#selfish while trying to be a good friend and partner

[messenger-of-babel]

Three Year's the Charm

Summary: You're nervous to make yourself known as Bruce's partner at his annual winter gala. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 1.4K

Notes: Please see the note attached to the Christmas Masterlist! Due to unforseen circumstances I've had to slow and put a pause entirely for some places. I'm going to try and double posts when I can. Much love and Merry Christmas!

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Christmas was supposed to be a time of peace, of getting together with family and friends. To open presents in front of a roaring fireplace, to eat baked treats with festive drinks. 

Your Christmas was shaping up to be wildly different. Sips of alcohol or eggnog made you more nervous as you watched guests pile in, filling the foyer of the manor.

This year’s tree was magnificent, covered in blue and silver and stretching to the ceiling of the ballroom. You had watched Alfred give harsh instructions to the workers setting it up, standing at the top of the stairs like a foreman till it was perfect. Bruce had told you it was his pride and joy each year, and it was better to not get involved when Alfred was tasked with decorating the tree. The year before Alfred had often for a beautiful golden look, and the year before had been a wonderful red and white combination.

This was like any other Wayne Christmas Gala, (you had attended three so far) except this time, you were going to be introduced on the arm of THE Bruce Wayne, the namesake and host of the entire thing.

While you two had been in the talking phase Bruce had an excellent handle on his public image, and any paparazzi that managed to steal a snap from you was unable to locate it when they went to work the next day. You relationship had been reduced to his hand on your thigh when you went for late night drives, or even later romps in the back of his car with tinted windows. Stolen kisses normally held behind the enormous Christmas tree once all the guests had gone were now to be on display for all to see, and more accurately, for every glare. 

You weren’t a stranger to the way that the public cast looks to every supermodel, reporter, and actress that had been on the playboys arm over the years. You had seen the snide glares and haughty stares afforded to his partners, and you know that once you walked down those steps on his arm you’d be next. 

When you feel him step behind you, warm palm on the hand of your back, you tense. “You’re worried.” He murmurs, voice low as he scans the ballroom below. “It’s not a good look on you.”

You cast your eyes back. “It’s hard to not be. I’ll be torn apart by angry women and billionaire men alike. What a Christmas.” You mutter back. 

“It won’t be so bad, baby, I promise.” He says, moving his hand in circles to try and sooth you. “But if you prefer we can-“

“No.” You sigh. You had thought about that all day and had been half tempted to ask him to call it off. But you couldn’t.

In The early years of your relationship you didn’t mind being a secret, knowing that Bruce wished he didn’t have to keep you out of the light either. Yet as they wore on and you fell for him more, you got selfish. You wanted him to yourself.

So even if it came with the stares and made the pit of dread coil in your stomach, there was still the part of you that wanted to be with him down there under those Christmas lights.

“I want this.” You say softly. “I mean, I want to be with you. Properly.” You give him a small smile. “Besides, I’ve just gotten Damian to like me. I’m not going to back down at something infinitely less scary.”

Bruce gives a chuckle to that and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You really did get him to warm up, in the end.” He teases.

“I don’t know if I’d consider him warm, but he’s definitely less cold.”

“Oh come on, he shows affection.”

“Just last Tuesday he rolled his eyes in my direction and muttered something under his breath in Arabic.”

“See? He does that to me all the time too.”

“I don’t know if that’s an affectionate thing either.” You laugh, grinning wider when he lightly pecks your shoulder. His warm hands pat down your sides and you step towards the staircase yourself.

The chatter was like a low hum as Gothamites socialised below, drinks in hand as they circled the floor like well dressed sharks. “Don’t worry,” Bruce whispers, smiling softly as if to encourage you. “I’ve got you.”

With a squeeze of his hand you moved your other to the banister, steeling yourself as you both begin to descend the stairs. As if your first step set of an alarm, heads began turning your way and narrowing in on your form. Each step down, every inch down the curved staircase made conversations hush. You could feel the stares piecerce through your outfit, discoing you from the inside out.

Were you good enough for Bruce? Had they seen you before? Were you famous? What were you this time? A swimsuit model? A CEO? From old money? New money? A stray from the side of the street? An accountant on wall street?

The questions were heavy in the air, easily crushing out the Christmas spirit that the band weakly tried to keep alive. When you hit the final step and felt the smooth marble of the ballroom floor beneath you, the feeding frenzy started. They began to circle you and Bruce, smiles shining and fake.

They offered you greetings, and handshakes and smiles,  but the beating of your heart made it hard to focus on them. Silently you looked up for Bruce, and he understood what you were asking.

“Everyone,” He called into the crowd, tone charming and sly smile on his face. At the sound of their host the guests turned like dogs, focusing in on the billionaire in front of them. “I hope that everyone is enjoying the festivities, please, help yourself to the drinks and more, God knows I can pay for it.”

Theres a scattering of laughter as he jokes with them, flashing them that billionaire grin. “I want to take the time to introduce my partner here,” he looks down at you, tugging you closer to him. “No better time than Christmas, I think. So on behalf of us Waynes here,” his hand tightens around you. “and all of my sons, we wish you a very Merry Christmas.”

Theres applause after he raises his glass in a toast, and the band starts again with full force. You flick your eyes up to Bruce, who is currently studying the chattering that has spread across the guests with a smirk.

“What did you do that for?” you hiss, tugging him closer to your face. He smirks back, that boyish glint in his eye returning.

“You wanted me to fix it, darling.” He chuckles. “I did.”

“You called me a Wayne.”

“That I did.” He grins. The band starts a slow rendition of ‘Last Christmas’ and he tugs you towards his chest, feet already moving in a lazy waltz. “It’ll keep them guessing for a while. They’ll try to figure out what we are, but they’ll behave in case you’re already my spouse.” He smiles down at you, watching you follow his waltz.

“Already?” you raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head softly, lowering his head towards yours. “What do you mean already your spouse?” you ask.

“It means,” he murmurs, spinning you till you were dancing under the light of Alfred magnificent Christmas tree. “That I may have just spoiled my New Year’s surprise.” He huffs.

You study him under the LED’s, how the light flickers off the edges of his face, highlighting the contours and shadows of his skin. You raise a hand to trace them softly and he turns his cheek into your palm. This was Bruce Wayne, the man who fought for the betterment of Gotham every night. Who looked nothing but weary standing in front of you now, about to mark the end of another year.

“Merry Christmas, Bruce.” You say softly, offering him a small smile.

“Merry Christmas.” He rumbles back, eyes lighting up again. He dips his head down to press a kiss to your lips, and you can feel the corners of his mouth tilt upwards when he does.

You loop your arms around his neck, foreheads touching. You could only wonder what tree Alfred would put in the manor next year, and if once you were officially a Wayne he’d let you help choose the colours.

[narcan-necromancer]

[robiinurheart33]

Ok ok Johnny but he can’t accept the fact that people love him?

First girlfriend. Went south real fast and realised he was gay.

First boyfriend. Was bi-curious. First heartbreak too.

Second boyfriend. Only wanted him for his body. Self explanatory.

Third boyfriend. Way too emotionally unavailable, felt like they weren’t even dating at a point. Turns out he already has a partner.

You get the gist.

At a very young age, Johnny was aware of his unfortunate personality. School fights, family scoldings, bedroom sobbing, it’s all just a blur to him now. It’s not like he had the worst life out there, no. But he can’t shake the fact that he can’t really remember anything about his childhood. The trauma stuck though, unfortunately.

He could never really seem to shake off that “unloveable” blanket on his shoulders.

It’s not that bad, in retrospect. His friends like him, sure. They tolerate him. He knows he’s loud, he knows he’s brash, he’s a lot to deal with! He understands. So every once in a while, he’ll just…back off. Leave everyone alone and just spend some time alone. The horrors do get to him when he’s alone in his room, clutching the fabric of his shirt and trying to get ahold of his breathing, but it’s basically nothing to what everyone else has to endure! He’s selfish, he knows it already, always needy, always wanting. This is the least he can do to make sure that his loved ones aren’t tipped over the boiling point and actually leave him for good.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself at times.

Then he meets ghost.

Powerful, strong, admirable Ghost. He blew his fucking lid. He’s even bigger than the rumours suggest. He’s professional, clean. He’s everything that Soap wishes to be.

He’s jealous right off the bat. How could he not be?

Honestly, he feels a bit bad for the guy at the start. Soap’s laying it on thick with the touching and the questions. He’s obviously fucking with him a bit, bit to be fair he’s not really doing much to stop him either. As time goes on, it becomes a weird sort of admiration/jealousy thing. He still is jealous of Ghost, but not to an extreme extent that he could be.

Ghost is another very peculiar case, one that Soap doesn’t seem to mind prodding. After a few missions together, he could see why he was so infamous. But still, Ghost wasn’t pushing back. Has anyone done this to him before? Why was he just letting this happen? Ghost might find him weird, sure, but he’s the most curious disturbing motherfucker soap’s ever met.

The army isn’t exactly a place to find someone to get their dick wet, homophobes around the corner at every turn. Soap’s just accepted it as part of life now, not really wanting to think much on it but having that fact lurk at the back of his mind. It’s a bit depressing, sure, to not have anyone get to know his actual self, but then again he was sure that anyone who truly got to know him wouldn’t talk to him ever again. If it’s not the gay thing, it’s the army thing. If its not the army thing, it the personality thing. Whatever. John’s gotten used to it.

However, though some unexplainable force (the SAS and Price), Soap and Ghost had become some sort of dynamic duo now. They’d fought together, lost together, gone through some of the most horrific weathers known to man, and they’d both survived under some miracle. Well, soap survived. He never doubted ghost would.

He got very close though. Way too close for Soap’s liking. They were in some fuck-ass country upside down the earth, down to his last mag and ghost clipped in the shoulder. They were hauling ass just- away. They didn’t know when exfil would get there, or where. Their main objective was just to survive. Ghost was making a very vulnerable wheezing sound from his throat and Soap’s gun was overheating, burning though his gloves.

“Soap- Sargent.” Ghost whispered, somehow always remaining calm in the most chaotic situation Soap’s been in so far. Either that, or he’s just really fuckin tired.

“No’ now, L.T, tryna get us to safety.”

“Soap, leave me behind.”

“What? Listen, I’ve got no time for your stupid heroism crap, okay? Just- shut up.”

“MacTavish, im serious. I have nothing waiting for me. I’ll be okay. Just go. Stay safe.”

“Whot the hell did i just say?” He snapped, turning towards him. “I’ve go’ no time for this. You’re coming wit me whether you like it or not.” Soap jabs a finger into his chest, leaning in close until he’s sure Ghost can see the faintest scar on his right eyebrow from screwing around with a razor with his friends, trying to give himself a eyebrow slit.

“You’ve got me, haven’t ya? You’ve got Price, and the people on your team are counting on you. I’m counting on you. So you can die somewhere else, in the bumfuck a’ nowhere, but you’re not allowed to die today, now. Ya hear me?”

Like this, gunpowder and dust making his nose itchy, looking intensely at Ghost to make sure his point is drive home, there’s a look in his eyes that soap thinks he’s never seen before. He- he kinda looks like-

How Soap looks at Ghost.

With admiration.

Oh.

So, yeah. They ran out of there on the air of their asses, Soap laughing as the final hits of adrenaline pulses his heart, Ghost leaning against him with the same look in his eye, and they’ve never exactly been the same after that.

Soap chalked it off as it being in the heat of the moment kinda thing, but he’s been consistently catching Ghost’s eye staring at him from a distance away, just staring, with that strange look in his eye. Not always with the same emotion, Soap guesses, but still. It’s close enough. He doesnt know what’s happening, or what he did, but something changed. And it’s driving him insane. It’s not that Ghost wasn’t already friendly in his own weird ghost way, but now he’s being friendly in a normal way.

It’s so weird.

He’ll be waiting at the gun range for Soap like he knows he’d appear there, toss him an apple when he feels peckish, slap his hand away when he needs to change bandages muttering something about him not doing it properly. It’s weird, and it’s nice, and it’s making soap feel all itchy and hot. he can’t even scratch himself anymore as a soothing tick, Ghost will just slap his hand away and grumble a “stop that.”

It’s weird, and soap can’t help but enjoy it.

He feels a bit selfish, feeling like he’s somehow taking advantage of ghost’s kindness, but for what? He’s feeling guilty but what exactly is he being selfish about? Maybe a mental checkup is in order, he’s losing his mind a bit. They’re friends, that’s all. It’s not…that unheard of that ghost would have friends, isn’t it? He should feel honoured to be his…fist? Again, Soap doesn’t know a lot about him.

Time passes. He dips his toes in guerrilla warfare for the first time, can’t say he’s a fan. Been backstabbed, shot, and survived. Hes earned his nickname, and sticks by it. (Hah) Though thick and thin, Ghost’s been there throughout it all. An angel guiding him to the churches, a leader who he would follow to the pits of hell, a friend when he needed one. After all that, the questions just never seemed to slow down. About his family, himself, his hobbies… to keep him awake, to pass the time, just whenever. Mostly Soap would get grumbles and short answers, proper sentences if he’s in the mood (which is all the time) or drunk enough. He’s flustered under all the attention and he knows it, itching beneath the helmet and the layers of armour. Soap is brash, and loud, and a little bit of a pyromaniac. He knows it. He’s fine with it. All jagged edges, no slowing down in sight. He doesnt know what to do with the change coming. He does the only thing he knows to do. He runs. After all of it is said and done, with makarov in the streets now, not much is to be done other than waiting for further instruction.

Applies leave for a few days, rented a airbnb online, have some alone time. Reset. Easy. Simple. Hes done this all his life. But when he was just about to slip out, Ghost suddenly appeared right in front of him.

“Gah- Jesus, fuck, ghost. What’s wrong?”

“You’re leaving.”

“Yeah, I am. You signed off on the papers.”

“Why?”

“Just…some time. To myself.”

“Is that it?”

“…yeah?” What else does he want me to say?

Ghost looks like he.. squirms a bit, which is weird. Ghost doesn’t squirm.

“Just… the countryside. And stuff.” This is the worst casual conversation he’s ever had with Ghost.

“Um… i got you something.” Then he’s holding something out.

“Huh? Really- this is a rock.” What the fuck.

“It’s a rock from Las Almas.”

“You… kept a rock. From Las Almas. What, you couldn’t have stopped by an actual gift shop just around the corner? I think i saw one right around where i found your knife lodged into-”

“-You done yet?” He snaps.

“Apparently not, sir. You wanna explain the rock?” Soap’s being a bitch.

“Just that… you’re going to be alone… and. Makarov.”

“It’s a legitimate place, ghost. you wont find anyone there.”

“Not just that, it’s like-” He groans slightly and scratches the back of his head. “You’re going to be alone, and the last time you were alone..”

Oh.

“It’s just a reminder that like, I wasn’t going to give it to you this soon but, i was there. With you. You weren’t truly alone, johnny. And.. you’re going to be alone now. Actually alone. And i just….its. I’m here. At Redhill. I’m going to be here. You know where to find me.”

You’ve got me, haven’t ya?

Oh shit.

Soap doesn’t know what to say. He can feel the tip of his ears burning, pricking down his cheeks and flush down his neck. He doesnt know how to stand properly, what to say, how to think. Because everything he;s thinking right now should not be applied to his lieutenant.

This doesn’t mean anything, right? It doesn’t change anything. It’s still the same. Soap knows that Ghost cares about him. He’s his Sargent. He’s his Sargent. But not in that way. They’re friends. The rock from Las Almas. He’s fine. They’re fine. It’s just like the rock is a physical manifestation and real evidence that Ghost may or may not like him. Jesus, he shouldn’t think like that. He’s too quiet. He should say something. His lips twitch.

“Thank you.” THAT’S IT?? SAY MORE.

“I’ll know where to look, then.” Soap gives the most half flustered, half assed smile he’s ever given to anyone. He cant even begin to imagine how he looks right now. His heart pulls. Ghost looks away. He feels like he’s going to be swept off his feet in a bad (good) way.

“Right then.” He clears his throat, disappearing down the corner of the hallway. Soap gapes as he stares after him. What was that? What was him? What? He looks down at the heavier-than-it should-look rock in his sweaty palms, and swallows.

This doesn’t change anything. They’re still working together. They’re the lieutenant and Sargent of the 141 Taskforce. He’s fine. They’re fine.

Everything is okay.

[coolasakuhncumber]

tfw it's two pregnancy and an engagement announcement in 24 hours and you're overjoyed for your friends but it also feels like a very small knife is being stuck into your abdomen and twisted.

[inkykeiji]

you can always take more than nothing

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: here’s my halloween piece, only half a month late! still, i hope you can enjoy it! as always, please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: alice in wonderland

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, public sex/exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, size difference, biting/marking, blood, minimal prep, rough sex, teasing, begging, dacryphilia, humiliation, a lil bit of degradation, drugs, toxic relationship

words: 8.6k

synopsis:

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try. He’s the motherfucking Boss. And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always. 

The music is loud, so loud the walls seem to be breathing with it, bleeding with it, flashes of neon pouring over the frosted mosaics of glass and marble. 

A party, thinly veiled as a corporate event. 

There are people everywhere, scattered across every surface, crystal glasses filled with expensive liqour and cocktail concoctions glittering in their palms. You barely know any of them. 

They’re all supposed business partners, allies and associates, ‘friends’ of your Daddy. Not that it matters all that much to you; they aren’t allowed to say a word to you anyway. 

Your eyes scan the expanse of the club, on the hunt for a familiar face. Takeomi is in the corner, obnoxiously blowing smoke into some of the higher end girls’ faces. He’s really taking his role of The Caterpillar earnestly. 

Good. You told him it suited him.

At your request (AKA at Mikey’s demand), the top members of Bonten have dressed up as Alice in Wonderland characters, donning an impressive group costume. You’ve been taking the whole thing pretty seriously—beginning your extensive planning in August, drafting up designs and taking everyone’s precise measurements to have each outfit custom made to their exact frames—which means the rest of Bonten has been taking the whole thing pretty seriously, too. 

