop by to pick your truck up tomorrow.”

He straightened, wincing slightly, and ran a hand down his face. “I can take it now.”

“No.”

He startled at the firmness in her voice. “Nita, I ca—”

“No,” she repeated. “I’m driving you to my house and you’re going to rest. We’ll get the truck tomorrow.” There was no room for argument.

He sat there, studying the set of her jaw and the steel in her eyes. “Alright,” he said finally.

She nodded once and stood up, offering him a hand. He took it and gritted his teeth as pain burned through his abdomen when he pulled himself up.

Resting her hands just above his elbows, she helped him steady himself. “Need to be careful with you for a while,” she said, voice light as she gave him a little smile. She rose up on her toes and pecked his cheek. “Let’s go pack you a bag.”

---------------------

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Taglist:

@zeldasayer   @beskars   @winters-buck  @the-feckless-wonder  @yodaswrinkles  @rzrcrst  @wickedfrsgrl  @roxypeanut  @mrsparknuts  @spacegayofficial  

~ Mike

[the-u-s-s-enterprise]

This is a long one, but I love Undertale.

Eighteen-years old, fresh out of their sheltered hometown and onto a liberal arts college with more diverse people than they had ever experienced in their life.  They’re nervous about school, the up in ante, the new lifestyle, the new freedom.  They found their place with some friends that they wouldn’t think about in a few years time, people that would come and go, and a couple that would stay, but the first step on their journey into adulthood.

This is fall of 2015.  Their parents dropped them off with a teary goodbye less than a month ago, and Undertale comes out today.  They don’t know about it.  At least not until Steam Train plays it not too long later.  They watch a cute game played and commentated by a duo from their favorite YouTube gaming channel.  It’s exactly their style, a cute, fun game with interesting and lovable characters.

The first episode doesn’t even span the tutorial, and the kid doesn’t bother waiting for the rest.  They load up steam and buy it, playing it well into the night, sobbing at the heartbreaking conclusion and not knowing that five years later they would break into tears over hearing “Home” for the first time in years.

I played Undertale because I thought it was cute, the designs were fun, the mechanics were interesting, the story was easy enough to follow.  I liked video games, but not enough to spend money on them only to get bored halfway through, so I watched a few Let’s Play YouTube channels to experience them without having to devote my constantly overstimulated brain to playing them.

Undertale was different.  I don’t choose the things I become obsessed with (do you think I would be thinking about It: Chapter 2 over a year later if I could?), but when I fall into something, I fall hard.

I played it through, and then I watched Steam Train, and then I watched Press Heart to Continue, and JackSepticEye, and Markiplier, and Dan and Phil, and streamers I don’t even remember the names of in order to see every single reaction and playthrough I could see.  Don’t get me wrong, I played again and again, too, even forcing my friends not to play it if I wasn’t there to watch.

In fact, I distinctly remember a friend, I was watching him play and telling him where the secrets were and the background for every little thing that wasn’t explicit in the game.  He loved it.  We played the entire game in three sessions, the first involved us going through the Ruins and saving after meeting Sans and Papyrus, the second going about halfway through Waterfall, and the third was the rest of the game in a six-hour session.

All in all, I can’t even count how many times I’ve witnessed the game, nor how many times I’ve read the Wiki pages, clicking “random page” over and over again until I had circled back around to the start.  If I had to guess, I’ve played the pacifist playthrough about ten times on my own, and watched it anywhere between 20 and 30 between different YouTubers and rewatches of the same playthroughs.  I’ve seen the genocide run a fair number of times, likely close to ten, and various neutral runs in the teens.

Not only that, I spent hours in the library with my headphones on doing homework, listening to not the OST, but the ten-hour extended versions of my favorite songs, “Bonetrousle”, “Hopes and Dreams”, “Death by Glamour”, and the ever so aptly named “NGAHHH!!” just to name a few.

And don’t get me started on the glitch characters.  The hours I spent looking up information on Gaster because I was too scared to mod my own game are endless.

So, I guess you could say I’m very familiar with the game.  It meant a lot to me as a young adult with fresh freedom, a story about a lost child finding a family of their own.  My first and only tattoo is of the delta rune (although people will try to tell me it’s from Legend of Zelda).

It’s hard to talk about, but I don’t have the best mental health, with constant long-running depression, social anxiety, and mild OCD, my brain tends to run a mile a minute, and I had a really hard time making friends in high school, which resulted in me not having any friends at all after my friends from middle school decided they were too good for me.

I spent the better part of my four years in high school eating lunch alone and not going out on the weekends because no one wanted me to.  In senior year, I managed to make friends with a few people, but nothing deep or long lasting.

Cue college, a fresh start where I could be exactly who I was supposed to be.  I came out as asexual on the second day there, not knowing that my involvement with the LGBT organization would lead me to realize that I was also nonbinary and a lesbian.  But needless to say, I was an outcast looking for a place to call home.

I found it at school, making a couple lifelong friends (I love you girls!) and finding a place in coming to my own leadership abilities and my desire to be a role model and resource for young LGBT people.  Always in the background was Undertale.

Here was this game, though with a few flaws, was the greatest game I had ever played, as I remarked on every little detail from the stunning backgrounds to the fun yet challenging fight mechanics to every little piece of witty dialogue.

I remarked on Toby Fox and his ability to create this game almost entirely on his own, coding and designing and writing music.  He didn’t do it alone, but so much of the game was him, and seeing someone accomplish something that meant so much to me was an inspiration.

I looked at this game and saw a breathtaking story, hints of the twist being woven into every pixel, parallels at every turn, tidbits that you had to play the game ten times (like I did) to catch pieces of backstory that were so vital to fully understanding a character.

Not only that, but I looked at this game and I saw me.  I saw the cute and honestly rather stupid love story between Alphys and Undyne, between a shy (presumably) bisexual lizard girl and a buff (presumably) lesbian fish lady.  They were awkward and uncomfortable and bashful and I loved every part of their interactions.  They cared for each other and their story being thrown in and accepted, not a word said about it except outside the game.  And don’t get me started on the guards.

But beyond that, I saw Frisk, a child without a denoted gender, which many people took to mean you could impose the gender you wanted, but to nonbinary people, to people like me, they saw a main character that used they/them pronouns without it being a joke, without it being asked about, without the characters ever slipping up or even having to guess.  They did it because that’s who Frisk is, and they love Frisk.

I see this game, this funny, heart-wrenching, sweet, and wonderful game, and I see found family.  I see a child who we know went up Mount Ebbott knowing that children who went up there didn’t come back find people (monsters) that loved them, cared about them, even after only knowing them for what we can assume is a day.

Frisk finds these monsters and they loved them for who they are.  The love these characters share meant more to me than I ever could have imagined they would, the background to my introduction to freedom, the meeting of my best friends, the discovery of myself, the growth of my leadership and motivation.  They were there.  They were always there for me, and now, today, on the day of the five year anniversary of my own self discovery, I listen to “Home” and I cry.

I cry for Toriel, who lived alone in the Ruins for years, I cry for Sans and Papyrus who take care of each other in more way than they know, I cry for Undyne who’s desperate to prove herself and protect her people, I cry for Alphys who lived with the guilt of her mistakes and wanting nothing more than to make amends for the monster she thought she was, I cry for Asgore who was so overcome with grief he became the worst version of himself.

I cry for Asriel for obvious reasons.  And I cry for Frisk, a child that wanted love and found it in the journey, just like I did.

I listen to “Home” and I cry because it is home.  It’s a story about love in the time I needed it the most, shaping me into the person I am today, even five years later.

Because despite everything, it’s still me. 

[kweebtrash]

Can I Love Like This? (M)

Messy Chapter 6

Pairing(s): OC X Johnny 

Genre: College AU, Fuckboy AU, Angst, Smut

Summary: Fuckboys are basically good for one thing. You hit it and quit it- except when his voice draws you in, his body keeps you there, and dumb ass feelings linger making things particularly messy.

Warnings:  description/discussions of sexual assaults, beginnings of codependency, light drinking/drug use, unhealthy coping mechanisms, anxiety attack/night terrors, a little bit of a “i can fix/help you attitude”, a little jealousssyyyyyyyyyy

Features: slight daddy kink (daddy/princess), a lot of making out and ass grabbing (because johnny’s a slut), a little bit of grinding, blow jobs, unprotected sex/pulling out, slow fucking/riding, scratching, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oh and cock warming

Word Count: around 13.5k

A/N: There’s no group chat at the end so I’m sorry! I know a lot of people like them because they’re funny but for some of the serious chapters there won’t be. Towards the end, the songs referenced are Chase Atlantics “Dancer in the Dark” and “Into It”.

Messy Masterlist    Buy me a Ko-Fi  Other Stories

Johnny's POV

I stood quiet as I was unsure as to why she was crying. It happened so suddenly that I stopped talking, pausing to see if she would gather herself. I had told her what happened after the rave and everything that transpired the past couple of weeks. It was definitely hard to say the whole truth. Jae had only gotten the cliffnotes version; i wasn't exactly comfortable telling him everything even though he was my best friend. For some reason though, with Eri, I felt like I could tell her anything and she wouldn't think less of me. I just didn't expect her to cry.

“I'm so sorry, Johnny.” She managed to squeak through her hiccuped breaths.

I scooted closer to her. “For what?”

“For not being there for you…”

“How could you have been? I pushed you away. I needed some time to myself. Shit got heavy really fast and I stayed roped in this mess. I just felt stupid. I knew i shouldn't have taken the pill but I did. And if i hadn't maybe i would've avoided all this.”

“Dont ever blame yourself, ok? We make mistakes but that doesn't warrant anyone getting ra-”

I grabbed her shoulder, more intensely than i should have but i couldn't bear to hear what she was about to say just yet. “Please don't say that word. Just don't.”

She pursed her lips together and pulled her knees to her chest. I sighed and raised my hand to wipe away the smudge-y black tears staining her cheek. She turned towards my touches, slowly falling into my chest and holding onto me tight. It felt good to be held like this. I didn't realize i was even craving it until now. A warm touch that wasn't full of violence or ill will finally made me feel like I could breathe again. Like my safety net has been casted and I could fall into it without worry. “I don't want this to happen to you again. I want to be there for you.”

“It wouldn't be the first time.” I shrugged simply.

Eri looked at me in surprise and as if another round of tears were about to break through at any moment. “What do you mean? T-this has happened before?”

“Something similar, i guess.” I set my head in the palm of my hand as she pulled away to give me room to breath. “When i was younger i hooked up with an older chick which was a big mistake. I wasn't really experienced at the time so I let her take control. So she asked me to go down on her-this was my first time doing it- and then she kinda...she like held me there. I couldn't really breathe so i started to panic and tried to push her away. She didn't let go. When she finally did I didn't want to do anything after but I guess she convinced me or guilted me into having sex after.”

“Oh my god...that's why you dont-”

I nodded.

Her semi silent tears exploded again and i wanted to shake her. There wasn't any need to cry over me or even take pity upon me.  “Eri, stop it. Stop crying.”

“Don't tell me to stop crying! All this shit happened to you and it makes me pissed! Im angry you felt like you couldn't tell anyone. I'm upset at myself for not being there for you. I feel guilty for all those times i asked you to go down on me. And worst of all i want to hurt the bitches that did this to you. Like really hurt them.”

“Don't. I just wanted you to know. I was the one that felt guilty about leaving you on read. I got swallowed up by everything and it was like I wasn't allowed to even be with my friends. I'm thankful that you're worried about me and i'm definitely glad you're here with me now but I don't want to focus on the bad stuff anymore...can we just, maybe, stop talking about it?”