Not that any of them mind. 

What Mikey’s little angel wants, Mikey’s little angel gets. It’s standard protocol, really; you’re merely an extension of the Boss and thus must be treated as an extension of the Boss, and Mikey’s best men have no issues complying. 

Sighing, you rest your chin in your palms, sombreness souring your features. An ache, dull and dense, settles in the pit of your chest. It’s a desolate sort of longing, a gentle but constant gnawing that cannot be sated by anyone or anything other than it’s creator, something that weights your lungs and heavies your heart and stalls your breath, a vital part missing.

You miss Mikey.

You miss Mikey, but you know this ‘event’ really does have some sort of business significance; that, while it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk and high on Halloween night, it also serves as the grounds for some sort of meeting or negotiation or proposition—you can never be sure which, with Bonten. 

You aren’t allowed to know. You’re lucky to be here at all.

But you miss Mikey.

You shouldn’t be selfish. You know you shouldn’t be selfish; he’s already stretched so thin between so many obligations and obituaries, and you shouldn’t add to that strain. You won’t add to that strain. You’ll sit here, pretty and perfect like his precious little princess should be, and you’ll wait, patiently, until Daddy has a moment to spare you. 

He always finds a moment to spare, no matter how many duties and commitments he has. He always finds a space for you in his day, even if he has to carve it out with his bare hands.

So you mustn’t be greedy. You will be good. For him, you’ll do anything, no matter how difficult. 

“No frowning, miss Alice,” Sanzu chastises through a stretched grin, wide and carved into his cheeks—a smile so sharp, so sinister it puts the true Cheshire Cat to disgrace. 

He swims into your vision, teeth glinting with teals and fuchsias, an intricately wrapped box in his palms. Tugging on the ribbon a little, he unboxes it to reveal a wealth of small confections, individually wrapped in colourful foils.  

“Look, your favourite kitty brought you some chocolate.”

That brightens your mood a little—a sugar fiend, just like your Daddy is—and your mouth drops open expectantly, cute tongue unfurling in invitation. 

Sanzu rolls his eyes but places a truffle on your tongue anyway, pressing it down on the slick muscle and forcing your lips to close around his first knuckle to suck the treat free from him, laughing at the way your face twists.

Pervert. 

His nails taste like blood—not that you’ve come to expect any less—but the rusty copper is quickly eradicated by sugar, a content little hum vibrating around the melting chocolate.

“Good, huh?” Sanzu asks around his own chocolate, shuffling a gold box of expensive Italian truffles in his palm as he picks through them, confections jumping perilously with the motion, shimmering wrappers catching in the flashing neon strobes. “They’re imported.”

“Where’d you get those?” you ask through strings of caramel and cocoa, welding to your molars. 

“A little Halloween treat courtesy of Mikey,” he says dutifully, jostling the box in emphasis. “And an apology, for taking longer than expected.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest, swelling with your heart and stretching your ribs. The last few remnants of displeasure fade from your face, giving way to a small smile.

How very Mikey of him, to send his second in command armed with artisan chocolates and a short, sweet explanation; something he knew would make you smile, something he knew would alleviate some of your impatience, a reassurance that he misses you too, that he’ll be back soon, that he’s thinking of you. 

“There’s our pretty girl,” Sanzu teases, but his own grin has softened a little, the glint in his eyes dulled to a twinkle. “No more pouting, ‘kay? Your trusty Cheshire Cat will be by your side until your Hatter returns.”

Ah. A polite way of saying that you’re stuck with him until Mikey’s finished his work, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

That takes longer than either of you expect, though, Sanzu’s plan of entertaining you by leading you, hand-in-hand, around the club to assess each Bonten member’s costume not nearly as lengthy as he had anticipated. 

Because it only takes a mere twenty minutes or so to examine all of them, with you near instantaneously deciding that the Haitanis have won the make-believe costume contest you and Sanzu had been holding between yourselves. 

Sanzu had agreed—everyone looks impeccable in their custom-made costumes, tailored specifically to them at your behest, but no one had any hope of eclipsing the Haitanis in their form-fitted pinstriped suits, each stitch and thread molded flawlessly to their frames, perfectly pressed collars embroidered with Dee and Dum in shimmery purple thread, powder blue bowties immaculately symmetrical around their tattooed necks. 

Now you’re back at the bar, Sanzu’s shaky fingers sifting through the box of truffles as he searches for something, anything, to distract him from the way the blood in his veins is beginning to dry up, the way his capillaries are withering, brittle and thirsty, the way his skin is beginning to itch.

Because he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Not yet, anyway.

No narcotics when he’s chaperoning you; that’s a hard rule. That’s a rule that’s been sewn into the tissues of his brain so tightly it’s interwoven with his synapses. That’s an execution rule; a one time only rule—breaking that rule will get him fucking killed. 

But you’re both starting to become a little bit restless. 

“Come on,” you’re begging, word dragged across your tongue in a petulant whine. “Just one more chocolate?”

“I said no,” Sanzu snaps, eyes hard. “Mikey said three. Mikey’s the Boss. Whatever Mikey says goes; Mikey’s girl, Mikey’s rules!” 

“You’re no fun,” you huff, forehead scrunching with a pout. 

“Yeah, and that’s why he sticks me with you,” Sanzu says, though he sounds almost proud, as if it’s an honour to babysit you, a title of high esteem. “Because I can resist your tricks.”

“My charms,” you correct.

“Whatever,” he waves a hand. “It’s all semantics. Point is, I know how to say no to you, unlike a few certain someones.” 

Unimpressed ice blue eyes sweep across the venue, hovering pointedly on the faces of his colleagues—Kakucho, the Dormouse; Kokonoi, the White Rabbit; Rindou, Tweedle-Dum.

Your eyes follow his, and you smirk to yourself. Kakucho is the easiest out of those three; Kokonoi sometimes deceives you, allowing you to do as you please only to tattle to Mikey later, and Rindou always demands some sort of payment, claiming it’s only fair that you give him something he wants in return. 

Turning back, you’re about to respond, something bratty and bitter simmering on your tongue, when a pair of hands and a smooth voice cuts you off. 

You’d know that touch, that tone, anywhere.

“Pray, tell me, Miss Alice,” Mikey murmurs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, palms curling around your hips and pulling you back toward his chest. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Because it can produce a few notes,” you answer dutifully, head tipping back against his shoulder to glance at him through the corner of your eye. “Though they are very flat.”

“Correct,” he responds. “My, what a smart little girl you are.”

It’s soaked in condescension, compliment drawled out through a supercilious smirk, breath wafting across your face sweltering and saccharine. 

“Do I get a reward, Mister Hatter?” you ask, sweeter than sugarcane, batting eyelashes framing hopeful, dewy eyes. 

A hum vibrates on his tongue, onyx gaze apathetic and appraising as it glides across your features slowly, thoroughly, pulling each of your thoughts apart and putting them back together again. 

Your head rolls to the side, over his protruding collarbone, to stare at him more resolutely. And God, it’s the way you’re looking up at him, eyes glazed with dedication, with devoutness, like you want to fucking devour him. 

Like you want him to devour you. 

Hips pushing back, you rub your ass into his cock in inconspicuous little motions, lashes fluttering a little, back arched in a perfect curve and tits on full display. 

From this angle, there’s no way he can’t see right down your dress; there’s no way he can’t see the red lace of your bra straining against supple skin as your chest rises and falls with gentle breaths, no way he doesn’t notice the very tips of your nipples, cheekily peeking out from beneath the delicate material with each swell of your breasts. 

Bony fingers flex on your waist, and he huffs out a smirk.

His ebony pupils are enormous, blown wide and gaping, gnawing away at the whites of his eyes. 

He’s high. 

It’s evident in the milky film of artificial ecstasy lacquering his gaze, doped up and hazy, but it does nothing to dilute the potent love he has for you, melting his stare to something soft and sticky, pouring past his lashes.

He’s feeling good tonight.

“I think I know what my little girl wants,” one hand flattens against your stomach, holding you flush to his body as the other slides up your ribs to cup your breast, filling his palm with it and kneading, slow and deliberate, simply enjoying the feeling of you. “And it is very naughty of her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm,” he hums, head drooping to nose along the curve of your neck. “Really.”

His lips brush along your skin as he speaks, his voice barely more than a gentle vibration along the column of your throat, and you whimper a little, fingers curling around his wrist and pressing him closer.

“A-And what’s that?”

“Aw, can’t you guess?” he tuts his tongue. “And I thought you were smart. Must’ve been mistaken. Where’s my smart little girl gone now?”

Grip firm on your waist, his hips rut forward, hard cock prodding at you through the layers of tulle. A discontented little sound vibrates in your throat as you squirm a little—and oh, he knows what you’re whining about, greedy girl, knows that you can barely feel his cock through the thick petticoat, knows you want more—and he presses his hips further forward, grinding harder into your ass.

“Daddy—Da-Daddy, it’s—” 

“What?” he shoves again, stronger this time, teeth nipping at the skin below your ear. “Hm?”

“Your cock is hard,” you nearly whine, pushing back against him in a pitiful little wiggle, desperate for more friction. 

“And who’s fault is that, huh?” 

The hand massaging your breast gives a final squeeze before his fingers find your nipple, pinching it through the material of your dress and bra, then rubbing the heel of his thumb over it in hard, rhythmic motions. 

“Is your pussy wet?” he huffs the question into your ear, his hot breath procuring shivers. “I bet it is, naughty girl. Daddy wants to feel it.”

“Please, please,” your hips buck a little, punctuating your pleads, chest pressing into his touch.

“Please? Please what?”

“Touch me, Daddy, touch me, touch me.”

Slender hands slip beneath the puffy layers of lace, calloused fingertips rough as they skim up your smooth thighs, outlining the silk ruffles of the bloomers he bought you specifically for this costume. 

Your hips twitch slightly, legs spreading instinctively as his fingers trail along the scrunched hem to the apex of your thighs, pressing two into the rapidly dampening material. Pensively, they caress your slit through the material, prodding your hole just a little before rubbing two slow, hard circles into your clit.

“Christ,” he breathes out, curse splintering at the end. “You’re so fucking wet baby, and I’ve barely done anything yet.”

His palm flattens against you, all four fingers dipping into your core nearly to the first knuckle and then curling, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit, and your pelvis cants reflexively, almost as if you’re attempting to draw his fingertips further in. 

“How are you this wet already, huh?” he keens, voice straining beneath his own desire. “Been thinking naughty thoughts?”

“Jus’want your cock,” you slur out honestly, hips gyrating in pathetic little circles, an embarrassing attempt to follow his touch. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s all it takes, eh?” he rolls your clit between his thumb and his forefinger, nonchalantly toying with it as he mulls. “Just my cock?” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod blearily. “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“Cute,” Mikey spits, the compliment sheathed in venom, “how utterly stupid just the thought of my cock makes you.” 

His fingers clamp down on the swollen nub and tug, your whole body jolting with the pain, a yelp hitching in your chest. 

The arm wrapped around your waist tightens in response, holding you close, holding you still as he humps away at you, sloppy and uneven.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, fingers tweaking your clit in rhythmic motions, sparks of pleasure chased by shocks of pain. “You’re so fucking easy for your Daddy, aren’t you? So quick to get soaked for him, so quick to get ready for him, such a good little slut for him, yeah?” 

His voice is gravelly, letters wispy around the edges despite fact that he’s nearly shouting over music. Another rush of heat surges between your thighs, and he laughs, dark and dangerous. 

Your clit throbs in his touch, the silk of your panties drenched all the way through, aiding his fingers in their slippery motions—several small, fast S gestures, followed by a few firm strokes of your slit, fingertips gliding over your folds with ease. You’re so soaked, whole cunt now outlined by the shimmery material, molding to your folds and enabling him to feel every dip, every bump, every crevice, another chuckle dripping from his lips as your little hole clenches around nothing.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs squeezing together tightly as you attempt to fuck his fingers. “Daddy, I—I can’t—I need—” 

“Shh,” he hushes you, lips caressing the curve of your ear. “I know, baby. Daddy knows what you need.” 

A palm wraps around your wrist as Mikey mutters something about going somewhere a little more private, pulling you along behind him and leading you toward those purple velvet VIP couches, empty and roped off in a darkened corner. 

“What are we—” you begin as Mikey collapses heavily on the couch, knees spread wide open, hips shifting up slightly as he forces his feet even further apart, getting comfortable. 

C’mere, his lips mime, voice drowning in heavy bass, his chin jutting in the general direction of his straining cock, yearning against pin-striped pants. 

Strong hands curl around your hips and yank you backward, the abrupt motion punching a sound of surprise from your chest as you tumble into his lap, spine pressed tight to his sternum. 

The hinges of his jaw hook over your shoulder, a crude way of keeping you from squirming as he manhandles you into straddling his thighs, hard cock pressing into your core. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants out, the curse damp against your skin. “You’re so wet I can feel you leaking through my pants.”

“Daddy,” you say, and although it’s meant to be a warning, it comes out as a whine, stringy and petulant.  

Because it already feels so good, and he’s already so hard, and you just can’t help but rock your hips back, slow and firm, whimpering a bit as the head of his cock glides over your clit, teasing as the slick, swollen little nub jumps beneath the dull pressure. 

He laughs a little, nothing more than a deep, dark rumbling within his ribs, reverberating against your back.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” he chides lowly, though you can hear the self-satisfied smirk sewn into his voice, tinged with sadism, as he rolls his hips up twice, grinding his cock into your drenched core. “You’re so fucking needy, baby, trying to get yourself off in the middle of this crowded club.”

You are, you are, another little sound escaping your lips as you rut back against him, already beginning to speed up, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit in quick little strokes.

“It’s really precious, y’know, how pathetically eager you are for me,” he murmurs, notes of fondness negating the sting the insult should bring, words gone melty and sweet. “But you gotta stop humping Daddy for a moment, so he can get his cock out and give you what you really want.” 

A disgruntled little whine sounds in your throat, motions stuttering a little as you attempt to stop moving. But it all feels so incredible, greedily unable to quell your hips completely as they rotate in messy little circles, tummy starting to ripple with each graze of his blunt head against your clit.

“Hey,” he warns, sharp and stern, a palm colliding with your bare thigh and leaving a burning handprint seared in its wake, the impact of the slap loud enough to draw a few pairs of eyes. “Don’t get bratty with me, or you won’t get anything at all, you understand?”

Your head’s nodding before the words are even finished leaving his lips—yes, Daddy, of course, Daddy, brats don’t deserve to be filled by Daddy’s cock—desperate to be good for him, to be the best for him.

Because you know he isn’t fucking around; Mikey’s threats are never empty threats, each and every word plucked from his brain with superlative care, heavy and infused with meaning.

It’s terrifying and tantilizing, how easily and instantly he can switch from one mode to the other: from playful to imposing, from Daddy to Leader, a pleasant shiver skittering up your spine, your hole clenching and pulsing as your stomach plummets, gut weighted with a tingling pressure.

It’s a bit of a task, freeing his cock and manoeuvring yourself as you try to inconspicuously sink down on it, but you both manage, your fluffy petticoat of crinoline and tulle providing a decent amount of privacy. 

A hiss slips through the gaps of your gritted teeth as it begins to tear you in two, cute little hole stinging as it strains around his cock, struggling to accommodate his girth, delicate skin splitting itself open for him. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” he breathes lowly, voice vibrating against your ear. “There you go, good girl.” 

An airy little moan spills from your lips as he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix, and you melt back into him, skull knocking against his shoulder, eyes slipped shut. 

“Feel better, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble out dreamily. “S’good, S’right.”

“It feels right, huh?” he chuckles a little, thumbs rubbing fond circles into your hips, his hands all the way up your skirt, slipped beneath the frills and fluff, forearms buried in your dress. “You like it when Daddy fills you up?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “Stretches me out real good, makes me feel all stuffed ‘n full.” 

Whole, complete, one. Like everything feels as it’s supposed to again.

And it hurts, because it always hurts, because he’s too thick and you’re never prepped enough, never patient enough, core split open on his cock and little hole aching as it attempts to adjust to him, but it’s so fucking perfect, too. Your cunt spasms around him, hips twitching a little in desperation—like you’re trying to suck him in further, like you’re trying to bury him deeper—and he groans, fingers flexing as he holds you still, nails gorging on your flesh.

“Eager, are we?” 

“S’not my fault,” you mewl, back arching a little as you attempt to push your hips back, squirming a bit in his strong grip. “Need you, Daddy.”

“Is that so?”

Grasp tightening, his hips thrust up, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix in slow, hard motions—back and forth, back and forth, inspiring a dull pang throbbing in your gut. 

Gasping sharply, your hips jerk back in response, automatic and instinctual, pulling a hoarse groan from his chest. 

His clutch turns to near bone crushing, a fractured little cry sticking in your throat, and he forces you to hold still for a moment, muscles in his thighs gone rigid and stiff as his hips press up further and tug you down, frozen, revelling in the way your cunt pulses around him, as if it’s whining for him.

“M-Mikey,” you echo its sentiments, his name a sulky plead on your tongue, brows knit together and lips jutted in a pout. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“You know,” you huff out, wriggling a little in his palms, feebly trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Tell me anyway,” he demands.  

Scalding embarrassment pricks your cheeks and you whimper, fidgeting in his grasp again, head shaking in defiance.

“Come on,” he chides, but there are notes of amusement infusing his tone. “Daddy can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask for it.” 

Sharp teeth sink into your shoulder suddenly, your half-formed response strangled by a gasp, Mikey’s jaw tensing as he burrows his teeth further into your flesh, piercing through tissues and snapping capillaries until copper explodes in his mouth. 

He holds it for a moment, all thirty-two of his teeth latched in your skin, ensuring he leaves a full, detailed outline of his mouth etched into you—a signature of sorts—before his tongue flattens against the wound, dragging over it in a single wide lick and sealing it with blood-tinged saliva. A gentle exhale wafts over the bite, cool against the searing pain, and you shudder, chills erupting across your flesh.

“You’re a big girl,” he coaxes over your whimpering, the encouragement steeped in condescension. “I know you can do it. Use your big girl words and tell Daddy what you want.”

Your eyes squeeze shut against the burn of humiliation, lids crinkling at the corners, the softest hiccup catching in your throat, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. 

“I—I wanna ride your cock, Daddy,” you push the stubborn words from your tongue, trembling and breathy.

“Yeah?” he asks, bloodied tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. “How bad?”

“So bad,” you bleat out, striving to bounce on his cock under the firm restraint of his hands, dewdrops of annoyance clinging to your lashes, glittering in the beams of magenta and teal as you blink rapidly.

“Hm,” he muses to himself, nonchalant as he readjusts his grip, hands constringing, completely halting your pathetic little movements. “It doesn’t seem like you want it all that badly.”

“Daddy,” the word leaves your lips in a whine, scrunched and petulant through your pout, body thrashing beneath his strong grip. “Come on—” 

“Are you sure you wanna be such a naughty little whore in front of all of these people?”

Your body stops its writhing, his words like a slap to the face.

It’s a bit of a shock, to hear it spoken aloud so bluntly, cut and dry and honest, and it sends a torrent of sparks fizzing through your chest to collect dense and tight in your tummy. 

Shame and revulsion sets your skin aflame, the cinders in your gut flaring in response, an intoxicating combination. 

“Yes—”

“Huh? What was that?” he shouts theatrically in your ear. “I couldn’t really hear you over the music.”

“Y-Yes,” you repeat, trying to steady your hiccuping voice, to be stern and resolute, even as tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

“Really?” he breathes, and he sounds astonished, he sounds appalled. “You’re so fucking sleazy, baby. I wonder what all these people would think, if they knew how truly filthy my little girl is...”

“Manjirou,” you weep out his birth name, whole face saturated in frustration.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he chuckles out the word, and it’s vicious. “Graduated to using my full name, now, have you?” he licks at the steadily oozing bite, mopping up more blood with his tongue. “Christ, you do really want it.” 

“I do!” you cry out, struggling against his grasp again, hips bucking in wild, erratic motions. “I do, I do, please, let me ride your cock, please.” 

“What if I made you sit, still and straight like the good little girl I know you want to be, on my hard cock for the rest of the night? Do you think you’d be able to handle it?”

You know he won’t, know he’d never be able to, because he’s just as addicted to you as you are to him, just as desperate, just as eager, just as needy; because even as he holds you motionless, he can’t quite halt the delicate jerk of his hips, rolling up into your core; because you know he wants this just as badly as you do, gets off on the depravity just as much as you do.

Even so, the mere thought of being teased like this, of being forced to hold such a degrading position, is still enough to inspire a rush of agitated tears to flood your eyes, vision gone bleary with despairing desire and rendering the club a bleary haze of glowing neons. 

“No, Daddy, no, I—I just want to ride you, please, Daddy, I c-can’t—” 

You’re nearly wailing now, head thrown back dramatically as your neck twists into an uncomfortable knot, anguished as you try to bury your face in his throat, looking for solace. Your chest stutters as you stammer out half-finished pleads, gone garbled with spit, and Mikey smiles.

You’re starting to cause a scene. 

It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Okay, baby, okay, okay,” he’s pacifying as he feels hot tears soak into his neck, a choked sob catching painfully in your chest. “Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it all better.”  

And finally, finally his grasp loosens, stiff fingers gone lax, massaging lopsided circles into the rapidly developing bruises left in the shape of their prints. 

“Go ahead, angel,” he urges, nuzzling into the junction of your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to the congealing bite. “Ride Daddy’s cock.” 

Then he’s slumping back, settling into the couch cushions and spreading his thighs a little wider, pressing the soles of his boots into the waxed floor for stability and leverage. 

His hands stay on your waist, a gentle guidance, but he allows you to set the pace—a rare occurrence—patient as your hips work up a steady rhythm of quick, shallow gyrations, each swivel dragging his cock against your favourite spot.

And God, you’re so cute when you use his cock to make yourself feel good. It’s a shame that he can’t see your face in this position, can’t see the way your lashes flutter and frame the rolling whites of your eyes or the way your features scrunch so delicately; a shame he can’t hear your gorgeous noises, all your sweet little gasps and pitiful little whines consumed by the blaring music. 

But he can see how your back is bowing, spine forced into a near perfect arc by your building pleasure, bending just a hint more with each brush of his cock; he can feel your palms clutching his knees, nails digging little crescents into his shins and using them for support as your movements accelerate, as you fuck yourself harder, faster, better.

And he lets you have your fun for a little, lays back all languid and lazy and watches through lidded eyes as you play with yourself and use his cock like it’s your favourite toy—because, well, it is—but eventually it just isn’t enough and you need Daddy’s help. 

Just like he knew it wouldn’t be. Just like you always do.

Not that he minds one bit.

Yes, it isn’t enough, because it never is, because you can never manage anything more than teasing yourself when left entirely to your own devices, spritzing kerosene on the dull smouldering in the pit of your stomach as the head of his cock brushes up against that engorged spot inside of you, not nearly hard enough or fast enough to have you anywhere close to creaming on him, merely enough to have your clit throbbing, swollen and neglected. 

He knows you’re beginning to get restless when your hips turn sloppy, tempo starting to falter as your motions stutter, and then you’re looking over your shoulder at him with a beseeching pout, glazed eyes begging him to do something!

So he does. 

He’s straightening up in a split second, hands around your waist tightening as he yanks you back toward his chest, chin hooking over your clavicle again and grinding the sharp bone into your skin.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, mocking and mean. “Can’t even get herself off without her Daddy’s help.” 

“I can’t, I can’t,” you wail over the roar of EDM, head shaking in accentuation. “Need you, need you to do it for me.”

“Of course you do, angel,” he says, as if it’s obvious, as if it’s common knowledge. “But that’s okay—Daddy will make it feel good.” 

That’s the only warning you’re given before his hips are ramming up, rapid and rough and downright ruthless, the abrupt motion slamming a high-pitched yelp from your throat, so pure and genuine and full of lust that it rises above the music, breaks through the heavy bass beat, gathering a handful of glances from a few nearby party-goers. 

So much for being inconspicuous. 

You should’ve known that that just isn’t Mikey’s style. 

They lose interest just as quickly as they gained it, though, going back to their drinks and their drugs, unconcerned. What the Boss does at his own club is none of their business, even if it is on display for the whole venue to see. 

Still, it’s enough for Mikey.   

“Everyone can see you, you know,” voracious black eyes scan the balcony space. “Everyone can see you being such a good little whore for your Daddy.” 

The thought of being watched, of being caught, inspires a whole flock of butterflies to flit around in your tummy, another surge of heat gushing between your thighs, and Mikey laughs. Oh, he felt that. 

Because he’s right; if anyone dared to look a little closer, a little longer, cared to paid a smidge of more attention to the two of you, hidden on one of the velvet couches wedged in the corner of the VIP section with your hips rocking and Mikey’s hands buried in the lace and tulle of your skirt, they’d know exactly what the two of you are doing.

But it doesn’t matter; you don’t care. Neither does he. Why should either of you?

“Do you—Do you think they like it?” you question, and Christ, it’s so precious, that pathetic hope ringing high and clear in your voice. “Do you think they like watching me bounce on their Boss’s cock?”

“Fuck,” the curse fragments in his throat, sharp and pitchy, and he coughs on the shards. “I know they do, sweetheart.”

“Do you think they’re g-gonna go home and touch themselves to the thought of me—of us?”

“Aw,” Mikey coos out in a chuckle, breathless and condescending. “It’s cute that you think they aren’t already jerking off to you on a regular basis.”

Of course they are, you silly little stupid thing; how could they not be? With all the sweet, short little dresses he buys you to prance and twirl around in—the ones with the sweetheart necklines that dip just a hint too low, teasing the swell of your breasts with each of your gentle inhales; the ones with the rippling hems that end just a touch too high, swishing and swaying and flashing with each of your movements, riding up and fanning out to gift them with teasing little glimpses of the lace and satin underneath. 

“You think I don’t know what my—ah, Christ—what my men think of you? How my men think of you?” He tongues a little at the bite, using his front teeth to scrape off a few half-formed scabs, blood rushing to pool in their place. “You think I don’t see the way they look at you?” 

A whine stammers in your throat, your back arching a little more as your cunt quivers around his cock, that drove of butterflies sending your stomach swooping, the organ tensing, tying itself into thick knots pulled tight and taut with each plunge of his cock. 

Mikey laughs again, the sound nothing more than a deep, dense vibration rumbling within his ribs, seeping into your back and sending tingles up your spine. 

“Would you like to see the way they look at you?” 

“H-Huh?” 

Oh, how adorably fucked out you already are, mind gone dumb and numb to everything but him, but his voice and his touch and his steadily driving cock; oh, how adorably easy it is to make you this fucking idiotic. 

“Look over there,” he presses his cheek into yours, forcing your head to turn and follow his gaze. 

Across the club, Rindou sits with an elbow resting on the edge of the bar, a glass dangling from his fingertips. His eyes are cavernous, carnivorous, a smirk smearing across his face as your stare meets his, heavy lids framing a leering look. 

Using a shoulder, he nudges his brother’s stomach, jutting his chin toward you and his Boss in indication when Ran looks down in question, redirecting his attention. 

Now they’re both watching you, with doped up violet eyes and identical sleazy smiles, toothless and worming.

It makes you want to scrub and scratch at your skin, their gazes painting you in a thick coat of grime, body soiled by their lust and left feeling dirty, feeling gross, a strong shiver crawling across your flesh.

Your head jerks reflexively, desperate to hide from their lechery, skull knocking against Mikey’s hard enough to send thorns of pain searing through your temple. 

A yelp cracks in your throat, and Mikey snorts, seemingly unfazed. 

“Aw,” Mikey tuts in false admonishment. “Don’t get shy now. Look at them. Look at them while you ride my cock.”

“M-Mikey—” your eyes shut tightly, a pitiful attempt to escape their invasive eyes, head shaking in little judders.

“C’mon,” he goads, forcing you to face their stare. “You want them all to see, right? How good my little girl is? How pretty my little girl is?”

Peeking through your lashes, you squint at the Haitanis, features teetering on the verge of a wince, as if you’re expecting them to physically strike you. 

They’re still looking at you, wide and unblinking, speaking out of the side of their mouths in laughs and murmurs to one another. 

Dressed in matching pin-striped suits and thick suspenders, Rindou has discarded his jacket, shirtsleeves rolled haphazardly up his forearms to his elbows, first few buttons of his shirt popped undone, revealing a defined collarbone. 

Predictably, Ran is still the perfect picture of poise and elegance, not a single hair out of place, suit jacket square on his shoulders and flawlessly tailored to his body, each stitch outlining his edges.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee respectively, and just as treacherous.

Whatever it is they’re saying to each other, they’re clearly enjoying themselves, amusement playing in glassy irises as Ran rests a hand around Rindou’s neck, slim fingers pressing into plush muscle. His younger brother instantly relaxes into his touch, mollifying back against his stomach and hooking an arm around his thigh, hugging it to his ribs. 

And it’s the way they’re looking at you, as if they’re peeling the clothes from your body and the skin from your bones and peering into the depths of your soul to dance with your demons and devour your secrets; as if they’re singeing your expression into their minds, the sight of your features saturated in perturbation and pleasure branded into the tissues of their brains, carved into the walls of their skulls, ensuring they’ll never forget.

Everything feels overexposed as they pry you apart bit by bit, heady mix of hedonism and humiliation hazing over your brain.

Mikey’s hips slow to a drag, thighs tensing and soles of his boots skidding across marble as he expertly angles his hips and presses up, rubbing the head of his cock over your g-spot in slow, controlled motions—back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again. 

And the moan that claws at your throat is almost obnoxious, is definitely embarrassing, which means Mikey needs to fuck at least three more from your chest, grunting a little with the effort as his cockhead jabs against that plush spot, hard and precise.

A whine that sounds suspiciously like his title, tangled in spit and weighted with shame, spills from your lips, and you nestle your face against his own even as your hips jolt, desperate for comfort, desperate for cover.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he nuzzles your damp cheek. “I know you do. I can feel it.”

It’s true, he can—you’re sure he can, with the way your straining little hole keeps pulsing around his length, another stream of heat cascading down his shaft, viscous and wet and so, so much, to pool in the folds of his balls, to stain the waistband of his pants and the velvet of the couch.

But you know he likes it just as much as you do. 

Because you’re both so fucking naughty, so fucking nasty, but the depravity just works to heighten it all, makes it that much better, amplifying every touch and brush and tease and fondle and making it all feel so fucking good, even as Mikey’s pace eases into something unhurried, his thrusts turned languid but powerful.

So you join in, you rise to his challenge, a sick little game the two of you play, a sick little game you force others to participate in—because you’re fucking untouchable.

“Do you think their cocks are hard, Daddy?” you ask, the question dripping with syrup as you roll your hips backwards, slow and purposeful, returning the Haitanis’ smouldering stare through fanned lashes, unblinking and tenacious. 

“Ah, f-fuck,” Mikey’s cock jolts, rhythm stammering for a moment before he regains his composure. “Yeah, baby, I bet they’re wishing they were me right now.”

You bet they are, too, mouths stopped moving and gazes gleaming with want, lips parted with uneven exhales pushed from their heaving chests, entirely enchanted by your movements.

It’s the most affected and authentic you’ve ever seen them before, and it sends a thrill of power shooting through your body, blood left fizzing in its wake. 

One of them reaches into their pocket, groping around blindly for their phone, not daring to spare a second of their attention away from you, and Mikey snarls, nose scrunched in disgust and lip curled in a sneer, baring gritted teeth.

Because that’s too much, that’s crossing a line, and Mikey swiftly redirects your face, effectively hiding your expression from the Haitanis’ hungry eyes. 

Mikey’s always liked to show off. Mikey’s never liked to share.

He swaps shoulders quickly, the defined hinges of his jaw clasped firmly over your collarbone, and smushes his face flush to yours again, skin clammy with sweat. 

“And look over there,” he steers your gaze toward the other side of the club, where Kokonoi sits with a smattering of men surrounding a tall cocktail table, littered with crystal glasses and white lines. 

The men around the table are laughing about something, sloshing liquor and cutting powder into thick, fat stripes, but Kokonoi isn’t paying attention to any of it. 

No. Kokonoi is looking at you. 

His eyes snap away when they meet your own, head whipping forward with such speed and such force it’s a marvel he doesn’t instantly give himself whiplash. A deep laugh rumbles in Mikey’s throat in response, something dark, something decadent. 

“He’s gonna go home and touch himself to you, too,” he says. “He might not even make it before he goes home; might end up jerking his cock in a bathroom stall or the front seat of his car.” 

“How can you tell?” 

“Well, look at him,” Mikey snorts. “He’s so hard he’s about to burst outta his pants.”

Following the line of Kokonoi’s body, your gaze travels downward, to the straining lump in his white pants. His hips shift a little uncomfortably as his thighs tense, hands curled into fists on his knees as he steadily trains his stare forward at the wall opposite of him, throat bobbing with a thick swallow.

Mikey’s right—Koko’s about to burst.

The thought of Koko rushing to his car to collapse in the driver’s seat, head tipped back against the headrest and hand shoved down his pants as his palm rubs frantically at his hard cock, or hastening to the washroom to lock himself in a stall, forehead pressed tightly to the rickety door and panting out stuttered, half-stifled whimpers hotly against his upper lip as he hurriedly relieves the problem you’ve created, is almost too much to bear, stomach clenching in time with the throbbing of your cunt, a torrid pressure building and burning in your gut. 

The sudden acceleration of Mikey’s thrusts snaps you out of that tangle of thoughts, effectively drawing every ounce of your attention back to him.

A mewl pries past your lips, sharp and high and cracking at the end, whole spine arching as Mikey resumes his assault on your favourite spot, cockhead driving hard and fast against plush flesh. 

“They can look all they want, but you’re mine.” His fingers tighten, his grasp rigid and unbreakable, the words nothing more than a snarl spit in your ear, wet and harsh. “I won’t fuckin’ share.” 

“Never, never, never,” you babble in time with the bouncing on his lap, head nodding in sloppy motions with each repetition of the word. 

“Never,” he growls, teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sloppily, excess spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he breaks the skin for the second time tonight and sucks hard, drawing blood from the string of tiny wounds.

It has another cry escaping your throat, whole face crinkling in a sordid mixture of pleasure and pain, head instinctually thrown back against your Daddy, automatically giving him more room to work. Drops of watered down blood drool down your back and Mikey takes a moment to admire them, mesmerised by the way they shimmer in the strobing lights of the club, before he licks at them with the tip of his tongue, leaving crude strokes of fresh spit in their wake.

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try.

He’s the motherfucking Boss.

And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always. 

He’s really fucking you now, vicious and vigorous, your entire body juddering in his lap as his hips piston up, cockhead pounding against that sensitive mound of tissue buried deep within you. 

Each thrust shoves another shattered sound from your tongue, splintered moans of his name and his title pouring past your lips in a jagged stream. 

The knot your stomach has twisted itself into strains under the building pressure, growing heavier and heavier with each jackhammer into you, stretched taut and stiff and ready to snap. 

It’s all so much, the ogling eyes and the ramming of his cock and the tightening in your belly, every muscle in your body coiled and aching for the ecstasy that comes with release. Your breath mangles with the mewls shoved from your lips with every slam up, sticking to your throat and you cough, wheezing past the splinters.  It’s all too much, and—!

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum, Daddy!” you gasp, tears dotting the corners of your eyes, sparkling in spidery lashes.  

“Yeah, baby?” he breathes, voice dropping to a ragged rasp. “You gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock? Huh? Make a mess on my cock surrounded by all of Daddy’s closest and most esteemed colleagues?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you nearly sob out, palms curling over his wrists, nails clawing at the delicate skin, desperate for an anchor. 