Eri wiped at the tears and nodded. “Yeah, yeah! Shit, of course. I’m sorry. You don’t have to think of it anymore because of me.” She enveloped me in another death grip hug, plastering me to her chest. I wrapped my arms around her waist, setting my head on her shoulder and closing my eyes for just a moment. I could smell her- the mintiness of her shampoo, the florals of her perfume, and the underlying muskiness of our sex. Paired with the heat of her body it was the most comforting thing i had felt all month. I sighed softly, giving her shoulder a quick kiss before pulling away. I kept my hands on her waist and looked up at her. “Do you...will you stay here tonight?”

“Duh.” She smiled. “I'd be totally okay with that.” I reciprocated her smile and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She stayed close, adding a few more pecks until i leaned into her harder. Her hands fell to my shoulders, gripping them tightly as mine slipped to her hips. Just as I beckoned for her to part her lips she pulled away, leaving me confused. “Um...is this ok?” She whispered, nibbling on her lip nervously.

“If it was okay in the bathroom, why wouldn’t it be okay now?” I scoffed.

“Because...of everything we just talked about. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Remember how you did the same for me at the beach? I want to be sure you don’t feel-”

“I don’t feel like shit when I’m with you Eri, trust me. I guess I never told you but...don’t take this the wrong way ok? But like-” I exhaled deeply and dropped my head back onto the seat of the couch. “But when we fuck I don’t feel like anything’s wrong. I don’t feel like I have to be in my head, or wrapped up in shit that’s happened to me, or even like I’m rushing through it just to get off. It feels good.” I could see the hint of redness color her cheeks and it made my palms sweat. I pulled them away from her hips and wiped them furiously on my jeans, failing at trying to be as casual as I could be. I didn’t want it to seem like it was something that would ruin our fuck buddy relationship. I didn’t want that at all.

“I'm glad i can make you feel good. That's all i want, Johnny.” She said softly.

“C'mere.” I sighed, pulling her into my lap. “Promise me you wont worry about me that much?”

“Absolutely not.” She adjusted herself so that she straddled my thighs. “All i'm gonna do is worry about you now. You big dumb ass.” She resumed her gentle kisses and I dove back in to trying to pull more out of her. Anything to get my mind off of this. Too many emotions at once gave me a sick panicky feeling and retreating to sex was my comfort zone of all things, especially with Eri. With all the heavy talk I wanted to go back to burying it deep down inside my brain and my heart, trapped with all the other shit i had been through. I wanted to move on. I wanted to be free. Maybe i should be taking more time to properly heal and process it but i just wasn't capable of doing that. At least not now. Maybe somewhere down the line when i was in my mid thirties and having a crisis in therapy I could address it. But for now I was content with shoving it aside and convincing myself that I was alright. I need that intimate touch with Eri to help me forget and metaphorically wash away the dead feeling my body had from having sex with a destructive force of nature. I let my mind snap back to our kiss just as her lips parted and I could slip my tongue in. I sighed into her mouth, moving past my traumatic thoughts and letting my fingers trail up and down her spine.

Getting lost in her lips was a better addiction than any drug I'd ever done before. The way they felt against mine made me never want to stop kissing her. I didn't need to breathe, i just needed her against me. Her fingers crept into my hair, twirling around a few strands. Just as I kissed at her bottom lip she let out a soft whimper. “It still hurts, jerk.”

I smiled a bit, remembering my handiwork of almost tearing into the tenderness of her lips. A little part of me liked it, making it akin to her knowing that she was mine in that moment. “Oh, now you're gonna complain, princess?”

“D-dont call me that.” She whispered, touching her fingers to her tender lip.

“Why?”

“Because it's...i mean it goes with the whole...um-uh-" She turned her voice down to a whisper. “Daddy thing.”

Shit. I had almost forgotten about that. But how could I? It triggered something in me. Something i never even knew I desired. It made me want to do filthy flithy things and get lost in the way she begged for me. My own cheeks started to heat up just at the thought. “Right...so...uh...is that a thing between us now or?”

“I dont know! I mean it's still...there's like more to it than just the name and I dont think it's gonna be your gig!”

“How do you know that?” I tapped her forehead with mine gently and gave her another kiss. “Maybe I like all the shit you're into.”

“Name one single kink you have.”

“I like the hair pulling.”

“That's like normal people stuff, Johnny.” She practically laughed. “All i'm saying is that there's dynamics, trust, and learning that goes with using that word. It's more complicated than you think.”

“Does it mean i can control you?”

“EXCUSE.” She yelled.

“WHAT!? I'm just asking. I'm curious. Can't i be curious?”

“Well yeah but...i didn't think we'd be having this conversation so suddenly and especially not after everything that's happened.”

“I still like sex, Eri. I still want to have sex. I want to have good sex so that way my body doesn't shut down completely and i'm reminded of what it's like to not have control. Hence, why I asked. Can i have control of you?”

“Well...i mean…” she fidgeted against me and groped at the ends her hair. This was the first time I had ever really seen her so docile. It was a bit strange but i was beginning to like it almost as much as i liked her fiery “take no bullshit” personality. “Not all the time. Only in the bedroom, or bathroom...or i guess bumper cars too.”

“Interesting.” So she was giving me permission. Now what to do with that exactly. I was diving into new territory and while it was a hell of a lot more frightening than it was thrilling, the spark of curiosity was ever growing. Control was something I definitely needed during sex. I wouldn't be able to function without it. I didn't exactly see it as a kink thing, it was more of a me thing and how my mind reacted when I fucked. It was like a defensive mechanism that went off as soon as I was in someone. “Ok. So...another thing.” I started.

“Oh boy.” She took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically. “What else?”

“The choking.”

She scrunched up her body and wiggled in the most uncomfortable way. “Right. Uh...that's a thing I like. Not everyone does and you don't have to do it if you don't want to! And if you're trying to be kinky because of me you really really don't have to. I can have regular sex.”

“I want to try some things. The choking is a bit much but if you're okay with it and if i'm doing it right then maybe i'd be willing to do it again.” I confessed.

She covered her face and dove her head into my chest. “Oh my god. I can't believe we're doing this.”

“Why are you so off put by us doing it but not by Ten or Yuta?”

“Because!” She said, practically muffled by the barriers of our skin. “I never expected this from you! It's a little weird!”

“What's so weird about it?”

“I-you- we...ugh, i don't know! I guess i just…” She didn't look at me when she trailed off in her thoughts. She tugged harder on her hair, pulling a few strands free. I pulled her hands away before it got any worse.

“You're stressed.” I noted.

“It's a lot in one night to process. And i know you want to talk about this stuff between us right now because you want to ignore what happened. I get that, i really do. It feels good to ignore shit but it's a ticking time bomb.”

“I know that. The bomb has exploded a few times but it's all I can do right now. If you dont want to talk about kink stuff or sex or my life then that's fine.”

“Nonononono!” She waved her hand frantically as if to stop me. “I do! I like our talk but i'm...i don't want it to get too messy between us. I take the kink thing seriously. They're different relationships compared to romances or friendships, though they can cross over. So even if mutual friends do it and something happens where there’s disconnect or trust issues than it can be difficult to repair that. On top of that, you and I are-we're really connected. I keep forgiving you, you keep thinking about me. We're fucking stupid.”

“That's for damn sure. I know what I want from you.” I lied. “It's just sex.” Idiot, stop talking right now. “That's all it is, Eri.” Jesus christ, why do you do this to yourself?

It may have been in my imagination but maybe her deep brown eyes showed a hint of hurt in them. She quickly smiled as if would create a clean slate. “Well duh!” She laughed, which seemed a bit forced. “What else would it be! We're just friends. Who fuck. A lot. Just friends.”

I nodded, feeling my heart clench behind my rib cage. My mind was screaming to blurt out that I liked her but the chains that shackled me to my inability to fully trust anyone prevented me from heading in that new direction. “Just friends.”

She returned my nod as if we had just sealed a pact. “Um...so we're friends. Who fuck. And now you want to try being my-” She whispered again like the word was suddenly going to condemn her. “Daddy.”

“I mean…” What the fuck did I even mean? “Yes?”

She flopped into my chest again and i could tell we were on the same level of confusion, exhaustion, and frustration. Eri had been right all along and I should've listened to her. It was too much all at once. “Hey, do you want some clothes to change into so that way you're not all covered in straps and buckles and shit?” I said, trying to flip the conversation entirely.

“Oh!” She seemed grateful for the change of pace. “Yes, please. I'm ready to yeet this damn bra off.”

“What's your costume even supposed to be anyway?” I asked.

“I dont know,” She shrugged. “I just put together anything that looked slutty. Call me like a black cat or something.”

I flicked the metal o-ring on her collar. “Yeah, with your kitty collar.” I meant it as a joke but i could see by the way her she ducked her head and avoided me that she was thinking of something else. “Eri, oh my god.”

“What?! I didn't say anything!”

“You didn't have to, you kinky slut. I didn't mean it like that.” She hit my chest playfully.

“Shut up!” Eri shimmied off me and stood up between my legs. Her thighs were in my face now and i couldn't help but run my hands over them and cup her ass. This was my favorite part about her and i could kiss them for hours if she let me. I felt her tap my forehead. “Now you're being the slut. Come pick something for me to wear. I don't know where your clothes are.”

I patted her ass, beckoning her to move so i could get up myself. She moved back and headed towards my room. I was still slowly getting up from the floor when i heard her gasp. “What happened?!” I panicked and went to her side. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary though. “What's wrong?”

“Who's room is this? It's so clean!” She clutched her chest, over dramatically, and looked around. “There's no starbucks cups! And it smells so nice! Clothes are in the laundry basket! Oh my!”

“Ha ha, very funny. Sometimes cleaning your room during a severe depression episode helps. I just wanted something to help make me feel better.”

I went over to my closet while she poked around still raptured by the fact that she could now see my floor. I pushed through some of my gym shirts and button ups and found a hoodie that i thought might fit her. I pulled it out, waiting to hand it over to her, when i saw her fingers dancing over the keys of my electric keyboard. Her attention turned towards my acoustic guitar after, her head cocking just a bit to the side.

“So i'm not the only one with a music secret?”

“I dont keep it a secret. I make music with the guys all the time. It's just been really hard lately.”

“Mhm…” Eri pressed her lips together, her eyes darting to the left as if she was mulling over something. “So...if you're in journalism are you doing music journalism like I am?”

I shook my head and kind of laughed. I guess school and life shit never came up between us when we were fucking each others brains out. “No, photojournalism actually. I'm getting a minor in music production but I want to do mostly photojournalism.”

“I don't think you can get a degree by taking thirst trap gym pictures for instagram, Johnny boy.” She nudged my shoulder back playfully and i just rolled my eyes at her.

“I don't just take those kinds of pictures. I do other stuff. Better stuff. More meaningful stuff.” I leaned back against my dresser, the hoodie still in hand as i waited for her to start disrobing. She began with the collar, unbuckling it from around her neck and letting it fall against the harness. She turned towards me when she struggled to get to the straps behind her. I set the hoodie between my knees and pried at the metal clusterfuck. She pulled her hair over her shoulders. My eyes instantly went to the tattoos she had across her shoulder blades. I was tracing over the designs in my mind, falling deep in thought and not hearing what she was saying. I trailed up to her neck and could see the faintest dark mark from where my fingers dug into her throat. I swallowed hard. I don't know what had possessed me to give in to what she wanted. Choking wasn't something i had ever wanted to do yet she had somehow seduced me into it like some sort of vinyl clad succubus that had control over me with that little word she mistakenly (or not so mistakenly) uttered.

She looked back at me. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh? What?” I blinked and refocused on getting the straps of the harness loose. “Uh, what did you say?”

She pulled off the harness and took off her bra, sighing in relief. “I said i want to see some of your “meaningful stuff” since you said you're not always taking thirst trap pics and gym selfies.”