“My dirty fucking girl,” he hisses out, sharp breath stinging your cheek. “Such a good—Ah—good little slut for me, aren’t you?” 

You can no longer respond, rendered stupid from the ardor, potent pleasure corroding your brain and gnawing through your synapses. It’s downright intoxicating, it’s fucking insatiable, it’s simultaneously immense and insufficient, way too much yet not nearly enough, because you need more, you need more, unintelligible pleads shattering on your tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, gush all over Daddy, make a pretty mess on his lap for him. Show everyone in this Goddamn club how gorgeous you look cumming for me.” 

And so you do, ever your Daddy’s best girl, body eager to obey its owner as your cunt convulses around him, copious amounts of slick cascading down his shaft to drench his thighs, sticky and sharp and so fucking sick as he continues to bounce you in his lap. 

The spasming of your cute little hole draws the sweetest whine from the back of his throat, panted out against the curve of your ear, and another bout of warmth rushes to the apex of your thighs, earning you a shuddered little curse, the exhale sweltering against your sweaty skin.

You sound so pretty right before you cum, Daddy. 

Three more pumps of his hips and he’s following, thrusts stuttering as he fucks up messily into you, cock throbbing almost violently and stuffing you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Strong hands hold you firmly in place, cockhead pressed flush to your cervix as he spills himself into you, as he forces you to take every fucking ounce of what he’s giving you. 

And you love it, you love it, you love it, you’re telling him, sentiments pouring from your mouth in a jumbled stream, singular and continuous until your lungs run out of air, voice cutting off with a squeak. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mikey’s murmuring into your skin in response, lips leaving smears of sugary saliva just below your earlobe. 

He allows you to sit on him for a moment, chest heaving against your back with ragged breaths, sweaty forehead pressed tightly to your shoulder. Tilting your head, your rest your cheek on the back of his skull, eyes slipping shut as your own heart begins to calm, cunt still pulsating irregularly around his shaft, almost as if it’s attempting to squeeze a few more drops out of him, his cock acting as a crude plug, keeping most of his cum buried inside of you.

Finally, his head lifts, pressing a tender kiss to the blood-encrusted bite glittering on your shoulder. 

“Go get cleaned up in the washroom,” he mutters gently, pressing another string of kisses along your jaw. “Don’t wipe away any of Daddy’s cum; let it soak into your panties real nice and good, let them get really wet, and then snap a few pictures and send them to me. Can you do that for me, angel?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you slur out, nodding in loose, liquid movements. 

“Good,” he pats your thigh twice. “Now, go.” 

A small noise of affirmation sounds in your throat, head still nodding as Mikey helps you stand between his spread thighs, hands on your waist keeping you upright while you wobble on unsteady legs. 

And the noise that you make as his cum and your slick surges out of you—something caught somewhere between a mewl and a whine, turned on and disappointed simultaneously—is the cutest thing he’s ever heard, a muted coo slipping from his own lips as your hands wrap around his, using them to further stable yourself. 

He holds you for a moment or two longer, making sure you’re sturdy and your knees won’t suddenly give out, before giving you one final squeeze and releasing you, smirking a little as he watches you teeter away on rickety feet. 

Initially, his plan was to have you capture a few naughty photos for him—pretty little things to stash away in his phone for later use, during the nights he’s forced to spend away from you, sitting in expensive cars or laying in lush hotel beds—and force you to wear the gluey, cum-drenched undies for the remainder of the party. 

But then his phone is buzzing, and he’s unlocking it to find your cunt perfectly outlined by thin silk as it sticks to your folds, little clit and hole contoured and accentuated by the slick, shining fabric, soiled by a large, irregular patch of wetness, and oh, there’s no way he’ll be able to wait until you arrive home to fuck you again. 

No, he needs to fuck you now, a sudden burst of adrenaline buzzing through his veins, little sparks and minuscule explosions that have him up and moving in under a second, cock already beginning to fill with life again.

Sheer, potent power permeates the atmosphere around him, trembling off his body in sharp bolts; dense, heavy, cracking with electricity. 

The way the crowd instantly parts for him is awe-inspiring, their gleaming eyes full of terror and worship, hastily tripping over their own toes and ankles to move from his path as he strides toward the washroom, desperate to not be stung by his brilliance, desperate to get as close to the currents as possible without being scathed. 

You’re just exiting the restroom by the time he reaches you, breath punched from your lungs as he backs you into a tiled corner, trapped between the cold wall and his scorching form, his hands splayed wide on either side of your shoulders.

“We gotta go,” he’s nearly panting out as he shoves his forehead against yours, eyes closed and noses nudging, straining cock grinding unceremoniously into your hip. “We gotta go, now.”  

And, well, Daddy always gets what Daddy wants. 

[heliads]

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[thatnonameuser]

Yelloow!! popping in!!!~~ I've seen Dorms, Grim and Staff as Yandere types.... But what of Neige(Vil's Rival), Chenya, and Rollo??~

I know that there are different takes from different kinds of Yandere AU's -- but out of curiosity, I wish of your take!

Let’s do the RSA boys first. 

Royal Sword Academy has a reputation for accepting the ‘princely’ yanderes. Unlike the NRC students, they don’t tend to act on violence unless they have to and their red flags aren’t as bad in comparison. 

But a red flag is still a red flag. 

RSA teaches more gentle ways of pushing darlings to their yanderes. Specifically while they use kidnappings, potions and the works, they use their affection as ball and chain to make sure leaving them is impossible. 

They’re taught to become friends first, and then start being more and more oppressively clingy. To slowly break down the darling’s defenses and walls, and leave them weak to their affection with the power of friendship, love and complete and utter manipulation. 

But it’s not manipulation, it’s being a loving partner.

Chenya’s a bit of unpredictable yandere. He’s a hard read but he’s clingy and a stalker. Chenya’s not overbearing at first. He’s friendly, cryptic but friendly, and then you’ll start to notice him around more and more. Which you might get worried about when he starts to pop up more and more in a school full of people who hate RSA. But he’ll just keep popping up and since your friends, why worry? 

Thanks to his magic, it is very easy for him to vanish and appear as quickly as the wind. So following you around is easy as pie, and with his aforementioned cryptic behavior, it will be quite difficult for you to understand his intentions. Kidnapping you would be a breeze for him, one moment you’re there and the next you're stuck with him forever and ever. 

But with Chenya, you probably won't see the threat of danger till you're too lost to figure your way out. On the brightside, you might like it. Maybe.

Neige LeBlanche ( I am a big BIG fan of the most innocent and gentle seeming people being the most manipulative motherfuckers. So…) is yandere that was actually misdiagnosed as a darling. Neige’s sweet, kind and gentle behavior in his youth lead to his misdiagnosis, and as a yandere he is a mix of delusional and manipulative. Delusional, he believes in true love and happy endings. Finding the perfect partner for his happy ending is a dream for him. (The man thinks of Vil as a friend, he’s deluded plain and simple) But while his delusions fuel his love for you, his manipulative ways can keep you there with no choice. Among the darling child stars of Twisted, Neige held quite the crown back when he was misdiagnosed, and no one can deny darlings anything (minus freedom). His demeanor is so well-meaning that any manipulative behavior is considered to be him just being a good friend or partner. He’s oppressively clingy too, and his manipulation makes sure that the people he cares about are always close. 

For this AU, Neige is a platonic yandere for Vil, and has purposely been sabotaging his casting so that Vil always and only performs with him. 

He’s the kind of yandere that wouldn’t risk killing someone to make you unhappy, but that’s not to say that his fans wouldn’t try to beat his rivals into the ground to protect dear sweet Neige. Neige is aware of how devoted his fans are to him, and he’ll use that to manipulate you, using the pressure to keep you with him, wouldn’t want them to be unhappy, would you?

Noble Bell College has a history with yanderes like many others, but its view on the yandere darling relationship is much different to the rest of the world, and many in Fleur City agree with it. Specifically, that yanderes are the ones in the wrong for their uncontrollable desires and the darlings are…. Well…. Darlings are the embodiment of purity. They haven’t done a single thing wrong to be thrown into this dirty world and yet here they walk amongst the selfish and licentious. But the darlings are not immune to the temptations of the dirty world, and can be lured into danger.

Most, if not all the yanderes at NBC believe that their desires are wrong yet impossible to beat without their darlings. And they all believe that darlings are pure, but in need of salvation from the dirty world. The Righteous Judge had a darling himself, a romani that had fallen for the dirty world’s enchanting song, who he saved and brought her to salvation. (Sure she wasn’t happy about it and the flaming pyre she’d nearly died on was purposely left out of the history books but hey, happy ending?)

Students in NBC are taught that sometimes force is needed to help darlings save themselves from the wretched world. And they won’t be happy about it, it’s for the best. For their salvation. 

Rollo Flamme is a worshiper yandere with a guilty conscience. A devout believer of the ‘darlings are the purest things to be born of this sinful earth’, Rollo has faithfully believed that, and even magical darlings cannot receive his ire because he believes that they had been tempted by its power, thanks to this world’s filth, and need to be saved. 

When it comes to you, a magicless darling not from this sinful, magical world, you rest highest on the podium of purity in his eyes. And because of that, you need to be saved from it, and those who intend to tempt and sully you. 

As for the guilty conscience part….To make adjustments for the AU, I’m making Rollo’s younger brother a darling. But because of how it happened being ambiguous at the time, Rollo was never punished, but this is why he is so protective over you specifically because magic could tear you away from him like his brother. 

In Rollo’s eyes, his darling is the purest thing in the world and if he needs to sully his own hands in every way to rid the world of the filth trying to tempt and defile you all so you can be lead to salvation and the safety of his arms, he’ll do it.

[luffysscraps]

Thinking about dog! Hybrid Luffy🔞

Cw; Fem reader. Pet play. Non-con/Dub-con. Breeding kink. Established relationship.

-He leaves holes everywhere in your yard. Literally the moment you step out into your back yard you almost create a sinkhole due to his digging habits. And he’ll just stare at you with a smile and lick you all over.

-He’s very energetic, running up and down through the house, dashing around every chance he gets and begging you to play with him. “Y/N! Play with me! Throw ball! Throw the ball! Please! Play! Play! Play!” Luffy begs his black tail wagging as he runs in a circle around you.

-He can speak a little, but nothing complex. He says stuff like “let’s go outside!” “I’m hungry!” “Can I sleep on the bed?” “Pets please!” “Walk! Walk!” Despite his simple way of speaking he understands everything you say, but takes a while for it all to process. But he doesn’t get the concept of math at all, numbers don’t make sense to him so don’t even try to teach him it.

-“Luffy!” “ Hi Hi! Y/n!! Good morning! Wanna play? Wanna eat?! I’m hungry! Let’s play! No let’s eat! Can we do both?! Hi hi!” He appears the second you call him babbling on and once you call his attention. You mutter the syllable ‘L’ And all you hear is the jingling of his collar. He’s just so happy you called him! He thought he’d just be squeezing his chew toy all day without you. (Which he squeaks on all day regardless)

-Eats all the meat in the house. You literally can’t stock pile meat and have to buy meat literally two portions at a time. The butchers stare at you funny when you only buy three chicken legs at a time. Or one small tiny portion of beef to feed three. And you come here like every day? Little do they know you have a menace in your home who will eat every scrap of meat you have with no shame. You usually only eat one serving while Luffy eats two plus snacks and extra meals when he begs. And he’s in healthy shape due to his energetic nature.

-"LUFFY NO!" is one of your most used phrases whenever you bring him outside with you. He’s very protective of you and any other male hybrid in around you. He’s quick to jump into fights without any warning signs. He’s happy and docile one minute and then he just pounces on whatever male hybrids come close to you. A crocodile, a bear, a flamingo, he was even crazy enough to fight a dragon?!?

- As aggressive as he is, he’s also super friendly?! Like once hybrids clarify they’re not after you he’s trying to play with them after just giving them a black eye??? And somehow it always ends up working???

-He loves to explore and adventure. He’ll just get up, give you a kiss goodbye and run off for days at a time. He has so many friends with other people and hybrids that you’ve never met or heard before. Like you’re sure half of the people he’s mentioned don’t even live in this area. Where the hell did he go? Well he always returns home safe so there’s nothing to worry about. Plus he’s always so excited to see you when he gets back. “Y/N!! I missed you! I had so much fun! But I missed you a lot! “

-Call him a good boy and he’ll melt. His ears stand up and his tail starts wagging. “Really?! I’m your good boy!” He really likes that nickname.

-Oh and if you don’t like being active I’m sorry but Luffy is not the hybrid for you. He’ll literally drag you out with him, and force you to play with him. Trying to do homework? Mf eats it. Trying to play a video game or watch tv? He unplugs it. Trying to simply rest? No you’re not because he wants to play and he’s a selfish bastard. “Let’s play now Y/N!” He says with those puppy dog eyes as he unplugged the TV for the one hundredth time.

-Brings and makes you gifts all the time! They’re not the usual expensive gifts you expect from a partner. He gifts you, your sock he stole from you like a month ago, Old bones from meat he already ate and gnawed on, Dead rats he killed. And then he also likes to draw and write, he draws pictures of you and him with hearts everywhere. Your fridge is filled with them. And he writes you love letters, they’re simple and short but very sweet.

‘Y/N I love you. You pet me on my head. You play with me. You’re pretty and kind. My heart goes fast when I’m with you. -Love Luffy’

-Now when he’s in heat he turns into a horny demon. “Sex! Sex! Sex! Sex!” He chants bouncing around ripping his clothes to shreds and tackling you to the ground, dry humping your body as you just got home from your nine hour shift.

-You’ll know he’s in heat because now he’s walking around the house butt ass naked, balls out with a sweet and devious smile on his face. Don’t try to make him wear his clothes because he’s not going to AT ALL. He’ll rip them to pieces right in front of you and simply say. “Too hot!”

-Steals ALL of your panties. Literally keeps a heap of them in his bed. And has no shame in it, licking them while you’re watching him. His bed sheets have to be washed daily when he ruts because he cums gallons and will jerk off all day long.

-He just stared at you with lidded eyes. “Please Y/N… sex…” He whines out licking your earlobe. He tries his best to hold back, he really does but his urges take over after holding out for so long. He needs to be inside of you and now.

- And when you bend over it’s practically over. That’s you basically inviting him to mount you and stick his hard on inside! One minute you’re bending down to pick up a book you dropped, the next you’re on the ground, face first with Luffy’s large meaty hard cock inside of your cunt.

-He never really asks but he can smell your hormones. You want it too. Plus your moans are enough to tell him you do! Or are those his moans? He can’t tell at this point, he’s so horny and he needs to release.

-You honestly don’t mind his heat, he’s surprisingly gentle and will stop if you ask him too. But the only thing you have to do is always be on the pill- Luffy has no idea what condoms are and when you tried to put one on him he ripped it off in seconds. “Feels weird. No way!” He says with a smile before pounding into your pussy raw. And because he’s in heat, his number one goal is to get you pregnant.

-So every time you guys fuck and the next day your stomach isn’t big and round with his kids he gets mad. Just staring at you and your stomach. “What’s wrong?! Get pregnant already!” He whines with frustration. Oh well if you didn’t get pregnant the last time, he’ll make sure you do now, every last bit of his cum is going in your pussy. He doesn’t let a drop escape it when he finally releases into you.

-Yeah your hybrid boyfriend is pretty hard to handle, but would you settle for anyone else? Not a chance. <3

[kangmoon27]

AND TO BE CONVICTED | JUNGKOOK FF

Pairing: Badboy! Manipulative Jungkook x Y/n

Summary: you knew how dangerous he is, you know how bad he is and how he's the biggest walking red flag but you blinded yourself for your love for him.

You knew how bad he is. You knew how dangerous he could get. You knew how bad his reputation is. You knew exactly what type of a person he is. You know how he's the biggest walking red flag. You knew that you're not in good hands.

You knew. You exactly know what you're doing but you ignore it, you've been ignoring those red flags, those thoughts, their saying, you completely blinded yourself just to convince yourself that he's good, that he's a good man and that he's only doing those cause he loves you and that he cares for you.

You've been blinded by your love for him that you even choose to stay away from your friends, families that talk shit about him when the truth is that they're not talking shit, they're telling the truth. Everything about it, everything about him and you knew it.

You choose him over everyone, over everything in your life but would he do the same? The answer is no, he wouldn't, he's selfish. A man who only thinks about himself and so full of himself being confident that he could do whatever he wants because of the power that you've shown him, the power where he could control you, you give him the power over you, just like how you do everything he says like a pet, a puppy. A loyal dog. Obedient and behaved with every command he makes.

You woke up in the middle of the night rubbing your eyes and slowly opening them, seeing a figure sitting on the left side of the bed you pulled yourself up and hugged him from behind. "It's already late are you going somewhere?" You asked him.

He didn't respond to your question but instead he pushed your hand away from him making you almost fall on the ground as your weight rested against his back. "When will you go home? You've been staying here for months now." He said sounding annoyed.

You quickly stood up from the bed and went back to hug him again from his back, you rest your head on his shoulder while both of your arms wrapped about her underarms to his shoulder. You saw how he's wiping his g'n. You're not frightened anymore as you've always seen him with one and even pointed it at you where you almost lost your breath on your first encounter, but that is something that makes you want him. It's crazy but you just couldn't go wrong with the feelings of falling for someone who is one in a million.

"Why are you talking about me leaving? Are you not happy that I'm here?" You said while pouting and giggling. You expected him to return you a good answer but what did you expect though he's different remember.

"I'm not happy, you're annoying and irritating, I couldn't have my time alone and I'm not enjoying you anymore, I couldn't f'ck freely because you're like a f'cking radio mouthing and shouting everytime you see me with one then you will lock yourself in the bathroom crying trying to make me what? Pity you? it's annoying okay. I want you to leave" He said before walking out leaving you all alone.