“Oh! Uh...i mean sure.” I handed her the hoodie which she slipped on before discarding the rest of her clothes and her boots. She looked much more cozy than before and i found myself preferring this look rather than her glammed up dominatrix gear. The sleeves of my hoodie were too long for her arms, dangling far past her small hands. She swung her arms a bit, wiggling her hips as she watched the excess fabric flop around. I couldn't help but laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

She wiggled her arms out at me. “I don't know. They're so long on me it makes me think of an octopus.” She shrugged and became a little bit more reserved. “Sorry, i kinda do weird shit all the time.”

“Yeah, you definitely are weird that's for sure.”

“Tell me something I dont know.”

“I used to do this parrot impression for my mom when i was a kid.” I said.

“What in the fuck?” She laughed, covering half of her face with her sleeves as if to hide from second hand embarrassment.

“That's something you don't know but now you do. And i would show it to you but i don't think you deserve to see my great skill.”

“PLEASE, spare me. I don't want to hear you squawk like a parrot for the love of god.” She pawed at me with her hand as she stepped closer and set her head on my chest. I subconsciously wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled out my phone. I went to my photography Instagram and held it out for her to see.

“But anyway, parrot impression aside, here's my photography stuff. I mean it's not great or anything but...you know, i like it.”

She pushed the sleeves up her arms until her little hands were free and grabbed my phone, scrolling through my pictures. I felt my heartbeat increase with nervousness. I think i might've been scared to hear what she actually thought of my work; i guess i was putting value on her opinions and possibly wanting to...impress her? I was half prepared to hear that it all sucked but definitely not prepared for what she actually said.

“Johnny, you're so beautiful.”

I whipped my head towards her, stunned completely at those little words that i had never heard coupled together in my entire life. “W-what?” She angled my phone so i could see a self portrait i had done of me during the sunset. I thought it was a weak composition but for her to think that i was actually...beautiful? “It’s just...it's just a self portrait. I was just trying to experiment with lighting and-”

“You're beautiful, idiot. And talented. I love all of these.” She scrolled some more and almost let out a dreamy sigh. “This one...this one is perfect.” The new tile she had expanded was that of my eye filtering through the brightness of the sun and bringing out the kaleidoscope of colors my iris could make. Her cheeks looked a little warmer and i could have sworn she had let out a tiny giggle of pleasure.

“What? It's just my eye.”

“Yeah but your eyes are that perfect shade of brown that can do all sorts of things. I remember at the party right before you kissed me, the kitchen light reflected in them and they turned into a warm honey color and it was...um...nice. Sorry…” Her excitement seemed to die down and she handed my phone back to me. “I kinda made it weird…”

My palms were started to sweat again and i couldn't quite figure out how to respond. No one had ever talked about me or any of my features in that manner. I could say the same about her but currently my throat was turning into a knot. I pulled away from her and tossed my phone on my desk trying to focus on anything else. She padded over to my bed and sat down, keeping her distance and vow of silence. The only thing that interrupted it was the loud growl from her stomach. I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. “I take it you’re hungry?”

“Well...It may have been like...6 hours since I actually ate at work.”

“Eri. Seriously?”

“Look, I had to start getting ready for the party. It takes me an hour and a half to look like this!” She circled her hand around her face that (though a little messed up now) had makeup caked on that made her look like some alternative Instagram model.

“Oh my god. Ok, can I interest you in a carpet picnic of-” I thought to what I had in my fridge. “A bunch of pizza rolls and french fries, a half bottle of bottom shelf whiskey, and some cigarettes that you entirely loathe but will smoke anyway?”

“Oh Johnny!” She giggled jokingly. “How utterly romantic. You know a way directly to my heart.”

I shrugged. “What can I say, i’m a charmer. I’m gonna put the pizza rolls in.”

“Uh, should I just stay in here?”

I shrugged. “Do whatever you want, babe.” I headed towards the kitchen and grabbed the giant bag of pizza rolls and fries from the freezer. I pulled a mostly clean baking sheet from the oven and dumped the food on it. I tried to remember when I even kept the shitty whiskey. I checked the fridge and thankfully it was way in the back behind some old chinese cartons and milk. I pulled it out and set it on the counter, finding some leftover plastic shot glasses I normally used for parties. Just as i was setting the food in the oven she joined me in the kitchen, hopping onto the counter and opening the whiskey.

She poured out two shots and held it out to me. “You need it.”

“I need to become an alcoholic to deal with all the shit im going through.” I chuckled. We held up the glasses up in a silent toast before tossing them back. She instantly poured us another one.

“Don't become an alcoholic. I'm already the alcoholic in this relationship. You're the delinquent drug user and nymphomaniac.”

“Excuse me. I am not a nympho. I can go without sex.”

“Wanna bet?” She smirked and tossed back another shot.

“No. I know i'd lose.”

“I know, that's why i want to. Since i'll win i can ask you to do a favor for me.”

“Oh no.” I protested already seeing that devilish look in her eye. “I don't trust you.”

“C'mooonnn. Dont be a chicken. I won't make it so bad. Let's see if you can last until tomorrow. I'll make it easy.” She propositioned.

“Fine. I can do until tomorrow.” I drank my shot and set it down on the counter, rubbing my chest at the after burn.

Suddenly, Eri was caressing my face, guiding me towards her for a gentle kiss. “In all seriousness i'm glad you're okay after everything. Physically, i mean. I'm sure you're still working on the mentally.”

“I'll be fine, Eri. One day at a time, yeah?”

She nodded and hummed a little in agreement. My lips hovered over hers for a moment, hesitating before giving in. I wrapped my hand around hers, pulling it away from my face to entwine our fingers together. Our kiss was much more slower than before, so that way she wouldn't complain about me hurting her sore lip. Between our tongues tangling I could hear the soft moan of my name. I pulled away just a bit. “Hmm?”

“I could kiss you for hours.” She confessed, adding a gentle squeeze to my hand. I nodded against her, my breath speeding up as my heart thundered.

“That's for damn sure. You're always driving me crazy with those lips of yours.”

“I could say the same about you.” She sealed her statement with another kiss, driving us into another session unaffected by time and boredom. That was until i smelled the beginnings of something burning.

“Fuck!” I pulled away from her quickly and rushed to grab a pot holder. I opened the oven door and saw that the pizza rolls were getting a bit too brown but I was able to save them before they were little charcoal blocks. I took the whole pan out and set it on top of the stove to let it cool. 

“Good job, chef.” Eri chuckled as she poked at me with her foot.

“Well, if I hadn't been distracted then maybe I could've taken them out in time.” I swatted at her foot gently, scrunching away when she continued her playful pokes. “I'm gonna beat your little ass.” I joked.

She jumped down from the counter and over my shoulder I could see her walking towards the couch. “Ooh, spank me, Daddy.” I could tell she was joking but the coy little look on her face told me she was still testing those forbidden awkward waters. I shook my head; this chick was ridiculous and I loved it. I grabbed some plates for us and loaded them up, tucking the bottle of whiskey under my arm as i balanced everything. I set the plates down on the coffee table and plopped down beside her in front of the couch.

“Wanna watch something?” I suggested.

She nodded. “Put a scary movie on or a serial killer documentary. It helps me fall asleep.” She ended her sentence with a yawn.

“You fall asleep to the sound of people getting murdered?”

“Yeah, doesn't everyone?” She laughed. “I’m just used to the sounds and the documentaries are soft spoken. It's nice background sounds.”

“Alright, weirdo.” I complied with her request, searching through my netflix for something she deemed interesting enough. We eventually settled on Friday the 13th and fell into a rhythm of eating, laughing at the terrible acting, and Eri telling me her favorite things about scary movies. It was almost stereotypical but she was absolutely adorable when she got so passionate about describing her favorite type of movie blood, murder weapon, and trope. Occasionally she would feed me a pizza roll or french fry and laugh when it was too hot and burned my tongue. Spending time like this, just hanging out without any craziness, parties, or people around us was amazing. She was becoming more than just a pretty face and a sex god. She was actually showing her personality. It was my turn to say that she was showing her humanity.

When the food was done and whiskey gone i realized that we were cuddled up together in front of the couch. I had gotten a blanket from my room to make sure she was warm enough and changed into some temporary pjs. Her eyelids were getting heavier and she was on the verge of completely passing out. “Eri, baby, you want to go to my bed?”

She perked her head up, sleepily. “No, no. We're watching the movie.”

“It's almost done.”

“Hmm, stay here.” She tugged on my shirt, keeping me close. I sighed and complied, even though my ass was starting to get sore from sitting on the floor all this time. I kissed the top of her head before sinking down so i could rest my head in her lap. It gave my back a break and my tailbone some room to breathe. Her fingers combed through my hair, pushing it back and scratching at my scalp every once in awhile. That in of itself was like a lullaby to me. I felt my eyes getting heavy and heard the soft hums of a song i half recognized. I set her other hand on my stomach, letting her fingers crawl underneath my tank top to rub at the skin there. This was amazing. Everything felt so warm and perfect and I thought I could finally sleep in peace.

But I was fucking wrong.

I don't know how long it took for me to slip into a panic. Flashes of Rixi and my past mistakes were dancing behind my fluttering eyelids and I tried to push them away. My breath was gone. All i could do was let out a harsh rasp as if something was choking the life out of me. My heart felt like it was going to explode any moment. The damn void surrounded me and swallowed me up, replaying my internal screams until i felt my body shake hard.

“Hey, hey! Johnny, baby, look at me. Are you ok?”

My eyes flew open and I shot up, trying to suck in air with heavy gasps. I felt sweat pouring down the sides of my face. I was trembling and couldn't control it. It finally clicked that I was at home and had been for a few hours. Eri was still beside me, complete fear staining her face. Her silhouette was surrounded by the light of the tv in an almost angelic halo. My heart continued to storm throughout my entire system and made my ears thunder. My breath still couldn't catch up with the rest of my body and it was a battle to try and focus on getting a single inhale. I could see her mouth moving but the words weren't registering. I tried clutching at her, screaming for her to help pull me out, but my limbs were dead and it felt like she was still out of my grasp no matter if I tried or not.

“Johnny! Look at me! I need you to focus!” I heard her snap her fingers as she turned my head towards her. Her voice was finally hitting my ear drums and I blinked a few times as I came out of my confused stupor. She set one of my hands over her heart. “Do you feel the way I’m breathing? I need you to do that with me right now.”

I looked down at my hand then back up at her, still unable to speak. Beneath my fingers her heart was beating a little fast but her breaths were much more steady than my own. She inhaled, holding it for a moment before letting it go. “With me Johnny, come on. In and out.” She repeated her steady breaths and I inhaled with her. A sharp pain swam through my chest but I forced myself through it to exhale. In and out, in and out, over and over until the weight lifted off my ribs. God, i wanted to cry. This one was so much worse then the ones i had nights before. It scared me shitless. I pulled away from Eri and tried to stand up. “Hey, take it easy. Relax for a second.” She said, grabbing a hold of my arm to keep me down beside her.

“Let me go.” I said, more sternly than I should have. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do or how to calm down. I shook off her grip on me and went to my room, spending my time pacing like a mad man. Eventually she made her way over to the doorway, waiting for me to acknowledge her.

“Johnny…” She said softly. I shook my head, not knowing what for. Did I need space? Did I want space from her? I shook out my hands nervously, continuing my pacing. She took a tentative step towards me and tried reaching out. “Hey, I can help you through this you know.”

“You don’t-” I took another breath. “You don’t know how this feels.” My voice was a shaky mess.

“Hah,” she scoffed. “Good assumption. Trust me. I’ve had panic attacks where I went unconscious and barely remember what happened. I know what it’s like to go through something as serious as this. But you’ve got too much going on in your body right now. If you don’t take a second to stop you are literally going to make things worse.”

“I know how my fuckin’ body reacts, okay?!” I yelled. She nodded solemnly and kept quiet. I was lashing out just because I never wanted anyone to see me have a night terror. I wasn’t ready for that level of vulnerability yet, especially not with my fuck buddy that I thought about constantly and wanted to save me from myself. It was layer after layer of toxic thoughts but I just couldn’t help it. I wanted to kick her out but at the same time I wanted her to stay. I wanted her against me, i wanted her voice to keep guiding me through this. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to drink. I wanted to smoke. I wanted to be a destructive force and I had to stop. Please, I need it to stop. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know, I know. Is it okay if I touch you or are you still hypersensitive?”