Chuckles only left your mouth as you watched him walking away from you, you found your vision blurring as your eyes filled with tears. Wiping your tears away, taking a deep breath truly helps you to calm down, his words are sharp and biting, it hurts you till now even though he always does that. As you said, you've blinded yourself for him and you're ready to do that each time just cause you love him. He's the only one you have now and you won't take that for granted.

You knew he didn't mean that and that he was just probably taken by his emotion, or maybe he had a rough day, you're ready to understand that anytime, you're ready to do everything for him.

"I see, you're still here huh. Brave" You looked at Yunju and smiled. He's Jungkook's friend at the same time as a business partner in this bar that they run together.

"You believe me now don't you?" You joked that made him laugh but deep inside you're still bruised by his words that's like a paper cut, deep cut. After he finishes arranging papers on the counter he gives you a nod and walks away after tapping your shoulder.

As you entered the stuff only room the first thing that greeted you was a man with a woman sitting on his lap giggle while being inches away from each other's faces. You made up your mind not to argue with him again unless you wanted to be homeless tonight.

"Oh seems like someone is not in the mood today" you knew she's talking about you, she laughs at you after seeing you entering the room without saying anything to them. You grabbed your things and started changing in your work clothes. Trying hard to not give them attention but even if you try harder the scene Infront of you hurts you, mirroring their figures almost eating each other in the same frame your reflection is in pains you.

After you finish changing you shut the door stopping them by the sudden bang.

"Is everything alright?" Yunju asked. He isn't dumb to notice how shallowing your eyes were. He sigh realizing the possible reason. "Come on just give up on him already." You look at him and chuckles "not after everything I went through just to get here." You said trying to lighten the mood.

"Alright then if that's what you wish for, now take this and bring this to the table at the center okay." You nod and took the tray. You work as a waiter in their club after running from him to be with Jungkook.

It's already 3 am in the morning when you get home. You open the bedroom and saw him there. Swallowing hard gulp trying to hold yourself.

He stared at you and smirked. "You're finally here, I've been waiting for you." He stood up and sat you on the bed. Giving you a pouch full of makeup stuff not even giving you a break. "Get ready we will do something fun tonight." He said before leaving you behind.

He pushed you hard making you groan in pain as your back hit the wall. He pins you down, his hand travels down between your th'ghs making you m'an in between his m'uth.

"F'ck You're literally the prettiest girl I've ever tasted." He whispers to your ears. Part of you is happy, being praise like that from him with his manipulative words still gives you all the butterfly in your stomach. He laughed and pulled away. Pulling your hand as you both started running away. Your eyes focuses on his face. Your feet keeps on running that you didn't even notice cause your focus is his face filled with happiness. Your tears flooded and rolls down your face.

After a long run you both stoped. His smile never left his lips. Soon he look at you and found you crying. "Hey, is everything okay?" He asked. He wipe your tears away, keeping you in his arms giving you his greatest comfort. "Baby please, why do you look so sad? Didn't you had fun? You said you always wanted a date under the moon right, it was fun well not until those cops literally chasing us, but I guess it added more fun an-." You cut him off by kissing him. A kiss full of love and admiration for him.

"I love you" you said with tears filled in your eyes.

He smile and pulled you in his embrace. "I love you, it's always and only you, you know that right?" You nod your head and smiled.

"Stop crying, tears are banned from your pretty face my love." You chuckles and nod again. He took his jacket and wear it to you. You both look at each other with so much admiration. After that you heard a whistle you both turn around and saw that cops again.

You both started running away from them. But soon they catch up and eventually pin Jungkook down on the ground. This is the least thing you wanted to happen right now. This is triggering for him. Gosh!! You're losing him again. This is triggering you wanted to run away with him they already have him. He keeps on shouting "run," "run away," "leave" "run" your feet couldn't move, you wanted to stay with him. "Run now!!" That's his last word before his eyes changed and you lost him again his split personality take over him again. You lose the man that you love so much again.

You sobs, you look at him, seeing him trying to release himself from the cops. You turn around and run away with a heavy heart, eyes filled with tears. You lose the battle again. You lose him.

[More?]

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Nineteen

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Insecurity and Talkative Transfer

Summary: Teruhashi tries to figure out what Saik is attracted to, and a new transfer arrives.

            “Teruhashi is pretty again today.”

            “She’s an angel.”

            “I’m soothed just by looking at her.”

            I can hear everything you’re saying, you know, thought Teruhashi. But she kept that perfect smile on her face. Pretending not to hear is annoying for me. I’m a vulnerable maiden who doesn’t know how pretty I am. Don’t make me break that disguise. She winced internally. She knew that (Y/N) was encouraging her to be herself, but performing was so easy… I can’t look selfish…I can’t. Pretend not to hear.

            “Kusuo,” said (Y/N), sitting down next to Saiki. “Are we going to Café Mami and studying later?”

            Saiki nodded.

            Teruhashi sighed and watched them. (Y/N) makes it look so easy. They act like themself and don’t worry about anything. And they get to go and talk to Saiki all the time. He won’t even look my way, but he talks to them…They’re really close.

            Yare yare. If she gets suspicious and not just jealous, that could be a problem.

            I wonder if they’re his type. I mean—I must be. I’m everyone’s type. So why… Teruhashi furrowed her brow. I’ll have to try something new.

l

            (Y/N) tilted their head in confusion as they walked into school the next day. “Kokomi…Are you trying a new style?” they said.

            “Oh, this?” Teruhashi nervously touched the necklace and bead bracelets she had put on. “I just thought it looked nice.” Her backpack was also covered in pins of sweets. And you wear pink and cute things a lot…

            Indeed, while (Y/N) had their germanium earrings in, they still occasionally wore some accessories. Sometimes it was a bow, sometimes a scarf, sometimes it was just the pins and keychains on their backpack—all usually featuring strawberries, cherries, hearts, or sweets. ((Y/N) had earned the “Pinky” nickname from Nendou for a reason).

            “You do look nice,” agreed (Y/N). “It’s just not your usual style. Are you okay?”

            Teruhashi faltered. Was it really that easy to see? Could everyone see she had changed for someone else? Internally, she panicked.

            (Y/N) is perceptive with everyone, it seems.

            “I’m fine,” said Teruhashi quickly.

            “Okay,” said (Y/N), sitting down in their seat. They turned and smiled back at Teruhashi. “But remember, Kokomi, you shouldn’t have to change for someone to like you. They’re not worth it if they don’t like you for you.”

            Teruhashi turned a little pink. “You think so?”

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N). “The right person for you will like you for just being you, and you’ll like them for who they are.”

            “If you’re sure,” said Teruhashi, nervously touching the bracelets she’d put on to see sweeter—even sweeter than usual.

            “I’m sure. After all, you have friends who like you for who you are. Some day it’ll be a partner,” said (Y/N) with a wide smile.

            Teruhashi’s face burned, but she smiled slightly. “Thank you, (Y/N).

            “Of course, Kokomi.”

            Teruhashi looked at her bracelets. I shouldn’t have to change. (Y/N) is right. Her identity was still tied to being preferred by guys, but she was trying to not see herself like that. If friends like (Y/N) saw more than that, then maybe she could… I don’t think I’ll wear these tomorrow. If Saiki is going to like me, it’s going to be me! She looked at (Y/N). Maybe that’s why Saiki likes being around (Y/N). They’re just themself. She sat straighter. So that��s what I’ll do!

            Saiki smiled to himself. She had talked herself out of her own suspicions about how close Saiki and (Y/N) were, and (Y/N) had, once again, just been themself and been wonderful. Looks like I’m not the only one who sees just how good (Y/N) is. He paused and then scowled inwardly. Teruhashi better not get a crush on (Y/N). That would be worse than her having a crush on him.

l

            “There’s a new student,” gossiped a few classmates.

            “Again?” sighed another classmate.

            “Everyone is fed up,” said Saiki.

            “Well, we just got Miko a few weeks ago, so it is strange,” said (Y/N).

            “Why not kill off the first transfer student and turn this show into a mystery thriller?” said Saiki.

            “I don’t like scary stories, so no thanks,” said (Y/N), shivering.

            “Transfer student?” said Yumehara. She frowned. “Could it be…”

            “You know them, Chiyopipi?” said Miko.

            “A guy asked me for directions earlier,” she said.

            “Sorry I’m late,” said their teacher, walking into the room. Everyone looked up. “I’ll introduce our newest student.”

            “Wow, I fell kinda nervous,” said a boy, walking into the room. “I’m so excited to spend our exciting youth together. I’m like a child just before he performs a recital. But I don’t play any instrument. Changing first impressions is difficult. I hear psychologists call it the primacy effect. Have you formed an impression of me?”

            “I can’t tell what he looks like,” said everyone as the speech bubbles obscured their view of their new classmate.

            “Sorry for blabbering on,” said the boy, continuing (it seemed he’d be going for a while). “It’s a bad habit of mine.” He brushed the speech bubbles aside. He had short blond hair and dark eyes. He seemed friendly enough. “I say everything I think of.”

            What?

            “I hope you’ll see I’m just honest,” he said.

            “Akechi, can you go ahead and just introduce yourself?” said their teacher.

            “Is it okay if I take my time?” asked Akechi.

            “Keep it short,” said the teacher, sighing.

            “Keep it short?” repeated Akechi. “But the class won’t know who this guy in their classroom is. Then the class won’t be able to concentrate. But it’s also almost time for next period. As they say, ‘when in Rome,’ so I’ll adjust for you. I’ll give a short introduction.”

            “Too late!” exclaimed everyone.

            “My first name is Touma, my last name is Akechi,” said Akechi. “I’m sure you’ll all wondering, ‘Why did he transfer now?’ I actually have a unique skill. I can—”

            “Let’s all make friends with him,” said their teacher, clapping her hands to interrupt. “That’s the end of homeroom.”

            “That’s one crazy guy,” said Kaidou as people stood up and gathered their things.

            “He’s definitely going to fit in,” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            “Touma Akechi,” said Saiki slowly.

            “What is it?” said (Y/N), noticing Saiki’s curious tone.

            “I don’t know,” he said.

            (Y/N) tilted their head and looked at Akechi. Hm.

l

            “The transfer student is sitting alone,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Well, he didn’t exactly make the best first impression,” said Kaidou. “Primacy effect.”

            “Using a new word, I see,” said Saiki, walking to a table.

            “Maybe we should invite him over,” said (Y/N). “It’s probably difficult being a transfer student if you’re not super outgoing.”

            Kuboyasu nodded. He knew the struggle.

            No, he doesn’t, he was just struggling to not beat everyone up.

            “That’s a good idea,” said Kuboyasu.

            “I’ll go, too,” said Kaidou.

            “Wait—” Saiki pouted as (Y/N) walked away from him. What about me?

            “Hi, Akechi,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I’m (L/N), and this is Kuboyasu and Kaidou. Do you want to join us for lunch today?”

            Akechi smiled. “I was getting bored by myself.”

            “Okay, then,” said Kuboyasu. “We’re sitting over there with—”

            “You’re all in my class,” said Akechi. “I’m glad you talked with me. What was everyone talking about? I couldn’t decide what to eat. But I decided to have curry.”

            None of the others could get any words in edgeways. They all sweat-dropped.

            “I’d rather have what you brought instead,” said Akechi. “Oh, I’m sorry, take a seat.”

            (Y/N) looked back at Saiki and smiled apologetically.

            Quit stealing my partner! Saiki grumbled to himself.

            “Damn, Akechi, you sure talk a lot,” said Kuboyasu.

            “I do,” said Akechi. “I’ve been holding back since I got here.”

            “Holding back?” exclaimed Kaidou.

            “Wow,” said (Y/N), impressed with how talkative Akechi was.

            “When I’m still getting to know someone, I just keep—”

            Shut up. Even sitting farther away, Saiki could hear Akechi way too easily. (Also, he was peeved about not getting to sit with (Y/N)).

            “Okay, stop talking for a bit.” Kuboyasu bluntly interrupted. “Just speak up when we ask you a question.”

            “Okay, I’ll be quiet,” said Akechi. “But is it okay to clear my throat? Oh, and I need to eat…”

            “Close your mouth!” said Kuboyasu.

            Akechi covered his mouth and gave a thumbs-up.

            “Ask him something, Shun,” said Kuboyasu.

            “What do you think about death?” said Kaidou instantly.

            “Heavy stuff,” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            That’s your first question?

            “That’s a difficult one!” said Akechi. “Well, that’s a scary thought, but we are mortals, after all—”

            “I see,” said Kaidou, but Akechi wasn’t done.

            “—I try to accept death—”

            “That’s enough,” said Kuboyasu.

            “—Who knows what’ll happen when it comes?”

            “We got it already!”

            “But I haven’t answered yet,” said Akechi.

            “Sorry, that was a bad question.” Kuboyasu looked at (Y/N). “Ask him an easier question.”

            “Do you have any hobbies?” asked (Y/N).

            “Hobbies are what you do in your free time, right? There’s an infinite amount of them,” said Akechi. “For example, I pee in the shower. That could be a hobby.”

            “I don’t think that counts,” said (Y/N).

            Don’t engage with him.

            “That’s still too long! What’s with you, man?!” said Kuboyasu. Kaidou grabbed Kuboyasu before he could jump across the table. “And why are you telling us that you pee in the shower?!”

            “Aren, calm down!” said Kaidou.

            “Uh-oh,” said (Y/N), pushing Kuboyasu back down into his seat.

            “Sorry!” said Akechi. “I don’t want to upset anyone who used to be in a gang.”

            “…”

            Kuboyasu let go and stared at Akechi. “How did you know I was in a gang?”

            “I could tell by looking at you,” said Akechi. “I mean, your glasses are fake. The way your hair and clothes are so tidy. Clearly, you want to go off the impression that you’re normal. But your rough language, subtle musculature, the way you look, and your fists give you away.”

            “Really? Most people wouldn’t notice,” said Kuboyasu.

            “I suppose. It’s apparent to me, though,” said Akechi. “This trait of mine seems to surprise people. People at my previous school used to say I was a psychic.”

            (Y/N) nearly laughed out loud and smothered the reaction.

            Saiki’s eyes widened suddenly, and a faint echo of words flew through his mind. “Wow, how did you do that? You’re like a psychic!” What was that image?

            “Also, I can find lost objects and see through people’s lies,” said Akechi.

            “That’s pretty cool,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “So you are kind of psychic,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Oh, no, I’m not a psychic,” said Akechi.

            “I know that, psychic powers aren’t real,” huffed Kuboyasu.

            Again, (Y/N) smiled to themself.

            “No, psychic powers are real,” said Akechi. He was completely calm as he spoke, and (Y/N) paused at his serious tone. “I’ve seen them before.”

            Saiki’s eyes widened, and he gripped his tray tightly.

            “What? Tell us!” said Kaidou excitedly.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. Is it another psychic? Or is it…Kusuo?

            “You’re so gullible,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Let’s save it for another time,” said Akechi, smiling.

            “You won’t talk about it?” said Kaidou, disappointed.

            “It was when I was in elementary school,” said Akechi. “Something happened one day that could only be explained by psychic powers. So, I was awfully surprised when I came to class and saw him again.”

            Uh-oh, so it is Kusuo, thought (Y/N).

            Akechi turned around to look at Saiki at the table behind them.

            Oh, no.

            “It’s been a while, Kusuo,” said Akechi. “Don’t you remember that day?”

            “Saiki?” said Kuboyasu and Kaidou cluelessly.

            “Did you forget about me?” said Akechi, still looking at the back of Saiki’s head. “Akechi is my mother’s maiden name, so my name used to be Touma Asumi.”

            “You can use psychic powers, can’t you?” said a young Akechi. “Kusuo, that’s amazing!”

            “I’m so glad to see you again!” said Akechi. “I can finally ask you about what I’ve always been wondering about. You’re a psychic, right?”

            Oh, NO!

            “I’ve wanted to ask you about it for ten years since you moved. Are you a psychic?” said Akechi, leaning in.

            Yare yare. I didn’t really want to use this particular power, but I’ll show you. Saiki turned around and trained the most perplexed, confused face ever to exist. Check out this clueless face.

            Everyone stared. (Y/N) resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

            “That face brings back memories!” said Akechi, grinning. “It was during first grade when I asked you the same question, and you made the exact same face.”

            “What do you mean?” said Kuboyasu, frowning.

            “A psychic? What?” said Kaidou. “Saiki, do you know this guy?

            “Yes, we were classmates in elementary school,” said Akechi. “Kusuo suddenly moved away, so it was only for two years. I met Kusuo during the opening ceremony. I wet myself from nervousness, and Kusuo sat next to me—”

            “I didn’t ask you,” said Kaidou, sweat-dropping.

            “Saiki, do you know him?” asked Kuboyasu.

            “It’s true, but it was way back in second grade,” said Saiki. He shrugged and continue to put his clueless face on. “I’m still clueless.”

            “He doesn’t remember,” said (Y/N), trying to cut in and help.

            “And come on, there’s no way he’s a psychic,” chuckled Kuboyasu. “We’ve never seen anything like that.”

            “If he had powers like that, he wouldn’t hide that from us,” said Kaidou. “We were once stranded—”

            Yare yare. I need to think of a plan. He looked at (Y/N), and he saw them glancing at him worriedly.

            “Stranded?” said Akechi.

            “It was awful,” said Kaidou. “If food hadn’t drifted ashore, we would’ve been screwed.”

            “I see.” Akechi was clearly thinking of how suspicious that occurrence was.

            Let’s stop talking about that.

            The bell rang.

            “Oh, it’s time for class,” said (Y/N), standing quickly. “Let’s go before we’re late, Kusuo.”

            “Right.” He stood with (Y/N).

            “By the way, Kusuo,” said Akechi. “I’m 99% sure that incident was your doing. If I can find proof that you have psychic powers, then you’re undeniably involved in that incident. I promise I’ll find the proof—”

            Saiki closed the door of the cafeteria closed. “Yare yare.”

            “Are you alright?” said (Y/N).

            “He knows. If he finds proof, he’ll tell everyone,” said Saiki, clenching his fists.