“Ye-yeah, it’s ok. I was just-”

“Confused, I know.” She stepped closer and grabbed onto me, gently pushing me towards the bed. I sat on the edge, my leg bouncing furiously. She took my face in her hands and guided me to look in her eyes. “I’m right here. I’m staying right here. Do you know what you need?”

“Can you get the weed out my drawer?”

“I don’t think that may be best right now.” She said.

“I literally smoke it for anxiety.”

“Yeah but...no offense- actually kind of full offense- you’re broke. You don’t get good stuff or medicinal quality shit. It’s honestly just a coping mechanism like your regular cigarettes are at this point. If you smoke enough you could probably trip but i feel like it’s going to fuck up your system. We can lay down together instead.”

“No. I’ll just get it myself.” I stood up, still unable to stay in one place for long, but she kept her small frame in front of me in hopes of blocking my every move. “Eri, move.”

“Johnny, please just hear me out-”

“Move!”

She set the sweater sleeves over her face, hiding from me completely. She finally stepped away and I could hear her small sniffles. Guilt was riddling my stomach as I went to my drawer and got out the cigarette case that held all my blunts. I lit one up, taking in a deep exhale and holding it in until it burned. “I hate seeing you like this…” She whispered.

“Yeah, well I fuckin’ hate being like this, but here we are. You can leave if you want to. Nothing’s keeping you here, especially if you don’t like what I’m doing.”

“I don’t...you need someone. I’m okay with being that someone.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

“That’s the problem in the first place Johnny. You’re closing yourself off. You have moments when you let people in but not enough for anyone to truly help you.”

“Maybe I don’t want help.” I lied.

“You do. I know you do. I know I can’t break that wall down in a day but you can trust me to be right here.”

I took another hit and kept my back towards her. We stayed in silence for a bit more while I mulled over her words. I knew what she was doing was exactly what I needed, but my defense mechanism to block out everyone was in overdrive. She was never supposed to see me this weak. No one was. I rested my elbows on top of my dressed and cradled my head in my hands. I could feel a tension headache surmounting in the back of my skull making my head pound. The shaking in my hands continued even as I puffed away. When one was done, I lit another without a moment in between, stuffing my almost full ashtray even more. Soon enough I felt her fingers grace my shoulders. The way she looked at me had me hating myself. “I don’t know what I want Eri.” My voice cracked and I took a smaller hit, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to fall.

She stood on her tiptoes, slowly moving her hands up my chest until they wrapped around my neck. I set the blunt in the ashtray and turned towards her fully setting my hands underneath her ass to pull her against me more. She kissed me then, drawn out and cautious, letting the reminder of smoke i held in flow into her mouth. Her tongue drew mines out, sucking on it deeply as her fingers danced at the nape of my neck. “This isn't good for you either.” She gasped in between the few moments of our lips parting.

“What do you mean?”

“Me.”

“You are. You're good. Too damn good for me.” I pressed my forehead against hers and begged for another kiss. She kept herself at bay, shaking her head as she moved to cup my neck.

“We shouldn't do this. It's not healthy.”

“Coming from someone who drinks and parties her problems away, i don't think either of us are fuckin’ healthy right now.”

“I try not to…” She whimpered and I realized it might have stung more than I intended. “But that's why I said I understand everything. We go through the same shit. We know when things are wrong but-”

“We keep doing them. Every time, i come back to you.”

“Yeah…” Her hand caressed my face now, her eyes flowing up towards mine to reflect every ounce of hurt I felt. “Why is fucking our solution to everything?”

I closed my eyes and grabbed a firm hold of her ass to pull her up around my waist. She wrapped her bare legs around me, squeezing me to the warmth between her thighs. I swallowed hard. “Because, nothing feels better than drowning in someone rather than dealing with pain and heartache.”

“I just want to help. I just want to make you feel better, John…” She buried her face in my neck, gripping onto me like she was going to lose me then and I led her to my bed, laying her down gently. “I don't know how else to do it, Johnny. Tell me.”

“You. Give me you.” I exhaled and pressed myself harder against her, keeping her legs wrapped around me tight. I got lost in her lips again while my hands grabbed and caressed everything I could. Her chest filled up my palm and I kneaded her breast with everlasting attention. Her tiny and barely audible moans coated my tongue as she sucked it into her mouth. My brows furrowed and i ground my hips into her center letting her know that it was exactly what I wanted. Though she looked so perfect in my hoodie I needed it off her. I reluctantly left her breast and slid my hand under the fabric, shoving it towards her shoulders. She wiggled her arms free before pulling me back down to her again. My lips covered her neck this time, flowing over the imprint I had left behind earlier.

Meanwhile, she was exploring the expanse of my back, her hands creeping lower until she grabbed my ass. The thin fabric between wasn't enough to keep her warmth or wetness away from me. If anything it drew me in more, as if i was under a spell and needed to feel how i felt just hours before. My body tensed in anticipation and i could feel myself stirring again with renewed vigor. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” She ran her fingers through my hair again, her voice a sweet invitation to pleasure. I nodded eagerly, ready to feel any and every inch of her skin against mine. She gripped my hair and used the force in her thighs to push me down on the bed, switching our positions so she was on top. I sucked in a breath, biting my lip  as I watched every move she made. My hands moved on their own accord, sliding over her thighs and grabbing a hold of the waistband of her panties. I gave her a little tug, making her fall forwards onto my chest. She planted her hand beside my head, steadying herself a bit. “You need to let me do this for you.”

“I'm letting you.” I whispered, truly believing that she was in control but she shook her head at me, snubbing me as a liar.

“No, you're not. Relax, Johnny. Don't you think i know how to treat my man?” My eyes widened at her words and my body stiffened as her lips trailed a fiery path down my throat towards my chest. I was trying to form a response but my brain faded as soon as I felt her nails drag down my ribs and her tongue flash over my nipple. I couldn’t help the curses I whispered or the fact that my hand gripped the back of her head, planting her there. The way her tongue and teeth ran over that sensitive area had me throbbing and arching towards her body. Her nails eased down from my ribs over to my stomach until they reached my pants. She pulled away from me and shuffled herself off the bed to pull them off. I lifted my hips to help her and tossed away my tank top, feeling a bit more free and less suffocated.

“What about those?” I motioned towards the simple black thong she had on. I wanted to see her again, especially as I thrusted inside her.

She shook her head. “Be patient.” She pressed herself onto her knees and spread my thighs a bit wider. I shuffled up more on the bed giving her a bit more room to comfortably stay between my legs and suck me down. My head rested back against my pillow as her lips sealed around my cock, sliding down my shaft and covering my veins in her tongue. She was driving strangled pants out of me already and I couldn't help but dig my hand into her curls again. Her hands rubbed my inner thighs, spreading warmth over them before maneuvering down to cup my balls. Her thumb rolled over each one, adding pressure every so often as her cheeks started to hollow out around as much as she could handle. I licked my lips and tried to keep as quiet as I could but this was bliss.

She popped off my cock and planted kisses to the underside of my shaft. Her mouth went lower and her tongue traced the same pattern her thumbs had across my balls. One after the other she took them into her warm wet heat and I pulled at her hair hard, wanting to fill her mouth entirely. She whimpered, the small timbre making me shudder and ease out her name within a groan. “Fuck...Eri…”

I wasn't even looking down at her but I could feel those dark eyes on me, watching my every breath and tense of my muscles. My hips could only try and press up towards her lips though she denied that satisfaction. She moved even lower, kissing and adding heated kitten licks to the sensitive area behind my balls. My body shot up, my legs tensing completely. She looked up at me innocently enough, her ass poised in the air and lips glistening. “Relax, it feels good. Trust me.”

“What is it?” I swallowed thickly.

She smirked and almost giggled. “Don’t worry.” She set her hand on my chest and pushed me back down onto the mattress while her other fingers danced across that sensitive patch of skin she had discovered. My thighs almost bucked closed but she made sure she could keep them open. She kept her place between them, taking me in her mouth again. The combination of her teasing and deep sucks made me cover my mouth to shield any loud moans from escaping. My other hand left her hair to clutch at the sheets beside me, trembling as I fisted them tight. Her tongue slid over my slit, dipping in and drawing out the bit of pre cum already leaking. I felt a throb straight through my length. It made my toes curl and my back arch a bit. I could feel my orgasm approaching and I didn’t want it to end just yet.

“Eri!”

She jumped up, licking her lips and looking at me wide eyed. “W-what?”

“N-not...um, not yet.”

She smiled and crawled her way up to my face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be inside me when you do.”

“F-fuck…” I shuddered at her words and kissed her hard, letting her wrap her delicate fingers around me and give a few pulls to my already heated and sensitive cock. I set my hand on her ass, grabbing a hold of her stupid panties and tearing at them. “N-need...now.”

She wiggled out of them, kicking them off her ankle before beckoning me on top of her. Her wish was my command and soon enough I was looking down at her as her lip stayed trapped between her teeth and she guided me in. “Slow,” She whispered. “I’m still a bit sore from earlier.”

I nodded and sunk into her heated depths. I loved the way she wrapped around me, suffocated me, letting me go as deep as I could. I set my head beside hers on the pillow, adding small kisses to her shoulder and collar bone. I heard her wince as I started my first thrust, making me stop. “Sssh, daddy’s got you.” Wait, whoa fuck. I pressed my lips together, my body frozen. Shit, i really said that. But Eri didn’t seem at all embarrassed unlike I was. Instead, she wrapped her arms under my own, spreading her fingers across my shoulder blades as she held on. If she wasn’t going to acknowledge it then I would pretend it never happened either.

“Keep going…” She said. “Please…”

This was what she wanted then. She liked what i had said and the fact that I needed her this much. Maybe she needed me as much as I needed her. Maybe we were made for each other. I shook my head and sunk my teeth into her shoulder, her pained whimper filling my ear. I kept my thrusts slow and steady even though i wanted to fuck all these intrusive thoughts away. I didn't have time to think about this. It's just a fuck, Johnny. A fuck you need to put your mind at ease and get back to sleep. It's...it's just a…

My need to tear through her at a fast pace dwindled as i realized how much the gentleness was worth it. I pulled away from her shoulder and looked at her, amazed by how fucking stunning she was. Her full lips were pouted open just enough to let the softest of mewls fill the space between us. Her hair spread across the pillows like a crown of amethyst and her beautifully rich skin glowed with a pink flush. Though her makeup was a mess she still seemed...beautiful. I was thankful her eyes were closed because she wouldn't be able to see the shock on my face. God, my head was swimming and she was devouring me. I was only getting weaker against her and she was everything I wanted.

“It's ok now,” she cooed once she felt my body pause. Her knee slipped from around my waist towards my ribs letting me sink in almost to the hilt. “You can go a little faster.”

“I don't want to hurt you.” I finally said. My voice was trembling.

She shook her head. “It won't now, baby. Trust me. I want to feel you cum.”

“I-inside?”

She buried her face against my shoulder and I could barely make out her whisper. “Just cum, okay?”

I nodded and finally sped up my thrusts getting a bit more relief than when i was going slow and feeling every painstakingly good thing about her. Her sweet little moans were driving me crazy and i kissed her again just to try and keep her quiet. I buried my fingers in her hair, forcing her head to stay close. I was afraid now, more than ever. Sometimes fear was just a reflection of what we truly desired and i was afraid of the love she was giving me. The tenderness, the worry, the support, the protection. It was all I ever wanted and now that I had it i didnt know what to do with it but push it away. The insecure thoughts in my mind reminded me that I wasn't going to be able to escape this feeling. It was solidified when my lips pulled from hers and I could see her head tossed back against the pillows. Her body was arched perfectly against me as if we were molded together. My name was the only thing she could say beside ‘please’ and it brought me closer to finishing. My hand gripped the edge of the mattress and i used the leverage to fuck her harder.