            (Y/N) took Saiki’s hand. “Hey, we’ll handle it together. Alright?”

            Saiki relaxed slightly. “Yare yare. To think there would be someone who remembers that time in second grade…”

            “What happened?” asked (Y/N).

            “I was young. I lost control of my powers,” said Saiki. He squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. “I’ll tell you more another time. I don’t—I’m not proud of that moment.”

            “That’s alright,” said (Y/N). They would give Saiki time. “But remember, you were young. Things happen. You’re more in control now.”

            “Thank you.”

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@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

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[graysdarling]

〡𝓖. hawthorne ˎˊ˗ sfw headcanons.

- summery: sfw headcanons about our favorite boy!

- warnings: idk none

- words: 2.1k

- voicemail: this was requested by @kit4strophe here! i love gray twirls hair

a = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

grayson would be the type of guy to definitely show affection. not the big kind, but the small kind. holding each others fingers while you get the groceries, feet touching underneath the table while you talk to avery and his brothers, a few hands around your waist from time to time. he’s the kind of guy to think that the smallest of touches mean a lot.

b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

oh, it would take a while to be his friend. he has major trust issues and is not the most friendliest person out there. (not that he cares.) though, when you kick down those walls of his, he would be that kind of best friend that’s sensible. stopping you from making mistakes, helping you study, looking out for you. he would totally be overprotective of you. he sees you as family, how could he not? (it definitely isn’t because of another reason.)

c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle)

the shock you would feel whenever you see that he actually likes to cuddle. not that much, of course, but in those perfect nights when he can’t sleep and you want to help him sleep? he’s as close to you as possible. hell, half the time he doesn’t even realize he was pulling you closer to his chest and digging his face into your neck. he’d never admit it of course.

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

once he sees that you’re the one for him, he’d want to settle down. he won’t care where, as long as he’s with you, he’s fine with it. he’d also be the one cooking and cleaning. you’d want to help, and sometimes, he’d let you. but other times? nope. he wouldn’t want you to do all of the cleaning and cooking when he was right there. especially if you don’t know how to cook. he would never let you in the kitchen after what happened last time.

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he would not want to break up with you. the thought of being away from you physically pains him, so whenever he had to break up with you? what, are they trying to kill him now? if he had to break up, he wouldn’t be the one ending the relationship . it would have to be you. the words couldn’t even come out of his mouth. on the other hand, if he had to break up to protect you, he’d be selfish. make you hate him so you could move on quicker. even if it breaks his heart, he would do anything for you.

f = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

he doesn’t know how to react to marriage because of his mother. for half, he thinks that marriage is important and wonderful. the other part of him thinks that marriage is useless. but, if he heard from avery that you want to get married, you better bet that he’s—about to have a panic attack. hey, can you blame him? after that, he’d totally be okay with marrying you. anyone else? hell no. but he began to realize that your name with hawthorne at the end of it was starting to sound good.

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

i could go on a full on RANT about how this man seems like he’s sharp and rough. he wants to be. but with you? he’s just a lovesick puppy. he takes care of you, like you were his most prized possession—which in his eyes, you were. (in the most non-sexist way.) at first, he treated you like that because he was afraid. afraid if he was too rough you would leave him. but now? it’s just an instinct. he likes to be gentle with you. sometimes he’s rough, but that’s rare.

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they it what are their hugs like?)

grayson isn’t the type of guy to hug you twenty-four seven, but, he is the type of guy to give you the most amazing hugs ever. at least you think so. back hugs and tight hugs where he bends you back a bit are his go-to.

i = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

grayson says i love you in different ways. when he squeezes your hand three times; i love you. when he puts a hand on your knee whenever you’re anxious; i love you. when you’re lying your head on his chest and his arm is around your waist; i love you. when he started to try when he actually says it, it would be on a date. a month after you two got together. it was perfect—the two of you were on a walk, leaving a date. you just looked too beautiful underneath the trees while the lights shined against your face—it slipped out.

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do if they’re jealous?)

i don’t see grayson as the type to get jealous. hell, he barely gets jealous. he knows you’re loyal and he knows his worth. but, the few—very few—times he is jealous, he’s quiet jealous. he doesn’t say anything vocally, but he does touch you more. a simple hand around your waist or on your back. most of the time, that was enough. that, and with death staring at the dude who decided to try to hit on you.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

he has two types of kisses. long, passionate ones that make you breathless and lean into him, or short, small ones that make you giggle and smile. he doesn’t have a particular spot where he likes to kiss you, but he’s fond of forehead kisses or just real kisses.

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

he’s literally so nervous and doesn’t know what to do around children. he only likes a few type of children. when he’s with those, he’s soft and gentle, making sure not to treat them harshly or to make them sad. definitely spoils them. he tries to hide his frown whenever he has to leave them, but you totally see past his fake face.

m = mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

peaceful, calm. he’d spend a few minutes just staring at you, looking at your sleeping face. he wouldn’t wake you up, though, and instead he’d get up and do his morning routine then make breakfast for the two of you. (he denies whenever jameson or xander asks if he could have some) and then wake you up so you could have some.

n = nights (how are nights spent with them?)

perfect. at least he would think that. it depends on what the two of you are feeling, but most of the time, you’re forcing him to watch another episode of your favorite movie series with him before he forces you to go to bed. when you’re not feeling that, he’s trying skin care with you. don’t want to put face masks on? he’s setting a bath for the two of you. other nights, he takes you on dates. whether it he to a fancy restaurant or a simple picnic date while looking at the stars; it’s perfect.

o = open (how would they start to reveal themselves? do they say everything at once or start slowly?)

oh, with grayson, definitely slowly. just some facts about him here and there, letting you slowly get to know him while he comes out of his shell that he (secretly) desperately wants to come out of. (even though he says he’s fine with not talking to anyone) whenever you start to remember the facts and reminders he told you about himself, he practically felt him fall faster for you. maybe, one night, when it’s just the two of you, he’ll come clean and tell you everything.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

it takes a lot to get grayson hawthorne angry, but when it comes to you, he’s like an overprotective dog. it might not seem like it, but whenever someone tries to walk all over you or talks shit about you he’s already planning their downfall. now, with you, you’ve never seen him angry before. playful angry, yes, or maybe a bit annoyed, but not full on anger.

q = quizes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention or do they kind of forget everything?)

he never forgets anything. if he feels like he’ll forget, he’s taking pictures. pictures that make him feel like he was there again; the way your laugh sounded like in his ears, the way you smiled, everything. he sometimes brings up the details that you told him and whenever you look at him with wide eyes, he just looks at you curiously. of course he’d remember everything about you. he was your boyfriend. what was he, a thirteen year old boy?

r = remember (what’s their favorite moment in your relationship?)

definitely the date he took you on before the two of you had your first kiss. he took you to one of those fancy restaurants—but one that wasn’t too crowded because he knew how you get with a lot of people—and turns out, he’d already made a reservation for the two of you. he would push out your chair so you could sit in and push it back in for you, like the gentleman he is. he’d be the one ordering (if you want him to) and of course he got your order right. if you were a picky eater, he made sure that anything that you didn’t like wasn’t on your plate. then, after eating, naturally, he payed and grabbed your hand as you got up. once you got into his car, he couldn’t help but to feel excited. he would take you to his favorite place, the place that only the two of you know about. your place. and he thought that that place would stay his favorite forever.

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

like i said, grayson is like an overprotective dog. he’d make sure that you weren’t doing anything that would get you hurt and would not take the shit people say about you. your life before his. though, he couldn’t lie that it does make him happy whenever you want to protect him too.

t = try (how much effort would they put in dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks?)

are we talking about the same person here? this is GRAYSON HAWTHORNE. of course he’d put so much effort into the dates, just to see you smile. you’re going on a date? boom, reservation, music, ect ect. you want it to be small? boom you’re watching the stars with him. your anniversaries are coming up? the bed’s filled with rose petals and on your bedside table? a large bouquet filled with your favorite flowers with bags underneath it. barnes and noble, dior, the whole thing. half assed dates or presents are not in his vocabulary people!

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

overthinking, sometimes not telling you things. also kissing you a lot. definitely a bad habit.

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

when he was a kid, he was insecure. that trauma was with him growing up, which only added on-to his everything about me needs to be perfect mindset. but with you? insecurities gone. of course, sometimes he’d be worried about how he looked in front of you—does he look bad? is it too much? do you find it embarrassing?—but with one smile of yours and words, immediately gone. he was safe with you and he knew that.

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

yep. do i need to say anymore? of course he would. you’re his world in his eyes and without you? absolutely destroyed gone dead gone.

x = xtra (a random headcanon about them)

GRAYSON HAWTHORNE LISTENS TO ASMR PEOPLE. well, at least he used to. it stops him from overthinking at night and lets him actually sleeps. when the asmr doesn’t work, he swims. (he never tells anybody about it though, you just found him listening to it on accident)

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like in a partner)

emily laughlin.

z = zzz (whats a sleep habit of theirs?)

he literally needs physical touch to sleep. he doesn’t know why, but ever since the two of you got together, he can’t sleep without you. just light finger touches? he’s already asleep knowing you’re by his side. you aren’t there? he’s staring up at the roof, practically counting the seconds before you come back from your trip.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @imaseabear @tornqdowarnings @flowers-for-em @alwaysthefangirl @luvv-danielle @sheisntyou @inmyheaddd

[hyunniesgirl]

Another Love | Part 4

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 6,639

Warnings for this chapter: angst(as usual)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

A/N: I'm sorry it took me a bit longer to write this part, I'm just in a weird place right now. I'm doubting a lot about my skills as a writer and that leads me to believe everything I write sucks so this was a bit harder to write, I hope you all like it though.

Jisung has been dreaming about you lately. Going back to every little memory he has with you, watching all the signs you gave him while he was oblivious to you, to your feelings.

It's been almost a week since Han ended things with Lia. The things she said are still stuck in his head, he can't be in love with you. Not after rejecting you. Not after everything you went through to get over him. Not now, when you're happy with someone else.

Things are going back to the way they were before, except that now your roles are reversed, he's the one hanging on your every word and movement, all the little details about you look fascinating to him. He's never felt this way before.

You're not avoiding him anymore. Things fell into place slowly, you started having dinner together again, talking about your day. Then you got back to making coffee for him in the morning, waking him up with the nice scent so he wouldn't be too grumpy woking up so early.

He has a mission now: to stop these strange thoughts he's having. Even if he is indeed feeling this way about you, he lost his chance. He knows he did. Right now, he wants to focus on being a good friend to you, the same as he was before the confession happened.

Jisung just didn't expect how he would feel seeing you with Jeongho again. You invited all your friends to dinner in a nice restaurant, to officially introduce your boyfriend to everyone.

This must be how you felt seeing him with all his previous partners, you must have felt this ache in your chest, as if someone was holding your heart and squeezing it to their heart's content.

You look pretty, hair tied in a ponytail and a dress he never saw before, maybe it's a gift from your boyfriend, he wouldn't know. He avoids talking about your relationship, too selfish to handle the same pain you did for so many years.

Your friendship is getting back to what it was, even though he screwed up really badly, you were the bigger person and forgave him, so he has no right feeling this way about you.

Jisung knows it would be better for you and for him if you didn't come back to the apartment but he's too greedy, he wants you close to him.

This whole problem began because he was greedy, afterall. He didn't want to stay away from you, then he hurt you again and again trying to fix things. Now he just wants to make things right, he just wants you to be happy.

You're smiling so brightly it actually makes his heart skip a beat. He sips from his drink, trying to calm his heart a bit and watch as the others try to make small talk.

“So how did you meet y/n?” Chan asks Jeongho.

“I had the biggest crush on her in middle school but she mercilessly rejected me”, Jeongho answers, looking at you and smiling playfully.

“I thought he had lost a bet or something”, you defend yourself.

“Why would you think that?” Han asks, surprised and you stare at him for a second before shrugging. Of course Jisung was not the only reason for you to reject Jeongho, you were just learning about your feelings at that time. You just couldn't get your head around why someone older and handsome like Jeongho would want to have anything to do with you.

“Y/N was one of the prettiest girls in our school”, Han comments, not understanding why you would feel like that.

He always thought you were pretty, that's why he always complimented you and gave you clothes saying they would look good on you.

“I think teenagers are just insecure. I guess it's part of growing up”, you sip from your wine glass.

Jisung never thought you were insecure about anything by the way you carried yourself with your head high, always so sure about everything you put your mind into. Maybe there's too much he doesn't know about you.

The rest of the dinner goes well, your friends are being nice and trying to make Jeongho comfortable, you're happy about it. Everything seems to be falling into place with your best friend by your side being his normal self and your boyfriend, the guy you're falling in love with being just perfect. Your heart is finally healing, you're moving on, things are working out. You couldn't wish for anything else, you just want things to stay like this forever.

“Are you happy?” Jisung asks when you're outside the restaurant, Jeongho stepped out to take a call from work and left you and your friends alone. One by one they called it a night, saying their goodbyes and leaving you and Han alone.

You stare at him for a moment before answering.

“Yes, I am”, you're not sure why he wants to know and not even sure why you're thinking so much before answering.

Jisung smiles, a sincere and bright smile.

“I'm glad”, he says, “I want you to be happy”

You are a bit taken aback, you didn't expect him to react this way, he almost sounds like a grown up now.

“Thanks, I-”

“I'm sorry I kept you waiting”, Jeongho's voice cuts you out. He slides his arm over your shoulders pulling you closer.

“I should get going”, Jisung says, turning his gaze away from you and your boyfriend.

“Aren't you going home?” You ask and he shakes his head, he's not sure if he can stay at the same place with you two for much longer. “Oh, are you going to Lia's?”

There's not a bit of discomfort in your face, so he just nods. He's not sure if now is the best moment to tell you about his situation with Lia.

“Okay, see you tomorrow then”, you hesitate, not sure if it's appropriate, but you try not thinking too much, throwing your arms around him, squeezing him into a hug. You would never think twice about hugging him before your confession, there's no need for you to make it awkward now.

You're trying to get things back to the way they were and Jisung notices that, he's grateful. So the only thing he can do is wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you back.

Jisung didn't want to lie, but he's afraid it may be uncomfortable to you if he says he's not with Lia anymore. And he's afraid you'll be able to see right through him, see that he is giving in to the strange feelings he's trying so hard to avoid.

He ends up sleeping on Chan's couch, if he could call that ‘sleeping’. Everytime he closes his eyes, you show up in his mind, smiling, making a joke, just looking at him. Everytime he finally managed to fall asleep, you would be there, together with your boyfriend, giggling and kissing him while Jisung just watched. He would wake up sweating and stare at the ceiling for at least ten minutes before trying to sleep again.

>><<

After pondering what he wanted to do from now on, Jisung decided he should have some closure with Lia. He didn't like the way things ended with her, he really liked her until a certain point and above all, she is a good person. Even though he didn't want to, he ended up hurting her and he should apologize for that.

Awkward. That's the best word to explain the situation that Jisung finds himself in right now. Lia is on the other side of the table, glaring at him like she could kill him with the power of her mind.

“What is it that you want?” She asks, coldly.

He clears his throat, trying to gather some courage.

“I want to apologize”, he says, “I shouldn't have lead you on even though I already knew something was not right”, sighing he looks at her, biting his lower lip, “I'm just… confused, I ended up hurting you in the middle of this mess and I'm really sorry”

Lia looks at his eyes, staring deeply. She can feel his sincerity but she's not sure if only an apology is enough to make up for the pain he caused. She's not crazy, she knows people can't control how they feel most of the time. Maybe if he just admits he likes you, she'll feel at ease.

“So, have you finally accepted that you're in love with y/n?”

Jisung thinks for a bit, trying to put what he is feeling into words.

“I don't know if love is the right word”, he says, fidgeting with his fingers, “but I'm feeling some weird things around her, when she smiles or laughs, or even when she's doing nothing”, he covers his mouth with his hand in a slap, wide eyes, realizing he is talking about being in love with someone else with the girl that likes him.

Lia chuckles.

“It's alright, I'm pretty sure that's the definition of love though”, she sighs looking at Jisung. “Maybe you never felt that before”

It's not easy for her to be kind and comprehensive at the moment, but it's not like being mean is going to make him like her back. She's not actually even sure if she wants that anymore. Maybe her heart just accepted things ended, maybe she was already preparing herself for this since Han started acting differently, but the pain is not as great as she thought it would be. Maybe seeing him naively admitting his feelings made her have some sympathy for the mess he made of his relationship with you, maybe she didn't like him as much as she thought.

Since the beginning, there were too many maybes in this relationship. Lia knows she deserves better, she deserves someone who's sure about her, no maybes.

“I think I can forgive you, yeah”, she chuckles seeing Jisungs shocked face, “not now, obviously”, with a sigh, she looks deeply into his eyes, “you were always great to me before things started going wrong and I know you're not a bad person���, she stands up, “I'm actually feeling bad for you, with the mess you created I have no idea how you're going to fix it, but I'll cheer for you”, she puts her hand in his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. Lia leaves Jisung there, stuck in his head once more. At least that is something they both have in common, because he sure doesn't know how he's going to keep these strange feelings under control while fixing his relationship with you.

>><<

If Jisung had to rate his acting skills, he would be proud to say he deserves an award. He's succeeding at pretending not to be in love with you while maintaining a healthy friendship.

It's almost the same as it was before, except Jisung has to watch his every move. He's trying to act normal while trying to crush the onslaught of feelings in his chest everytime you laugh at one of his jokes, or when you just talk about your very normal day.

You both do your things during the day, have dinner together and talk or watch something before sleeping, that's your routine when Jeongho is not visiting.

You've been watching your phone lately, more than usual, is there something wrong? He's sure you're just waiting for Jeongho's call. Jisung has lost count of how many nights he spent listening to your laughs on the phone with your boyfriend, wishing it was him making you happy like that.

It's true, he's struggling. He's not sure how you managed to like him for so long without freaking out, because he's about to collapse and it's been just about a month since he came to terms with his feelings.

He feels bad just thinking about how much you must have suffered because of him, before and after your confession. Guilt is eating him alive, along with heartbreak.

He's been watching you for a while now, you are washing the dishes while talking about these kids you tutor and how smart they are, he's staring at you with heart eyes—you're not seeing—while he dries the dishes.

“I'm sure they can only learn so fast because it's you teaching them”, Jisung says.

You giggle to his compliment, bumping a shoulder into his.

“Should we watch a movie before going to bed?” You ask, drying your hands on your apron.

“I'm actually kinda sleepy”, Jisung laughs, he can only keep his feeling bottled for so long, he doesn't want to get careless and blurt out everything. He knows that if he gets too comfortable he'll feel at ease and you were always too good at making him tell you what's on his mind.

“Let's do it another time then”, you shrug, taking your phone out of your pocket and smiling when the screen brightens with Jeongho's name.

Han feels his chest tighten, he wants to throw up, he wants to cry, he wants to plead for you to not like someone else. But he can't do any of those things, not when you're so happy. So he won't be selfish, he'll think about you first and keep his distance.

>><<

It's been almost a month since the last time you saw Jeongho. He was not able to come by on the usual weekends because the company he works for is opening a new branch somewhere and he is involved in the project.

He's been busy, texting less and not even calling, so you start getting insecure. What if he's getting cold feet about your relationship? Maybe he met someone more interesting who's near him.

No. Jeongho wouldn't be like that. He would break up if he didn't like you anymore, you know him enough to know that.

When he calls saying he's coming to see you, you feel excited once again. You knew you were mistaken, it's not right to presume the worst just because he's a bit more busy. It must be nothing.

You just can't shake the feeling that you were going through the calm before the storm and now the bad weather is finally coming.

He's waiting for you at the restaurant of the hotel he's staying in, Jeongho is fidgeting with his fingers nervously, looking around until his eyes land on you. You smile at him, waving at him but he doesn't smile back.

“Hey”, you say, dropping your bag on the chair and sitting, “is there something wrong?”

“I received a promotion”, he says suddenly, he doesn't look happy about it.

“That's great”, you smile, taking his hand into yours to hold it, not really understanding his reaction.

He stares at your hands together, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Actually, the company wants me to go to Europe”, Jeongho says, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh”, you frown, “for how long?”

“They are not sure about the exact period, but-”, he clears his throat, looking around, “they are projecting it to be between five and eight years”, he replies, feeling his breathing quickening.

“They want you to move there?” You repeat it to yourself, trying to absorb the information.

“They are trying to make an entry in the European market, so a team is needed there to develop the new branch”

“Okay, yeah”, you feel dizzy, “we can work with that, hm, I can- we can visit each other”, you nod, trying to organize your thoughts.

“Y/N-”, Jeongho starts, his voice fails and he stops for a moment before continuing. “Long distance works right now because we are a 2 hour flight away from each other, not 12 hours”

“What are you saying?” You feel all the air in your lungs escape, knowing exactly what he means but choosing not to believe it.

“I don't think we can keep doing this, I'm not sure our relationship is going to survive and-”, he sighs, running his hand through his hair, “I won't ask you to come with me”

“Why not? Why won't you ask me?” You plead, feeling tears brimming in your eyes. It's not logical what you're asking of him, but you don't want to hurt anymore, not again.

“How could I? I can't make you leave your whole life here, your family, your friends or college to go to a country where you know no one but me”, he explains, “I’ll be in charge of a large project, I'll have to stay late probably everyday and you're going to stay alone, how could I do that to you?”

“Don't you think that's for me to decide?” You ask, feeling your hands shaking. You put them in between your legs, trying not to show him the sight of your broken heart.

“I can't- I can't carry that guilt with me”, he says, “not knowing how happy you are here, if you go with me and things end up not working out I could never forgive myself”

“What if things work out? What if we are happy together forever? Did you consider it for a moment?” You ask, he's not looking at you. Jeongho is trying to hold his own tears, trying to be strong for you, “I guess this relationship is not worth you considering it”, you stand up, grabbing your bag.

He lifts his eyes to look at him, finding your quivering lips and the tears flooding from your eyes.

“Well, good luck then”, you tell him, turning around and walking out.

After walking far enough from the hotel, you let yourself crouch on the floor, scaring the people walking by. You are sobbing, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes, but they keep coming continuously.

You stand up again, walking, what are you supposed to do now? When are things going to finally get better for you? Since you confessed to Jisung things got worse over and over, you should have never told him about your feelings, maybe your life would have stayed the same.

The hurt you felt seeing him with other people was a pain you were already used to, but this? This is excruciating, it's the same all over again, the same as when Jisung rejected you. Will you ever feel complete again?

It's 3 a.m, Jisung went to the studio to work for a bit and to try to forget about everything else. His phone buzzes in his pocket, when he looks at the screen, your name is there. He doesn't think twice about answering, just to find your drunk voice on the other side of the call. He can't understand a thing you're saying just that you'll share your location with him.

He grabs the keys to his car, running to the parking lot, he drives for about thirty minutes until arriving where you are. The bar is empty, there are only employees cleaning and you're laying on the counter, unconscious.

“It's been a while since we closed, but we let her stay inside since it looks like she went through something”, the bartender tells Han when he gets closer.

“Thank you”, Jisung says, before trying to wake you up with no success. He sighs, looking around and thinking about what to do.

He slides one of your arms around his neck, putting one of his hands behind your back for support and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up.

Your face is puffy, he can see it now that he's looking so closely, you probably cried a lot but what would make you cry like that?

Jisung glances at you a few times during the ride home. You groan, whining something in your sleep, even crying a bit. That makes him even more worried.

He repeats the process of picking you up when he parks in front of your apartment, carrying you inside. You whimper all the way to the apartment, he knows you can wake up at any moment.

Han sits you on your bed, taking your coat off and helping you lay down, covering you with a blanket after taking off your shoes. Your makeup is all smeared, so he picks a wet tissue and starts rubbing your face, trying to take off everything he can.

You open your eyes slowly, seeing Jisung with a focused expression while whipping your face.

“What are you doing?” You ask, making him jump. He was so concentrated he didn't even see you waking up.

“I was trying to take your makeup off”, he says, “it's not good for you to sleep with it on your face”

“How did I come home?” You look around, stumbling a bit over your words.

“You don't remember calling me?” He asks and you shake your head. “I went to the bar to pick you up”

Jisung is still whipping your face while he talks, that's when you remember why you were in the bar in the first place and tears run out of your eyes again.

“What happened? Why are you crying like this?” He asks worriedly, helping you sit on the bed.

“I don't- everything goes wrong for me”, you say, sobbing. “Maybe I'm the problem”

Jisung sighs, pulling you into a hug and holding you tightly, feeling your tears soak his shirt. He's worried and doesn't know what to do, should he call Hannah? Or Jeongho? Jisung knows you went to meet with him earlier… wait, did that guy do this to you?

After you stop sobbing for a while, Jisung realizes you fell asleep in his embrace. He lies you on the bed, covering you with the blanket once more. He leaves a glass of water and some hangover medicine on your nightstand so you can take in the morning and prepares his bed on the floor.

You wake up to the bright sunlight coming from the window, your head hurts like crazy and you're so thirsty it seems like a thousand years since you last drank something.

You take the hangover medicine and the water, while sitting down, still a bit dizzy. When your feet touch the floor, it's not the hard ground they meet but something soft. Why is Jisung sleeping by your bedside?

He doesn't look a bit comfortable, although he seems fast asleep. You start poking him, trying to make him wake up, causing your friend to jump and hold your arm.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyes widened.

You frown at the sight, it's been a while since you last saw Jisung this startled.

“Yeah”, you answer and he can finally let out the breath he didn't even notice was being held. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

He looks around for a bit as if he didn't understand why you were asking such a thing.

“Oh, I- hm- I was afraid you would need something so I stayed here just in case”, he tells you and you nod.

It's not an uncommon occurrence for you two to do this kind of thing, even when you were living with your parents. When one of you got sick, it was a tradition to stay by each other's side until the other felt better.

When you moved in with him, naturally, your drinking habits grew since you didn't have to worry about your parents anymore. Jisung was responsible for taking care of you when you came home wasted after partying with Hannah or even when you drunk with him and the boys, he made sure to stay sober enough to still be able to take you home and help you get to your room safely.

“Oh”, you answer, “thank you”

He kept staring at you, waiting for something you're not sure what is.

“Do you want to talk about the reason you got wasted last night?” He asks, awkwardly and the pain comes back all at once.

It was so nice, the period of numbness after waking up from a deep sleep, you wish you could keep feeling that way. Now, your hands are trembling again, just like last night, tears are brimming in your eyes and your lips are quivering. It's obvious to Jisung, you're trying not to cry.

He gets up, collecting the things he used to sleep, without looking at you, he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable.

“We don't have to talk about it”, he says, putting the blanket and pillow back in your wardrobe. “Do you want me to call Hannah?” He asks and you stare at him for a moment, nodding to his question, not really wanting to look at your phone.

You're scared Jeongho contacted you, you don't want to see him. But more than anything, you're scared he didn't try talking to you at all, because that means everything is really over.

It's pathetic, you know that break ups happen. But Jeongho was the first guy to ever make you feel the closest to what you ever felt for Jisung, no other could do that and you're scared no one ever will.

Hannah gets to your place about an hour after Jisung called her. She's huffing, hair messed up and puffy face.

“Were you sleeping?” You ask her and she takes a deep breath, seeing that you're okay.

“I'm going to kill that guy”, she yells out of the door to your room, “he made it seems like you were dying or something”

“If I was dying I'm pretty sure he would have taken me to the hospital”, you point out.

Hannah rolls her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor. Closing the door, she walks slowly to sit on your bed, she can clearly see that you cried a lot.

“So, did something happen?” She asks, you avoid her gaze, looking at anything but her face. You find your fingers much more interesting than any part of this conversation, actually. So you pay attention to them, playing on your lap.

“It's nothing”, you answer.

Hannah sighs, if you don't want to talk about it, it means it's bad.

“We don't have to talk about it right now”, she stretches her hand, taking yours and squeezing it. “But you will have to talk about it eventually”

It's your time to sigh now, she's right, you know that, but talking about it makes it real and you don't want it to be real.

“Jeongho broke up with me”, you rip the bandaid all at once.

Hannah gasps, she's speechless. How can this be? She thought he was head over heels for you, so why?

“His company is sending him to Europe and he doesn't want to do long distance”, you feel the tears brimming into your eyes again, voice cracking, “or take me with him”

It's the first time in her life Hannah doesn't know what to say. Your love life is such a mess, worse than hers, so she doesn't have any advice or any comfort to give you.

“Honey, I…”, she tries, but what is she supposed to say? ‘I am sorry?’, that's not it, ‘he is an asshole?’ nothing of the sort.

Looking from outside the situation, Jeongho is being logical, they still are in their honeymoon phase of the relationship, everything is perfect at that time. For most people, problems start to arise after some time. However, when you're in love, you don't want logical outputs, you want what your heart wants.

Hannah is saved by a knock on the door. Han's head pops inside the room and he observes for a moment trying to assess the situation.

“I bought some things you like”, he says, “I'll be going out, so you have the apartment all to yourselves”

He wants you to feel comfortable right now, he doesn't know exactly what happened but you're sad. Jisung knows just letting you enjoy your afternoon with Hannah in the apartment is not going to make things better for whatever is making you feel so down, but he knows you are going to feel livelier after some time with Hannah.

He goes out with Hyunjin, who's buying a present for his mother. It's hot, so if his friend didn't ask very nicely he wouldn't have accepted to go to the mall, since they have to wear hoods and masks. The fact that you're home, crying your eyes out for something he has no clue about, made him want to go out too. It hurts seeing you sad and it's even worse because he can't do anything about it, not when he doesn't know what's happening.

They are looking at bags, maybe he should get you something? You are not really a materialistic person, he's not sure if giving you an expensive present is going to help at all, maybe he should get you that webtoon print you've been talking about, they should definitely have it in the bookstore next door.

When Jisung turns around to tell Hyunjin they should stop at the bookstore, he sees Jeongho. He's looking at bags too, trying to figure out which one he should choose.

Is he giving you a gift too? Maybe he did something and you fought, that's why you were crying so much. Even remembering the way you cried as soon as you woke up makes his heart ache.

Jisung walks to Jeongho, not sure how to initiate a conversation but he feels like he should try and help in some way.

“Hey”, he says, watching Jeongho turn around and look at him.

“Jisung, how are you doing?” He asks, arms crossed in front of chest.

“Fine, are you choosing a gift for y/n?” He asks, awkwardly, “I don't think she likes purple”, he points out observing the bags Jeongho was looking at.

“It's actually for my mother”, he clears his throat, frowning, “didn't y/n tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Jisung asks, confused and Jeongho nods.

“So she didn't”, he sighs, “we broke up”, he struggles to say it.

Jisung's eyes dart directly to Jeongho's face, now he can see the eyebags on his face and how tired he looks.

“Why?” Jisung panics, you shouldn't have to go through another heartbreak.

“I don't think it's something you should know about, if she didn't tell you”, Jeongho shrugs.

“Well, can't you fix it? Whatever it is that is wrong?” He asks, carefully.

Jeongho sighs, he wishes there was something he could do about it, but he's a coward who's too afraid of taking such a big step in the beginning of a relationship.

“I’m afraid I can't”, he says, “take care of her”

Jisung is speechless, he has no idea what to do, so he just watches as Jeongho chooses a gift and walks tiredly out of the store.

Jisung arrives after killing some time outside, he was out for almost the entire day and hopes that you could enjoy a bit of your day with Hannah. He doesn't know if he should bring up his encounter with Jeongho or if he should talk about what your, now ex, boyfriend told him.

He shouldn't mention it, if you didn't tell him about it, it's because you're not ready for you to know and he gets that. Han is not sure about what he's feeling. It hurts his heart to see you in so much pain but he doesn't want to overstep the boundaries you're setting.

So when he enters the house, he sees you and Hannah watching a movie, he greets you both and goes to his room. You clearly cried more since he left and he won't be able to stay in your presence without trying to comfort you.

>><<

Things are difficult for you at the moment. Even though your love for Jeongho never got to its full potential, it's still love. You're mourning what you could have had with him had things been different, you wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep anymore, feeling your chest hurting and remembering it's over.

It all sank in when he didn't contact you anymore, you're sure he's hurting too but you had hoped that you two could find a solution around this cruel puzzle.

“Should we go out?” Hannah asks while you're watching a drama, burying your sorrows in ice cream.

“I'm not really in the mood”, you say. You haven't cried for some time now, you're too tired, maybe your tears finally dried up.

“I know you don't feel like it”, Hannah sighs, looking at your apathetic face, worriedly, “but I think you should have some fresh air, you have been stuck in this apartment for a week now, it's not healthy”

You sigh, she's right, you know she is, but you can't really find the strength to doll up and go out.

“We don't have to go to a party or anything crowded”, she says, seeing the resigned look on your face. “We can just go to a cafe or something, anything”, she pleads.

You nod, sighing in defeat, maybe a walk can really lift your mood a bit.

Hannah jumps out of the sofa, taking the ice cream from your hands. She talks excitedly about what kind of things you two can do but can't really follow what she's saying, your head is still numb.

You walk around for a bit, looking at clothes in the stores nearby, doing just about anything to think of anything but your break up.

It's already night when you two decide to eat something, there's this restaurant that's kinda hidden so there's not many people eating when you arrive. It's not the first time you eat there, it's a nice and cozy place so you come by when you're needing a little bit of peace.

“Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice calling you, making you turn around to find Lia. She's smiling, there's a man accompanying her. “It's been a while”, she says after telling the man to look for a place for them to sit.

“Hey, yeah it does”, you smile politely. Lia can see the huge eyebags you have and the wide eyes your friend has looking at her.

“Are you alright?” She asks, noticing you barely touched your food.

“Yeah”, you lie, “what about you?” You ask, eyeing the guy who's now looking at his phone while waiting for Lia.

“I'm okay”, she smiles shyly, “it's not easy, you know? But I'm trying to move on, meet new people”

You frown, not really understanding what she's talking about.

“I hope we can still be on friendly terms even though Jisung and I are over”, Lia says, regrets immediately when she sees your eyes widen. He didn't tell you. Shit.

“I didn't know you guys were not together anymore”, Hannah is the one to talk, stealing Lia's attention from your shocked face.

“Yeah, hm, it's been a while actually. I thought he would have already told you everything by now”, she says apologetically. “Well, Han Jisung, let's say that now we are even”, she thinks.

“I should probably go!” Lia points out to the man who's staring impatiently. She waves goodbye to you and walks towards him, afraid she'll tell you something more she's not supposed to.

You find yourself in the dark, seated at the sofa, arms crossed in front of your chest. You can't believe you had to hear from someone other than Jisung about his relationship status. You're mad at him, you were making an effort so things could go back to the way they were so why isn't he acting like he wants that too?

Before, he would tell you everything about his romantic endeavors and even though it hurted, you felt special, knowing every little thing about him. Now, you feel like you know nothing, he's spending less time with you and every time you try doing anything just the two of you, he avoids it like you would jump his bones or something if you stay alone with him for more than two hours.

You may have not gotten over him completely, but you're fine now and for years you could behave yourself, so you're not sure why he's acting like that.

You hear the door being open, Han’s voice comes out in a discussion, he's on the phone. He walks in, putting his phone in his pocket while trying to find his way in the dark. He jumps at the sight of you on the sofa, staring at him with a scowl.

“Jesus christ, y/n”, he says, putting his hand above his heart, “what the hell are you doing there in the dark?”

He turns on the light, turning back at you. You're still staring at him in silence.

“Why didn't you tell me you and Lia are not together anymore?” You stand up, waiting for his answer.

“W-what?” His standing falters and he takes a step back. “How did you know?”

“Clearly I didn't find out from my best friend”, you scoff. “Did you think I would try making a move on you if you are single?”