She stretched around me, her nails digging fast tracks into my skin. I knew I was close but I wanted to spend every last moment up until the end inside her. Her muscles were flexing around me making my breath fade into non existence. My body tensed and melted at the same time and i managed to slide away from her warmth. I couldn't help the groan i let out as spurt after spurt painted her inner thighs and heated center. I kept my hold on the mattress so tight I was sure my knuckles were going white. It took a few minutes for me to ground myself and fully relax. I settled my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat echo in my ears. “You ok?” She whispered.

No. On a lot of levels I was not. Even now that I had worked out some of the anxiety that sent my body into a hyper fit I still wasn't okay. I didn't know how to express that to her exactly especially since part of the reason that I wasn't okay was because i realized all too late that I may feel something deeper for her than I had ever imagined. The sex was supposed to be a cure all but now it just made me want to hide. It was too intimate and real way too fast. Why don't i ever listen to the rational side of my brain?

“Johnny?”

“What?” I grumbled, mad at myself.

She kissed the top of my head and wrapped her hand around mine. “If you can't sleep or don’t want to I’ll stay up with you.”

I sighed and rolled off her, rubbing both my hands across my face. “Nah, it’s chill. Go to sleep. I’ll be fine or whatever.”

“You don’t sound fine.” She said sadly.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Wow, great. As if anything good ever came from that sentence being uttered between two people.”

“I’m serious, my heads just still all fucked up. Thinking about a lot of shit still.”

“I know I could tell...butttt you seemed pretty eager to fuck me again. Especially now that im covered in your cum.”

I couldn't help but laugh a bit. “I'm always eager to fuck you.” I admitted.

“Well duh. I'm great in the sack.” She cuddled against me and placed a kiss on my cheek. I was kicking myself the entire time but there was a bigger voice saying fuck it. Fuck the complicated ass feelings. If you could be happy for one night, one day, then do it. I deserved it. I'm going back to having fun.

“You didn't cum.” I said suddenly with my newfound realization and motivation.

She kissed my neck this time. “Don't care. It was about you, daddy.”

That damn word again. I hadn't even had a chance to relax and I was getting worked up again. “I care. I want you to feel good too. I was being kind of selfish.”

She shook her head. “I'm telling you, you did exactly what I wanted. I wanted you inside me and I wanted you to cum and feel good.”

“Get on top of me.” I commanded.

“Johnny you seriously-”

“Princess, do you think i'm joking? Get on top of me.”

Her cheeks flared up again and her mouth hung open a little. “I...um...o-okay.” She kept her head low as she crawled back over my hips.

“Fuck yourself on me. Now.”

“You sure? I-i mean, you just came so like...you'll be really sensitive and -Ah!!” I cut off her sentence with a slap to her thigh.

“Do it, Eri. I’m over these fucking feelings eating me up and I’ll be damned if it keeps happening and ruining my time with you-with anyone.”

She let out a cute whimper and lifted her hips up a bit. She guided my still mostly hard cock towards her entrance and sunk down slowly. I hissed harshly, squeezing my eyes shut tight as her body completely overwhelmed my sensitivity. I had never felt anything like this before. She hadn’t even started moving and I already felt like I was going to cum again. I tried to steady my breathing that was building rapidly. It almost felt as intense as my anxiety attack but this was one hell of a way for my body to react. I clawed at her hips, leaving my own marks behind as she began working her ass against me. This was exactly what I needed. My mind was a fucked out mess, only being able to concentrate on how good she felt instead of everything else and my body couldn’t keep up.

We were getting lost in each other and it seemed never ending. A rough grind here, a thrust there, our hands never straying away from one another. Her neck disappeared in my palm and she pressed her thumb against my throat testing the waters of my shaking frame. She was practically saying my new found title like a prayer, over and over as if it was going to tether her to some holy plane. I could barely manage any sounds. My voice was nonexistent though I wanted to scream for her. I wanted her to know that i was losing myself and never wanted to resurface. Her thighs quivered then, her tiny fingers clutching at my neck tighter.

Her moans were becoming rougher and more staggered until she finally came like i wanted. She fell forward onto me, burying her face in my chest as small shivers went throughout her system. It was enough to make my body react, reaching another orgasm that shocked the hell out of me. I had never got off more than once in such a short time frame. It was more intense and a bit longer than before and fuck it felt amazing. I didnt know i was even capable of doing that. “H-holy fuck…” i finally managed to say. “Eri, what the fuck did you do to me?”

She was so deep in my chest that her voice was muffled. “I'm guessing you found out that guys can have multiple orgasms without cumming, huh?”

“Oh my god...since when?”

She snorted. “It takes some practice and getting used to but it's possible. They don't teach you that shit in sex ed.”

I pushed my hair back and wiped at the sweat across my forehead. “Jesus…”

“Welcome to my,” her sentence was interrupted with a yawn. “World.”

I kissed her forehead and set my arms around her shoulder as i tried to process everything that happened between us. “Sleep, ok?”

“‘M sticky…” she mumbled.

Right. Fuck. My body felt like a sack of bricks but i parted from her gently and slowly worked my way to the bathroom, grabbing my towel from the back of my door. The apartment was still quiet and the automatic timer on the tv had shut it off leaving everything is darkness. I didn't even know if Jae had come home. I'd have to check my phone to see if he had texted me at some point. I managed to not trip on anything getting to the bathroom sink and wet the towel. Briefly i looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was sticking up in random places, lipstick smeared on my mouth and neck, and my eyes red. I splashed some water on my face and washed away the lipstick before heading back to my room.

Eri was splayed out in bed, her chest rising and falling gently. I realized she had already fallen asleep. I smiled as I took in her soft features and the way her lips pouted ever so slightly. I didn't want to disturb her so i cleaned her up as best as I could, ridding her of my leftover cum. When i was satisfied with my own cleanup i dove back into bed, setting my arm around her waist. I was afraid of falling back asleep but as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out, faded, satiated, and reminiscing on feelings I shouldn't be having.

--

When I woke up it was already later in the evening. My body was still sore and tired but also starving. My hunger got the best of me and I needed something soon. I rubbed at my eyes, blinking a few times to see that Eri was still being my little spoon. I pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades and sighed contently. I felt...good. Like really good. Like a fog had been lifted from my mind. For the first time in a month i felt like I could breathe easier and was happy to be alive. This was exactly what i needed. I tried sitting up a bit so i could prepare myself to start functioning but I noticed I was trapped inside her.

When the hell did that happen?

I dont remember us fooling around after we passed out, let alone getting hard enough again to stay inside her. Her warmth feel so good, even better when she shifted and backed herself up against me more. A soft sigh fell from her lips and I wondered if I should finish whatever the hell I had started. No. If i did she would keep me in this bed all damn day and I'd never get anything done. Slowly, I parted from her, biting my lip at the heated wetness that coated my cock still. I could grab a quick shower and take care of it then. I left her in bed and went about getting a shower (and jerk off session) in, scrubbing away a day and a half's worth of sweat and sex. I got on a fresh pair of pj pants and popped in my airpods, putting on my spotify list and heading to the kitchen.

There was about a half dozen texts from Jae and the group chat had blown up with about 50 messages, mostly from Yuta. Afterall he was there right in the thick of it and apparently was arguing with T.Y. for kicking Eri out. I didn't want to think about that now and only answered Jae letting him know that I was at the apartment. I worked through the fridge, getting what wasn't spoiled and remotely related to breakfast food out to start cooking. The music hit me as i was beating some eggs and i started dancing and singing along. I was enjoying it way too much and it was the best feeling ever.

In the middle of turning my omelet over I felt hands slide over my hip bones, resting beneath the band of my pajamas pants. Looking over my shoulder i could see Eri pressed into my back nuzzling against my skin. I set my omelet on a plate and popped out an airpod. I turned around and grabbed her waist, keeping her against me. She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck making us press our forehead together. I was still grooving to the music, making her sway with me as she giggled. “What’s gotten into you this morning-afternoon-thing?”

“Don’t know,” I hummed a bit. “Just don’t feel as shitty right now.”

“Ohh, aren’t those less depression days nice? Makes you not feel like dying as much.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, just liking the way she felt against me. “Oh baby, maybe it's that look in your eyes. They been telling me she wanna leave. She's been dancing with the devil all night. it's like Hell is where she wanna be…” My own little concert was cut short when i felt her hit my chest hard. “Ouch, what the hell?!”

“You never told me you could sing you-you-stupid hot bastard!” She exclaimed.

“Oh...I’m more than just a dick you know.”

“EXCUSE?! You of all people saying that! I should hit you again!”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, fuck...oh my god. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” I shrugged. “But I was joking, mostly. Just kinda feeling the song you know? Been listening to it on repeat and I finally feel good about music again.” I said.

“Will you sing for me some more?”

“Only if you’ll sing for me.”

“Well,” She laughed. “If you want me to scream in your face I will most certainly do that. But that’s all you get from me.”

“Oh right, your emo-screamo-twig bands. Serenade me with your lyrics about death and stabbing and going against the man.”

“As long as you serenade me about taking drugs and fucking girls because ‘i’m into it’.”

I leaned back against the counter, smirking a bit. “You listen to them too?”

“I listen to a lot of things.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave me a kiss. “I’m more than just a dick you know.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “You’re fucking weird.” I grabbed her ass that I loved so much and pulled her up for a deeper kiss. She wasted no time sliding my tongue past my teeth and I could taste the fresh mintiness of my mouthwash on her. I slid my hands up my hoodie she had put on again, exposing her ass completely and about ready to fuck her on the counter, food forgotten. That was until i heard a throat clear behind us.

Eri and I separated and adjusted ourselves before turning around to see Quinn standing in the kitchen. “Well sorry to interrupt you guys tongue fucking each other's mouths but now that you're up I can finally give Eri their phone.”

“My-? Fuck, i didn't even notice! Where was it?” Eri said.

“You left it in Taeyong's bathroom. After the kinda fight thing happened and you left, Jae and I were worried about where you and Johnny might have gone off too. I luckily found it when i was trying to call you.” She handed it over to Eri. “We got to and realized that you  the apartment around 3 am and realized you guys were here because of all the ‘oh daddy’, ‘daddy, yes! Please!’ getting screamed.”

Eri and I both stood up straighter, our faces crimson and heated. “I-i...i dont know what you're talking about!” Eri tried to lie.

“Don't bother trying to cover it up. You're getting louder, Eri.”

Eri hit Quinn with the fabric of the hoodie sleeve, making Quinn laugh amidst her incessant teasing. I didn't realize that we could be heard fucking. It wasn't something i was really used to with Eri. I could handle people hearing us moan but definitely not her saying...that. I didn't want people to know about that part of us just yet-or even at all. It was way too private. “I'm gonna kill you, Quinn, I swear it!” Eri exclaimed.

“Don't get so touchy! It was kinda hot listening to you guys.”

“You listened?!” I said. “What the hell, Quinn?!”

She just shrugged. “Ya’ll were being loud! Not like I had a choice! Anyway, Eri, Yuta has been blowing up your phone so you should check in with him. And Mama Doyoung wants to talk to you asap.”

“Fuck.” Eri whispered. “Doyoung is gonna kill me. Shit, I have to call him right now.”

“Why would Doyoung kill you?” I asked.

“It’s...nevermind. I may have to go see him.”

“Oh, also, one more thing.” Quinn started. “Jae and I are going to get boba this week.”

“I love boba!” Eri interrupted.

“I know. That’s why you and Johnny are going on a double date with us.”

“Whoa, wait what?!” I couldn’t help that my voice went up a few levels. “I dont- we are not dating or going out on dates!”

“Uh- huh so anyway, if ya’ll aren’t working Wednesday, we’re going then.”

Eri looked at Quinn then at me. “Uh...um...well...it’s not like a date-date, right? Friends get boba all the time. We get boba with Lucas and Yuta! Those aren’t dates.”

“Ok, whatever you wanna say. We’re going on a double date. So like be ready. I’m gonna go back to bed. I’m too tired.” Quinn gave Eri a kiss that lasted a little bit longer than I preferred. “Let me know how it goes with Doyoung, ok?”

Eri sighed and let Quinn leave, watching as she closed to door to Jae’s room before turning to me. “I’m so sorry. Quinn gets weird when they’re cranky and tired, ignore that. We’re not going on a date.”

I stayed quiet for a moment. “Do you always let Quinn kiss you like that?”

“Uh, what? Well, like...for the most part. Why?”

“Hmm.” My hands gripped tighter around the edge of the counter. Was I actually jealous or was Quinn just annoying me as usual? Eri looked up at me as I spaced out in my thoughts.

“Do you...not like that or something?”

“I mean, you can do whatever you want with your life. Go see Doyoung or whatever too.”

“Johnny, are you jealous?” She asked.

“Why would I be? You got shit to do, it’s fine.”

She cupped my face in her hand and made me look at her even though I didn’t want to.

“I’ll come back if I can, ok? Maybe…” She kissed my neck and trailed the kisses up to my ear. “We can sleep with you inside me again? Like this morning?”

I bit my lip, hating how good that sounded. There was no reason for me to feel all kinds of weird jealousy. I knew I fuckin’ had her in the palm of my hand. “Yeah...yeah, babe. Sounds good.”

She gave me a small bite beneath my jaw. I could feel the mark she was leaving behind already surfacing. I winced for a second before nudging my head away. “I’ll try and be quick okay?”

I just nodded and turned back to my omelet, grabbing a fork to stab into it. Eri went back to my room, probably to gather her discarded halloween outfit. I noticed she was keeping my hoodie on with her skirt and thigh highs instead of all the straps and shit she wore. She didn’t say anything about borrowing it or even about asking to keep it and neither did I. When she got to the door she gave me a little wave and before she left I called out to her.

“Hey, Eri?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll go on that date with you.”

--

Eri’s Pov

I got home and showered so I didn't completely smell like weed, body spray and sex before I went to go see Doyoung. I was so tired and worn out. I felt like my whole damn uterus was about to fall out and i was all kinds of fucked up over Johnny. He was doing shit to me that I never thought was possible. I set my head against the shower wall and sighed, letting the hot water run over me. The scratches he left behind were a little bit deeper than i thought and stung under the spray. I didn't want Doyoung to see any of the marks I had since i was almost 1000% sure he was going to grill me about Johnny. I sighed as i stepped out and dried myself off. I didn't have time to deep condition my hair so it was about to be on the hot mess express and not be ready for work tomorrow. I tied it up in a bun and went to my room to pull on some fresh clothes. I looked over at Johnny's hoodie that remained discarded on my bed and bit my lip as i pulled it close. I hugged it to my chest and nuzzled the hood, taking in the smell of it. It was just like his flannel that day, warm and musky. The cologne was faded and more so smelled like him. It was perfect. Maybe when I went back to see him I would give him the flannel. After I washed it it started smelling like springtime freshness instead of him.

I pulled the hoodie on, realizing I didn't have that much time to spare. I texted Doyoung that I was on my way and left for my car. When i got to his tiny dorm room he yanked me and almost threw me on his bed. “1. What the hell, you haven't talked to me in forever!” I went to reply but he cut me off. “2. What is going on with you, Eri? I'm hearing all this shit about you and I don't even know what's up from down! 3. Did i or did I not say DONT hook up with Johnny?!”

I sighed and flopped on the bed. “Hello to you too, Doyoung.”

“Eri. Start talking.”

I told him almost everything; the hookup at the party, how we have class together, when we fucked in the bathroom, the racist prick at the beach, the bumper car, how gentle Johnny could be and that he had bad things happen to him that he didn't deserve. I didn't go into specifics about Johnny's assault or anxiety attacks; it wasn't my place to do so and I would never betray his trust like that. “He can be an asshole sometimes but he...he has a lot going on.”

“So that justifies his behaviors?”

“Of course not! I'm just saying...he isn't all bad. You cant judge someone for sleeping around when I do the same and you care about me.”

“I know that Eri.” Doyoung sighed and sat beside me. “I worry about you. I heard about a fight at Taeyongs party?”

“It wasn't a fight, but trust me I was ready to take my gauges out and end her. What happened was that this girl, this….monster, she was-” I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “She was just not a good person and I had to help Johnny get away from her.”

“Get away from her? What do you mean?”

“There's things that I can't talk about. They aren't my place to talk about. He trusted me with these things and-and all you need to know is that I would've probably gone to jail for him.”

“Oh my god Eri…”

“What?”

“You're in love with him.”

I shot up from the bed. “KIM DOYOUNG WHAT THE HELL?”

“It makes sense now. The way you guys acted at the beach, when you, unfortunately, described in detail how you guys hooked up, and now you wanting to protect him? And-” he looked at my phone as a notification came in. “Who is Heart-Heart-Big Dick Daddy-Heart-Heart?”

“What?” I looked down and unlocked my phone. When i opened the message it was a picture of Johnny with the edge of my panties between his teeth. The accompanying message was ‘forgot something?😏’. My entire face lit up and i realized Doyoung had seen it to.

“Ya'll are nasty.” He stated flatly.

“I-! It was Quinn! They took my phone because i left it at the party! His name was Johnny in the contacts before!”

“And your underwear in his mouth is-?”

I stood quiet for a moment. “Ok, we know I make bad decisions, it's not rocket science. However, i am not in love with him. I can't. I won't ever be. You know that I can't.”

“Eri, that was literally almost three years ago. It was a mistake but it doesn't automatically prohibit you from ever being capable of falling in love again.”

“It does, Doyoung because I know that I fucked up and i can never take that back. I can't risk hurting anyone again and have it on my conscious. It already haunts me every day.”

“You need to stop letting it eat at you. What happened with Jungwoo could've happened with anyone.”

“Yeah but I picked the sweetest boy in the entire world to hurt. He didn't deserve it. And i don't deserve to have someone like that in my life again.”

Doyoung sighed. “Stop thinking that way. Making a mistake doesn't make you worthless. Besides you need to face the truth if that’s what's going on now. As much as i don't approve of him, you need to come to terms with the fact that you feel something for him. It's written all over your face.”

“It is not! Please stop saying that! It's not true! It's not!” I could feel my heart clench as my breath stuttered in my lungs. The thought of love sent me into a panic. It made me think of how I ran away from it all. The pain, the doubt, the fear. It was hitting me all at once again and attacking me like some sort of monster. I felt Doyoung wrap his arms around me and set my head on his chest. His chin rested on the top of my head.

“Eri, please. It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to close yourself shut. You have love for so many people. You have the biggest heart and are always the first to protect us over anything. You have the ability to love wholeheartedly. Why is that so scary?”

“I'm not worth it...and i know you're going to tell me I am but i'm not. Before Jungwoo, my ex in high school who I spent years together with lied to my face about loving me. She said she never did the whole time we were together, Then i get to college, meet Jungwoo and became no better than her.”

“That's not true. You did love him you just…” he sighed. “I don't know how else to make you see that you deserve to be happy. Do you really care about Johnny?”

I sniffled and nodded my head silently.

“And he trusted you to reveal of whatever happened to him. He let you seem him in a state of vulnerability, right?”

I nodded again.

“Well i'm glad he has some fucking semblance of humanity and isn't just a regular fuck boy.” Doyoung kissed the top of my head. “I want you to know that I'll protect you too, ok? If he ever so much as hurts you then he'll be dead. Also if he does care about you then i don't want you to be afraid anymore. You have to face it some day and it may be sooner than you think.”

I buried my face in his chest as the beginning tears started falling. Fuck, if he wasn't right. I was still running away from things that I hadn't been able to get over. If this went any farther with Johnny would I end up hurting him too? He was the last person that deserved any more hurt. I wanted to see him smile more, dance more, sing more, have fun cooking and goofing off. I wanted us to share thousands of kisses and feel the way his heart beat beneath my fingers when I curled up against him. I wanted to be the one to support him and bring that smile to his face. I couldn't cure his depression or anxiety but I wanted to be maybe the tiniest glimmer of hope he had in knowing that he wasn't alone. We were two imperfect asteroids and when we collided sparks flew within our little galaxy and made waves of colors that represented our feelings for one another. What feelings were we even having anyway? Was it all one sided? That was another fear I couldn't face just yet. What if all this time, as i was tearing my wall down to let him in, he never felt anything at all for me. I could still probably be some hook up to him, something meaningless and unworthy as usual.

I couldn't help that I was crying harder and Doyoung didn't question any of it. He let me have my time knowing that this ate me alive and destroyed me. It was my biggest weakness and regret all compiled into one and spread like weeds to anything new I tried to let into my life. Worst of all, in the pit of my heart I knew that he was absolutely right. I was falling in love with Johnny.

[everydayanth]

I’m gonna just go ahead and say a LOT of types of people have this, just at different tolerant levels according to their... well, mood for lack of a better word, though I suspect current identity is a more accurate description. 

Jake is super extroverted, but put him in an echoey room with reverberating sound, lots of people talking to him or each other, and ask him to focus on a repetitive task for a non-given amount of time and bam, he’ll run out of energy in a minute. Remove any one of those things and he could go for hours, frickin’ energizer bunny. But just one small thing, generally involving his ears, and he’s tapped out pretty fast, utterly exhausted by the time he gets home, doesn’t want to be social in any way, derives no energy from human engagement. 

For me, my overstimulation comes in, I think, doses of multitasking. When I’m trying to think about an idea, write it, thinking of another in the back of my mind, mulling my list of errands or to-dos, and trying to comprehend some media playing in the background or noisy people at the bakery, I just lose it. Not in a snapping way, but in a draining way, I get irritated and exhausted and I don’t want to do anything with anyone or alone, I lose all focus ability.

I’m glad there’s research about the idea that’s starting to become more common and understandable, but it’s still important to relate to the reality that we probably all exist on that spectrum of sensitivity, depending on our identities at that moment. Neurodivergent individuals, and maybe many introverts, will be closer to the sensitive side of overstimulation, while others might be further away. But as with any spectrum, I would wager there’s an inverse as well, I know plenty of extraverts who thrive in chaos, Jake is often one of them when his sensitivities aren’t being overstimulated. He can exist in seemingly any type of chaotic environment that is death for me, and too much non-stimulation makes him edgy and restless, a lack of stimulation gives him the same symptoms. 

I don’t think we live in an “extroverted” world, because I’ve seen plenty of extroverts struggling with the same kind of hangover - social scorn for being too energetic or wanting too much attention or pushing too hard to connect with people (not in a creepy way, just asking a sad person if they are okay, or being willing to talk about it). I think we have a misconception about what is or should be normal that no one really fits but some are better at blending into. And that, to me, is the problem. 

Where other social misconceptions and expectations have a norm that exists as a majority expectation (white privilege, classism, etc.), the personality norm is diverse, based on a whole slew of individual identities, and in every case, it is not the majority, because it does not exist and does not have power over others except through the perception of blending. A superpower among social creatures, the real thing we are judging as an “extroverted world” is an individual’s ability to blend into that expectation, gain the right amount of attention, and flatter others with charm and charisma that makes people like them and therefore do things for them. But that’s not a real person, that’s a character, how many films do we have about that exact thing. Ted Bundy was the social slap-in-the-face to the expectation so we keep making films about murderers who fit that norm - ahhh so unexpected! While The Greatest Showman used that caricature to smooth away the sharp edges of history and show a social theory of what a good guy looks like, what a deserving hero embodies - charm, talent, determination, charisma, a leader, look at this great human. There were no flaws in his pursuit, there were no questionable ethics, he’s just an extroverted man, charming, charismatic, loves his family, you want to be his friend, what a guy!

This conversation about navigating the norm as a person of [insert adjective - like introverted] identity keeps making the rounds in different spheres, and I know that it’s part of the steps to representation, that we first have to acknowledge diversity before we can treat it as the desired expectation, but when it comes to things we all share or embody that can’t be so easily put in a clear taxonomy, let alone a dichotomy of intro/extra version, I do think we need to start shifting that conversation to questioning the norm in general.

Does the world favor extroverts? No, no it does not. Extroverted girls want too much attention, they are to be mocked or desired or feared, they are always too something (often dramatic) to be judged fairly and are dismissed for that simple flaw of being too much. Extroverted men are the same but in different ways, often too friendly to get ahead or be trusted, too boisterous, too unpredictable, too something-else. It our world of false connections and internet activity, it is neither the introvert nor the extravert who wins, it is the person whose energy is self sustained, who doesn’t need peace or connection. Sometimes this is a good thing - their work embodies their goals or a mission larger than themselves which fulfills some internal gratitude, or they found a way around those social norms and found fulfilling roles that fit their personalities. But mostly, it’s a mentally unhealthy (I suppose that’s just my opinion) mindset that navigates society by adhering to the purported norms in order to get what they desire - murder sure, but also fame and fortune, stability and wealth, vengeance or recognition. The drive is not the motivation of energy or social facilitation, it is to fit an expectation of “normal” in order to “do as thou wilt” so to speak. 

Anyway, that was a long rant and I’m cutting myself off. The author of the article does briefly acknowledge a few of these ideas, but it’s still focused on the us vs them mindset when the real subject is: over or under stimulation can cause hangover like symptoms and that sucks, especially when obligated to personal responsibilities that change without notice, like work or family.

The idea that American society praises extroverts is a bit bullshit to me and the thing we actually praise as “normal” in personality is a character that doesn’t exist in anyone, and those who utilize it as a defense are often doing so in pursuit of personal gain, relying on neither introverted nor extraverted motivations. To dismantle that, we need to stop having dichotomous conversations, but start looking at the real world through that spectrum of ability, stimulation, social connection, and how we individually manage or give value to those ideas in our lives so we can stop expecting them and begin to move toward the freedom of diversity being the expectation in being uniquely ourselves. That way, the expectation is not that you fit a norm to navigate, but that you take the time to be introspective and know thyself, and then communicate that outwardly to those around you, so you know when you are being over or under stimulated, or in some cases, those who love you, who you trust, can communicate to you that this might be the case and offer the time and space to recover and get back to a healthy place.

Anyway... thanks for coming to my TED talk. 

[chrysalispen]

Prompt #23 - Parched [NSFW]

Nero tol Scaeva/Warrior of Light. Only the last bit of it is actually explicit, but uh. Yeah. XD Check under the cut if you want to read.

==

"What I want to know," he said, peering at the label on the bottle, "is how you managed to get your hands on a 1532 Léa Monde Valens. Could set yourself up as a wine... seller... and retire from adventuring."

"Vintner. They're called vintners, not wine sellers."

He made a careless motion with one hand. "Same shit, different pile."

Aurelia swatted at him and missed. 

"You're drunk."

"As a lord," he agreed, without any rancor. "Which is to say, only somewhat."

"So... do we have any left?"

"Fortunately for you, my sweet." He paused, lifted the bottle, and perched it atop his ribcage. "See? Not a drop wasted."

"What- there's naught left, you silly bastard. Look, it's empty."

"Is it?" He blinked somewhat owlishly at her, then tilted his head forward just enough to squint at the bottle. "Oh. So it is."

“We should probably quit while we're ahead anyroad, before we're actually drunk," she said, but let out the most regretful sigh he thought he'd ever heard from her. 

At least in the last five minutes. 

Nero propped his weight up on one elbow, braced his fist against his temple, and grinned down at her. "That's alright," he said. "I may have another gift for you."

"What's that?"

"Can't say yet."

"Mm, a secret." Aurelia stretched her arms over her head and pointed her feet to tiptoes with a soft yawn. "I have one of those myself."

"And what might that be?"

"I might tell you if the price is right."

"You're charging me for information? That's your first mistake." He leaned forward and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose; the scent of wine hung on his breath, though not overpoweringly so. "While you could probably sell the remains of that bottle for as much as your house cost, I'm afraid that's all the payment I have on me at the minute."

She tugged him towards her by the collar and leaned in until his ear was a hairsbreadth from her lips, and whispered: 

"I've got plenty more where that came from. Half dozen bottles down in my cellar."

He laughed, the sound soft and deep and sweetly vague, and proceeded to body-check her. She returned his gesture with enough force that she lost her balance. Since she was still clutching a handful of his collar - and Nero had hardly been expecting a sudden lapful of Warrior of Light - she pulled him along with her, both cackling all the while. 

The pair hit the grass beneath them with a graceless thump that surprised them enough to cut the laughter into abrupt silence, turned their heads at the same moment to stare at each other, then began to snicker again.

Aurelia rolled onto her back to stare up at the night sky, her bare toes curled in the cool, dew-kissed grass. 

Mayhap it was just the wine, but she was feeling especially light and happy tonight. Most of her past namedays had passed with little comment or fanfare, especially after her father's death, and there hadn't been much cause for celebration in the years since the Calamity. This was the first time since she was a child that she'd genuinely enjoyed herself.

She hadn't actually expected Nero to agree to split a bottle of wine and watch fireworks with her rather than spend another late night sifting through his notes on Omega. He had shown up on her doorstep with flowers and a little nameday cake that she was very surprised to discover he'd made himself. Which was terribly sweet of him really, given she hadn't made any plans other than "watch fireworks and maybe get a little drunk on supposedly rare Dalmascan wine."

He rolled over and braced his elbow in the grass alongside her ribcage, peering down at her. "Something on your mind?"

"Oh- I was just thinking how much I've enjoyed myself. I know that as nameday celebrations go this isn't terribly interesting, but thank you for playing along."

His mouth slanted across hers in a kiss that was much more slow and lingering, and much less playful than the one before it. What surprised her was the way his brow came to rest against hers, third eye pressing against hers and his chin tilted to the side a hairsbreadth, just enough to rest his lips against the corner of her mouth so he could kiss her there too.

"...What was that for?"

"Nameday kisses," Nero said, as if it were obvious. "You get thirty total, one for each year. That's three down, twenty-seven to go."

"I thought it was spankings you were supposed to get on your nameday," she said. She didn't recognize her rather blatant innuendo until it had already left her mouth and his brows had lifted so high they practically took flight, and heat bloomed across her cheeks. "...I mean. Ah."

"That can be arranged," he drawled. "Perhaps after we’ve cracked another bottle. I currently find myself feeling a bit parched."

"All that wine and you’re still not done?"

She sucked in a sharp breath at the scrape of his teeth along the column of her neck, the damp downwards trail of wet kisses he left on his way to her collarbone, then across that expanse to place a kiss on each of her shoulders. Just as suddenly he moved to sit up, all the close warmth of him gone, and Aurelia let out a small and disappointed whine. Her skin felt as though he'd set it afire, warm and prickling gooseflesh, and her nipples had pebbled beneath the soft cotton of her dress.

"That's seventeen and eighteen," he said.

She startled at the roughened warmth of his open palm on her knee. The smile Nero currently wore was that lopsided, mischievous grin that he always gave Cid when he was about to prove himself Hydaelyn’s most insufferable git, but his eyes had taken on an intense and hungry shine, and something inside her clenched at the sight of it.

She'd been expecting him to do something, just from that smouldering stare. But the pressure of his lips and the light scrape of his stubble along the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh was still enough of a shock that she let out a tiny yelp, squirming in place where he'd all but pinned her to the ground.

"Nineteen."

"Scaeva, for the Twelve's sake-"

"Hush. I'm thinking," he said, almost absently, and kissed her again in the same spot. He'd braced himself between her legs with one rough cheek pressed against her thigh, blunt fingernails scraping very gently along her outer flanks from her knees to her hips. "Twenty."

About what, exactly, she wanted to ask, but she kept getting caught on the slow tingling sensation of those nails dragging across her skin. Her heart sounded thunderous in her ears, and all the dizzy humor of the evening had been set aside for the nonce. 

Those deft hands paused on her hips, long fingers sliding beneath the sides of her smallclothes -- not to inflame but to explore. Mostly. The slow and maddening stroke of his thumbs tracing the ridges of her hip bones made her painfully aware of his relative proximity to other things.

His eyes met hers.

"May I?" he asked, the question almost absurdly polite given their current positions.

Aurelia swallowed, the sound seeming to drown out even her heartbeat, and nodded.

She heard the rustle, felt the slight friction of them as he slid the fabric with an obvious and deliberate slowness down her legs, and continued on his path. This time the kisses moved slowly upwards, with him murmuring his current count between each one until he had her anticipation nearly at fever pitch-

-and then it never happened. Instead she felt his mouth on her hipbone, the sweetly pleasant sting of a little nip.

"Thirty," Nero announced. 

It was the most absurdly cheerful tone she'd heard from him since he'd got one over on Cid, joining the Ironworks.

Aurelia scowled at him with all the ferocity she could muster. He was wearing the same stupid, insolent shite-eating grin now as he nuzzled her lower belly with his cheek, just above her mons.

"You godsdamned tease," she accused him, annoyed at how breathless and vulnerable she sounded in that moment, "you did not just-"

As it happened, Nero had simply been waiting for her to get good and annoyed - and distracted - before he made his move, right in the middle of her tirade. 

She felt the soft heat of his breath almost in the same instance as she felt the slick, hot, and shockingly intimate slide she wanted right where she needed it, and the sound she made was like nothing she'd ever heard come out of herself before.

Her back snapped into an arch, fingers knotted deeply in a handful of thick blond hair, hips twitching against him with each of the slow and even strokes that laid her open. She was so desperate to ground herself that she did pull his hair, once, and the reward she earned for it was a soft and very satisfied rumble right up against her core.

"Fuck," was all she was able to manage, in a hoarse and shaking voice, and that made him redouble his efforts until all she could do was writhe on the grass. Never mind the Ascians or the Empire; she was going to die right in the middle of the Shroud, murdered by Nero Scaeva and his godsdamned mouth.

It was not terribly long before Aurelia felt the telltale pressure and a blossoming heat, knew she was close, and then he took her clit into his mouth, suckling once, twice, and it was her undoing. 

She let out a trembling cry, every muscle taut and trembling, fingers digging furrows into the grass as she rode out her climax. 

There was a soft, pleased sigh between her legs as he lapped carefully at her through the series of small shocks that followed, releasing her only when she whined from incipient overstimulation. 

Once she'd managed to catch her breath, moving sluggishly on limbs that felt through the afterglow as though they weighed about ten tonzes apiece, she pushed herself up on trembling arms into a half-sitting position to glare down at a man who looked utterly satisfied with himself.

And utterly unrepentant.

"What?" Nero was all wide-eyed innocence, except for his smile, which had turned positively feral. "You can't forget the one to grow on."

"You scoundrel. You absolute gremlin." She was laughing weakly. She couldn't help it. Gods, he really was the worst man she'd ever met. "Have you had your fill, Master Scaeva, or are you still parched?"

"Not sure,” he said. “I think that question might warrant a bit of investigation.”

Yes, she decided as she dragged him towards her for a kiss, this was definitely the best nameday she'd had in years.

[dumpsterfireblog]

JENN’S *FUN* TOP 10: WEEK OF 7/24

A shit-ton of k-pop artists have had comebacks recently, which is simultaneously exciting and very overwhelming. I can really only handle a couple at a time (because I’m old and frail and overstimulation will likely cause a heart attack and subsequent death), so I purposely staggered listening to them. The ones that I have heard so far haven’t disappointed, even if there’s a stylist or two out there that need to be crucified asap. In any case, that makes this particular week’s top tracks a little stacked towards k-pop. Complaints can be sent straight here.

1. Red Flavor (빨간 맛) - Red Velvet

Is it too early to say that Red Velvet saved summer? It’s pretty rare for me to love a girl group song at first listen (it usually takes a few repetitions for the full Earworm Effect to sink in). Red Flavor somehow managed to dig itself so far back into my head that I would hear Irene’s voice (“ 빨간 맛... 궁금해 Honey~”) constantly throughout the day, sometimes even when I was listening to other songs. That’s right, Red Flavor bullied its way onto the #1 spot of this list. I love how summery and upbeat this track is, not to mention how goddamn catchy it is. SM taking me on a wild LSD trip with the music video was just the cherry on the cake. The song definitely has major Happiness vibes, but I hated Happiness. I don’t know. I’m fickle.

2. Palette - IU

Basically a sequel to IU’s 23 (which, until now, was indisputably my favorite song from her), Palette came as a pleasant surprise when I stumbled across it in May. I’m a big fan of the relaxed, yet self-assured mood of the track... enough to have listened to it multiple times before every job interview I’ve gone to in the past two months. Her breathy vocals might not be the pinnacle of technique, but it sure sounds good to me. GD also ‘softens’ his rap to match the song, and it all fits quite naturally. The only problem I can find is that IU claims that she’s 25, even though she looks the same as when she was 15. Immortal vampire or not, I like the direction that IU is going with her music and I hope she manages to escape the ‘idol’ sphere and make it as an artist.

3. Really Really - WINNER

I’ll be honest, I know next to nothing about WINNER except that they were picked from a YG survival show and that both 센치해 and BABY BABY have gotten stuck in my head for extended periods of time. Really Really surpasses both of those songs by a long shot. What can I say? It’s a catchy song. A house track that’s chill enough that I can listen to it on repeat without feeling exhausted, yet interesting enough that it never gets boring is a gem to find. Plus the “널 좋아해” - pause - chorus drop make my ears happy every time I hear it.

4. Get Used to It - Ricky Montgomery

I wasn’t exactly sure which Ricky Montgomery song to put on this list, because I’ve been listening to This December, Get Used to It, and Last Night on a continuous loop. Get Used to It represents everything I like about Ricky Montgomery. It’s bouncy, quirky, and catchy as hell. It’s also just light enough to be a song I can listen to in the background without even realizing that I’m humming along.

5. The Eve (전야)- EXO

EXO finally made a comeback this week with The War, and everyone is in a craze about the cocoa puffs. After a full listen of the album, I would actually say that I prefer The Eve over their actual title track. I much prefer the chill side of EXO ( 으르렁 is still my favorite song from them) and this pleased my little ears more than the aggressively hype Ko Ko Bop. It also manages to be a little moody when it gets to the chorus, which was a nice twist. From the pop rock intro to the strangely enjoyable sax sample (to D.O. saying “What’s the situation”... not that I’ve been replaying that recently), The Eve is the true standout track on their album to me. Kai’s hair was fixed for the live performance of this, so that automatically gives the song a point over the rest.

6. Dinosaur - AKMU

I’ve been rooting for AKMU ever since their audition on Kpop Star, and I can only really think of one song that I’ve ever disliked from them since (and even then, it was because it was too generic but not particularly bad.) When I saw the teasers for their comeback, I didn’t know what to think. Was it a spoopy song? Their pictures made it look like they were in a horror movie or something. Even with that in mind, Dinosaur still caught me off guard. The song is a departure from the siblings’ usual heavily instrumental/acoustic sound and a foray into the magical world of EDM. But AKMU can’t just do EDM the way everyone else does it. Unlike some of the other songs in this genre, Dinosaur doesn’t overload you with unnecessary synth sounds and keeps itself simple, light, and refreshing. It’s fitting for both the summertime and the song’s theme of childhood dreams and innocence. Suhyun’s clear voice cuts through the music and it lifts your mood just listening to it. All in all, AKMU continues making good music, which isn’t really a surprise.

7. 4 O’Clock - RM & V

I completely missed this song when it was released during BTS Festa (Bless me Jinsus, for I have sinned) and finally got around to listening to it once I caught up. 4 O’Clock (or ‘Your Poem’) is nothing short of beautiful. There are so many good things about this song: V singing in his natural baritone (AMAZING), the absolute poetry that are the lyrics, Vocal Monster making a late appearance... the only downside is that this is meant for a different season. My favorite part has to be when V imitates the call of a mourning dove while singing “Where are you” because it gets me sentimental as shit. This is definitely something that fits the mood for staring contemplatively out of your window at 4AM, feeling soppy about nothing.

8.  Let’s Get Breakfast - Walter Mitty and his Makeshift Orchestra

This song has always been a treat to listen to, and it’s just a pity that it’s so short. Let’s Get Breakfast is a sweet and fluffy song that is also incredibly addicting. Its simplicity is also a strong point, with just a voice and acoustic guitar helping the song keep its authenticity and charm. I know literally nothing about this band or any other song that they’ve made, but I’ve never felt like I needed to know more... only because this song can keep be occupied enough to not need anything else.

9. As if it’s Your Last (마지막처럼) - BLACKPINK

Another comeback that’s a summer bop. I heard a lot of people complaining that this wasn’t as hard-hitting as they expected, but YG did announce beforehand that this was going to be the first ‘PINK’ song that the group released. The chorus of 마지막처럼 sounds more like old-school kpop than anything else, and that’s not a bad thing. Lisa gets another iconic rap segment to add to her resume, and Jennie makes sure that you know she can sing. This isn’t my favorite song from BLACKPINK, but it’s fun and easy to listen to. I found myself putting it on whenever I wanted something to fill the silence.

10. Leave Out All the Rest - Linkin Park

When I heard that Chester Bennington committed suicide, I didn’t really know what to do but go back and listen to all of the Linkin Park songs that I had grown up with. They were all painfully relevant, but Leave Out All the Rest was the one that I ended up listening to the most. In a way it was me mourning a part of my childhood, so it only makes sense that this makes it on the list.

[spiritmender]

A Psychiatrist’s take on “Crazy” in Orange is the New Black

“Crazy” appears to be a beloved Deus Ex Machina in television and films. Just imply someone has mental illness and a writer is free to create any ole improbable scenario that furthers the plot, and Poof! “Crazy” explains it.

Only, the unintended impact for this handy writer’s tool is to create further distrust, misunderstanding and stigma for conditions that nearly 20% of the population is dealing with at any given time.

Let’s take the example of Orange is the New Black, a show that gets a lot of things right, and this one thing, repeatedly and stunningly, very wrong.

The reality of film and TV is that medical details are often horribly wrong. Ok. It takes me, as a physician, out of the experience for moments at a time, but I suck this up. I realize that most people neither know nor care that falling in and out of a coma happens much less frequently than you might think for the number of times we see it on TV, or that CPR chest compressions are usually filmed so wrong its comedic. You don’t want to watch a medical show with a physician since you won’t get through it without copious scoffing and outbursts (as my husband can attest), but I can and do laugh and move on.

But getting mental illness so wrong has consequences. In Orange is the New Black, Suzanne Warren is the longest running and most notable character with mental illness on the show, although Lorna Moretti and Lolly Whitehall (a limited run character in seasons 3 and 4) are additional examples.

Suzanne, played by Uzo Aduba, is lovable and eccentric. Aduba plays the role as sympathetic, which is not an easy task for a character who is in one moment wise, the next moment obsessive, and the moment after that destroying ceiling tiles and physically assaulting other inmates. Except that this character is beyond fictional - she is all the stereotypes and none of the reality of mental illness. As I watch the show, I find myself wondering if I have just stepped into someone’s utterly ignorant mind’s eye about what mental illness is. The message Suzanne conveys about mental illness is that it’s erratic, violent, theatrical, and childish. The fact that she is shown as a sympathetic character is a very small bonus in what is overall a cluster of a character development.

But mental illness is rarely any of these things. I can’t even figure out what Suzanne is supposed to have. Is she developmentally disabled? That would explain the child-like qualities. Except so much of the rest of the character doesn’t fit. Is she autistic? That would explain why she is so easily overstimulated, but nothing else fits. Is she schizophrenic because she sometimes talks to people that aren’t there? Except that’s a ridiculously inaccurate stereotype of people with schizophrenia who really almost never do this, and the rest of her behavior doesn’t jive with this. I’ll spare you the rest of my internal dialogue, because even more troubling is how she is used as a plot point in the story of the 5th season.

Orange is the New Black: The Bizarre 5th Season Mental Illness Story Line

The 5th season mental illness story thread involves Lorna, whose character is more realistic as someone with mental illness, possibly delusional disorder, lashing out after someone calls her “crazy.” She takes it upon herself to play doctor of the rioting prison and begins withholding psychiatric medication on the belief that mental illness doesn’t actually exist. So she withholds Suzanne’s undisclosed medication from her, and we watch Suzanne rapidly deteriorate into the aforementioned violent, erratic, theatrical child. So another character decides Suzanne needs medication and grabs lithium - ah the maligned lithium - and gives her a dose of it to calm her down. Except Suzanne slips into a coma due to this one dose of lithium. A COMA, of course! So there’s a whole drama as they try to save Suzanne by wheeling her around the prison. They find an EpiPen, and stab her with it, and like in Pulp Fiction, she suddenly returns to life completely back to normal. (#*@%&(@#%

This story line is so nonsensical I find myself actually offended. Lithium is not a sedative, and even 1, 2 or 3 doses of it would not put someone into a coma. Seriously if any one on the writing team even took 30 seconds to google lithium, they would know this. But instead, the writers use lithium and poor confused Suzanne as a plot device and in so doing further stigmatize psychiatric medication (as if lithium needed any further stigma). 

The message is, lithium is dangerous, even a single dose could put you into a coma, and “crazy” people need to be sedated.

I know no one writing Orange is the New Black was thinking, “I don’t care about people with mental illness,” or “this is ignorant but I’m going to write it anyways.” I imagine it just seemed like an interesting story line, so why not? If the writers don’t know the difference, then most people won’t either, right? 

Except, do you know how hard it is for me to talk to a person about the possibility they might have bipolar disorder? 

It feels like a death sentence for many people. 

Do you know how many people balk immediately at the mention of lithium, 

even though it has advantages over other bipolar disorder medications, and manageable risks if well monitored? Well, why wouldn’t you if a single dose could put you into a coma? 

These ignorant portrayals of mental illness happening in highly popular shows further these stigmas and make societal acceptance, treatment and life in general harder for people with mental illness. 

Do we as a society want the 20% of people at any given time who are suffering from psychological symptoms to have even higher barriers to seeking care?

Mental illness is not synonymous with “crazy.” 

People can and do act “crazy” without any discernible form of mental illness. 

Mental illness is rarely violent, childish or theatric. 

And there are plenty of valid criticisms of psychiatric medications, but that a single dose of lithium might cause a life-threatening coma is not one of them. 

Can the entertainment industry please stop using mental illness as a catch all plot device? Please take a moment, just a single moment, to do an online search before you codify an ignorant stereotype into your writing. Or better yet, talk to an expert. I’m sure there are plenty of us who would gladly speak with you about what is within the realm of possibility and what is not. Hey, I would do it for free just to see better portrayals of people who live with mental illness. I think this could decrease the spoken and unspoken judgements so many people live with every day. It is widely thought that Will & Grace and Modern Family were able to bridge a divide with the American people to reduce stigma against homosexuality by portraying gay characters as actual human beings - you know, people with lives, jobs, friends, goals and dreams. There is power in stories.

So, next time you’re writing a mentally ill character, seriously, call me.