Jisung frowns, how the hell did you get to that conclusion?

“No, I-”

“I'm sure you already figured Jeongho and I broke up”, you point out, “but you rejected me, I'm over that already”

“I can see why you would think that”, Jisung says carefully, “considering the way I acted when you confessed, but it's not that, I can assure you”

“I'm trying to have a normal relationship with you, you know, but you're just not the same. You don't spend time with me anymore, you don't talk to me about what's on your mind, the only thing I can think is that you're scared of me”

“I'm sorry I made you feel that way, I'm trying to act normally too, it's just-” Jisung cuts himself off, not sure what to say. At the same time he doesn't know what to say to make you stop thinking like that, he's not sure things will get any better if he tells you the truth.

“What's it? Just tell me so I can fix it, please I-”

“I'm in love with you”, he blurts out, hand instantly going to his chest and clenching the place above his heart. “I'm so in love with you it hurts”

You stumble back, almost falling. Did you hear it right?

“I don't think I understand”, you say, frowning, trying to make sense of his words.

“I feel terrible, I rejected you and made you suffer just for me to feel like this now?” He scoffs, “I'm sorry I made you think you are the problem again, but you're not, I am. I'm the one who can't stay close to you because I'm afraid I'll do something that will ruin our friendship”

You get up, trying to function properly after this sudden confession. Never, in your wildest dreams did you think there would come a day when Jisung would actually love you in the way you most desperately once wanted. You fantasized about it for years but you never really thought it would happen for real.

“I can't do this right now”, you say to him, seeing his shoulders slump. The sad look in your face is what he most feared. Jisung didn't expect you to still like him, but it would be a lie to say he didn't have any hope of you telling him he still has a chance.

“I don't expect you to like me back”, he says, voice cracking a bit when he tries to say the words he least want to, “I just don't want you to think I'm avoiding you because of you, it's because of me”

You nod slowly, still not fully recovered from the shock. You walk past him, not saying anything anymore, just entering your room and closing the door silently. This was definitely unexpected.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing. Also, you can buy me a coffee.

Taglist(closed):

@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @starsandrqindrops @its-hannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98 @blithevix @astro-doll-the-star @vlctorriaa @captainchrisstan @rag-iii @notastraykid @jisunghannie @applepie-macaroon @stayingdelulu @sundayysunshine @kidrauhlschik @wolfennracha @meloncremesoda @hanschimpmunk @realrintaro @teejisung @maexc @gyustarzzi @ivaneedssleep @chaeryred @daemon-bunny @broken-glowsticks @ch4nniebang @sleepyleeji @seukijeuxq @luvbangchan @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @castielsfrillywhiteknickers @armystay89 @literallyjustwanttoread @jisunghannie @jungkookies1002 @diorggukie @channieandhisgoonsquad @mamabymychem @ladylexis @bmnyy

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[geminislays]

Breakfast for Dinner

THIS AU HAS BEEN EATING ME ALIVE! SO HERE'S THIS!!

1,121 words; Trail's Gone Cold AU; Etho and Gem; approx. 7mo after the expedition.

Knock knock.

Etho rolled over to face his sister, who stood in the doorway to his bedroom. Gem's hair was pulled into a single braid that she'd draped over her shoulder. She twirled the end of it with her fingers, leaning against the door frame.

"Dinner's almost ready- I made your favorite," she said softly. Etho nodded, moving his blanket to the side to make it easier to stand. Immediately, the chill that had taken hold of him in the cave descended on him. Not that it had ever left him- the ice in his bones was just another inescapable fact of life since the expedition. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he caught Gem watching him carefully. Seeing that he'd noticed her, his younger sister gave a somewhat forced-looking smile, turned, and returned to the kitchen.

For a moment, it was as if a harsh breeze had hit him. Gem had been... weird... since he'd come back. After Tango's and Pearl's celebrations of life had come and gone, there had been a little while where things almost felt like they used to. Etho knew Pearl's death had hit Gem particularly hard. She had lost her best friend and her first long-term partner in one fell swoop- and that was without adding Tango to the equation.

He stood, feeling all the blood rushing to his legs. It nearly made his knees buckle, but he gripped the post of his bed frame tightly and managed to support himself while he acclimated to standing. As he rounded the corner of the hall that led to the living and dining rooms, he drew the sides of his hoodie more tightly around his body in a futile attempt to warm himself. From the kitchen, a warm, cheesy smell was wafting towards him. Etho nearly fell from the force with which he slammed his shoulder into the door frame to the kitchen.

"Damn this eye."

Shaking his head, he pressed on, nearly body-slamming Gem, who was coming back in from the dining room.

"I heard a big slam- are you okay?" she asked nervously, eyes scanning Etho's face. He nodded. "Just me being clumsy," he said, putting on his best approximation of a smile. He wondered if it looked as fake as it felt.

Turning his attention back to the wonderful smell in the air, he made his way to the table. He perked up a bit at the sight before him. Breakfast for dinner. He took his usual place at the table. Gem smiled - "this one looks real-" as she sat down what Etho hoped was the last of the food she'd prepared. There was already a huge array of plates- bacon, sausages, cheese-covered eggs, toast cut into triangles, a bowl of oatmeal, several fruits, and now a plate of waffles- and his appetite was far smaller than it had been before the expedition.

Having finished her work in the kitchen- "Thank goodness," Etho thought- Gem took her own usual place at the table, looking vaguely expectantly at her brother. "What's she waiting for?"

He leaned forward and took a piece of toast. At this, she smiled again, reaching for the sausages. "Is she worried I'm not eating?" He hated how worried he made her.

"I shouldn't have left the others. If I'd stayed down there, at least she wouldn't have to fuss over me while grieving."

Etho grabbed the bowl of oatmeal, dipped the corner of his toast into it, and took a small bite. Gem snorted softly, trying to hide her laughter. "Don't laugh at me, Gem. You've known me your whole life, you already know I'm weird." He hadn't seen Gem look so happy- so normal- since before-

Etho stopped himself. "Let her have this."

They both continued eating, Gem only pausing to take sips of orange soda. She hummed quietly, almost imperceptibly, as she ate, wiggling slightly in her chair. Etho only noticed it because he'd known Gem her whole life. He found himself mirroring her smile.

"This is why you had to run. You selfish idiot."

The toast Etho was holding fell from his hand, landing on the table with a crisp shhk. Gem stopped mid-sip.

"You good?" Her voice echoed slightly, reverberating in Etho's head. As quickly as the feeling of being underground again hit him, the ice chill in his veins shocked him back to the present, where his hand currently hung in midair, trembling violently. Stopping for a second then shaking his fingers purposely this time, he looked back up at Gem.

"Yeah, you know my hands don't.. feel properly anymore. Just didn't realize I was losing my grip on it."

She only looked suspicious for half a second, but Etho saw it. "Okay." There was an edge to her voice that he didn't like.

He could feel his hands begin to tremble again. He shoved them into his pockets rubbing them against the lining for warmth instinctively. Logically he knew he wasn't going to feel it if they ever did warm up- his nerve damage from the cold and the sculk was extensive. He looked at Gem, who seemed to be chewing her words before she spoke. He couldn't bear to hear pity in her voice, so he spoke before she could.

"I think we should go back to the cave."

Gem's face went blank with shock. Her large round eyes studied his face, worry creeping across her features. "Sorry? I thought you just said you think we should go back to the cave. Surely, I misheard you."

Etho swallowed. He wasn't sure where that had come from. The last thing Etho wanted was to return to that freezing maw of the earth. But something sung in his chest when he thought about it again.

"I want to find them. Maybe Pearl found Tango and led him towards the entrance before they-" he paused. Gem had a look of utter horror on her face now, but the thought kept rushing out. "They're probably close to the entrance."

Gem pushed her plate away. It clanked loudly, making Etho jump.

"Absolutely not. We are not even going to have this discussion, Etho, you are not going back into that place." Gem crossed her arms, brow furrowed. "Our best friends died down there, and you got so sick you can barely get out of bed. That cave is evil, Etho. The answer is no."

Etho paused. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. "You're right. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. You're right." The cold in his bones made him shake even more. It seemed to seep even deeper into his body, if that were even possible.

Despite his fear of returning, something was calling to him.

[AN: the blue and red text are his Warm and Cold Thoughts (this is how i imagined etho thinking about the cave and the others. the cold thoughts being due in part to the cave and the sculk he's absorbed as well as his survivor's guilt, and the warm thoughts being influenced by his memories from before the expedition and his interactions with gem, who is untouched by the cold.) also shoutout to @wasyago for this incredible au]

[five-bi-five-mind]

Instead

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Angst-ish, Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Words: 9.4k+

Summary: JJ had been in love with you from the very moment she met you. The only problem is, you've been with someone else this whole time. Not only that, but he treats you like shit and you keep running back to him. Is there more to it than she knows or do you truly love him the way she wished you loved her?

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, cheating, and unhealthy relationships. Smut, fingering (r receiving), marking (r receiving), top!JJ, bottom!r, smut with a lot of feelings okay

A/N: I was really into this concept and then I really wasn't... but it's finished and now I can move on to other fics. Hope y'all enjoy it though!

(gif not mine, credit to greencways)

This happened way too often, but JJ was there every single time. She knew the signs, knew what was going on. You didn’t have to say a word and she would immediately understand what was going on with you. It was the look in your eyes, even when you smiled. Those eyes always said the opposite of whatever you tried to tell her. Or even what you tried to tell yourself. 

He was always bad for you, from the moment JJ met him, she knew he wasn’t ever going to be what you deserved. And, boy, was she completely right. She lost count of the amount of times she would catch you bawling your eyes out over something stupid he said or did. You’d often try to appear unbothered, but the minute she would approach you and ask if you were okay, you’d utterly fall apart. And every single time, she would open her arms for you to fall into. She would stroke your hair and wipe your tears and tell you all about how he’s not good enough for you and that you deserve someone who would never treat you nearly as bad as he did. There was always the silent sentence she never said, though. The one that ends with something along the lines of someone like me or I would never treat you that way. But she always held her tongue, feeling selfish everytime she was tempted to say it.

Without fail, whenever there was a fight, your horrible boyfriend would come back with some excuse, some way of apologizing, and you’d rip yourself from her arms and fall right back into his. Not that you even knew that JJ wanted you to stay in her arms, but it still hurt like hell every single time. She tried to tell herself for a while that it hurt so much because she knew he would hurt you so much. You were her closest friend, so of course it was just that she cared deeply for you like a friend should. Right? That lie only lasted so long. A year went by and she was stuck with this horrible crushing feeling in her chest. Finally, JJ couldn’t deny it at all anymore. It was incredibly obvious to everyone except for you, it seemed, that she was completely in love with you. 

So then she went through these phases each time you took him back. It would start with the painful feeling of rejection, even if you were completely unaware that you were rejecting her. Then she would get angry. Go, be in love, JJ would think, I don’t care. But that was a complete lie, because she would remember all the times you’d smile at her. Really smile. A smile she swore you’d never give that man. She saw the two of you together, she saw the forced smile you gave him in the rare moments he’d hold your hand, kiss your cheek, and be a semi-decent partner. It’s what confused her the most about this situation. It also, unfortunately, gave her this false sense of hope that maybe you didn’t feel the way you said you felt. 

But then again, why did you fall apart every time he left? Why did you run back into his arms every time he came back? JJ found herself laying awake in bed at night way too often, just mulling over these questions for hours. She didn’t get her answer, but this time… This time was the last straw. 

She knew what was going on within seconds of seeing your face. It was the way your eyes were just slightly puffy and how you’d let out a small sigh before throwing on a forced smile. To your credit, you were really good at selling that smile, but JJ just knew. You walked around the office, your eyes never really focusing on any one thing. Your mind was obviously elsewhere than whatever task was at hand. The team didn’t seem to pay much mind, too busy closing up a case, while you did your own duties alone in your little corner of the BAU. JJ knew exactly what all of this meant and she felt herself get angry this time. It was a new feeling for her; a break in the routine. She usually was just concerned for you and angry at him, but this time it was just the whole situation. 

So, when she got you alone in her office, the back and forth was a little different. It started out the same, though. You did that avoidance thing. The thing where you gave her a pained smile and swore up and down you were fine, while she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. JJ wasn’t buying it at all. She never did.

“Really,” you sighed, “I don’t want to get into it.” 

“Of course you don’t.” JJ rolled her eyes and your own widened. She had never been even remotely snappy with you. “Because it's probably the same shit it always is. God,” she scoffed, “Why do you let him jerk you around like this?” 

You stood there, your eyes filled with disbelief, and you both just stared. If JJ were being honest, she wasn’t proud of that. She was a little shocked all of it came out of her mouth and even more shocked at how harsh her tone was. 

“You don’t get it.” Your tone wasn’t exactly harsh like JJ’s, but she could tell she struck a nerve. 

“What’s there to get?” JJ threw her hands up, obviously letting her frustration boil over. She got this far, might as well keep pushing. Did JJ think it was a good idea? No, maybe not, but she wanted you to finally get a grip on the reality of this relationship. It was clearly not good for you. “He’s not reliable. He doesn't consider your feelings. He clearly hurts you every single time he goes off and fucks up. And god, he has fucked up so often.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your tone was a warning. “You don’t know everything.” 

“What then?” JJ knew she was pressing. She knew she was pissing you off, but frankly she didn’t care. She couldn’t watch you fall apart again only to go back to the very person who kept mistreating you. She couldn’t handle you choosing him again instead of her. “Jesus, what is his hold on you? Why do you let him treat you like shit? You run back to him every damn time too! It’s— fuck, it’s ridiculous! Why don’t you have more self worth when it comes to him?” 

You definitely did not look pleased right now. Your face was twisted into a tight lipped frown and JJ didn’t think she’s ever seen you look at her like that. Her eyes flicked down to your hands and saw the way they were balled into fists, before looking back up, finally into your eyes. That’s when the anger fled her body and was immediately placed with crushing guilt. Your face told her you were pissed, but your eyes… Always those god damn eyes of yours. They were so expressive and JJ could read them better than anyone. She saw, hidden behind this anger, the pain and, to her confusion, the fear. 

An uncomfortable tension filled the room and finally you took a slow, deep breath. Your eyes closed for a minute and JJ noticed the way your hands squeezed for a second before you relaxed them. When your eyes reopened and met hers, she realized you were trying to calm yourself down. It was like you had that routine down, like it was a factory reset of your own emotions, and she wondered how often you had to do that. Her gut twisted when she realized you needed to because of her. 

“I said I was fine,” you said in the most monotone voice. “So, if you don’t need anything else, I have files I need to get back to.” 

JJ’s jaw clenched as she realized that you, for the first time, were shutting down in front of her— because of her. She gave a short nod and turned her eyes to the floor as you walked right out of her office. 

Fuck, she thought. JJ had fucked up with you. She pushed when you warned her not to and now she has some apologizing to do. Then again, she still was curious about the look in your eyes. What exactly weren’t you telling her? You said she didn’t know everything, so what else was there? Something told JJ whatever it was would just make her even more angry about this whole situation. 

———————————-

This might look bad. That’s what JJ was worried about as she stood in front of your door with a bag full of takeout boxes of your favorite foods. It might look like she was pushing, and she absolutely was. That was her goal anyways. She needed to know whatever it was you weren’t telling her. 

It took a couple of minutes of pacing in front of your door before she finally took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and knocked. Her grip tightened on the bag of food, and she took a few more slow breathes as she waited for you to answer.

Thank god you lived alone. For whatever reason the two of you had never moved in together and as far as she knew, you had no intentions of doing that. That was something at least. That you understood a little that if he treated you so badly when you spent time together, living with him 24/7 would make your situation even worse. 

JJ’s foot tapped on the ground as she waited outside your apartment. She couldn’t hear if you were coming to the door or not, but she knew you were home. When you finally did rip the door open, there was absolutely no surprise in your eyes when you saw that it was her on the other side. Was she really that predictable? JJ fully understood that to everyone else who knew about her feelings for you, it looked like she was some lovesick puppy, following you around until you finally opened your eyes. The fact that you weren’t surprised she was standing at your door stung a little. 

“I came bearing gifts.” JJ held up the bag of food. “And to apologize. Can I come in?”

You didn’t reply, but you didn’t have to. All you did was step out of the way so she could enter and she knew all was forgiven. 

JJ knew your apartment well at this point. There were too many nights she spent just sitting next to you in your living room, sleeping next to you on your bed, taking in everything about your space that felt very you. Of course, all of this time she spent there with you, you were none the wiser about the fact that it made her heart go crazy. How could you know that sharing a bed made her ache to reach out for you? Or know that spending so much time in your personal space felt almost like a domestic bliss JJ so badly wanted to share with you? You had no idea and it tugged at her heart in the most uncomfortable way each time. 

She knew your apartment so well that, as she walked into the kitchen, she didn’t even wait for you to get anything. JJ already started rummaging through your cabinets for plates and your drawers for silverware, knowing exactly where to find them. You just stood back and watched as JJ plated the food, never saying a word. Not a lot of things unsettled JJ, but your silence was always one of them. When you were silent, it meant you were really hurting or stressed. She could imagine, right now you might be feeling both or— she thought back to that look of fear in your eyes— perhaps it meant something worse? Was your mind preoccupied with something scaring you? 

“So…” JJ broke the silence herself, handing you the plate as she spoke. “I stopped by that place you like on 4th street.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the plate and turning to go to your couch. She followed after you. You owned a dining table. Granted, it was small, but plenty of room for you two and all the food JJ over-ordered. But JJ liked to think you chose to sit on the couch and eat there because of how close you two could be. Hopeful thinking again, she realized that, but damn… she had it bad. 

“Listen,” JJ started as she sat down next to you. “I’m sorry about my outburst today.” She paused for a moment, reading your face. Your expression was neutral, but she knew you were listening and receptive. You were always so kind, too kind for your boyfriend, so she wasn’t worried you would be angry for long. “I just hate seeing when you hurt. And I worry that you’re not okay… That something is really bothering you.”

“I’m fine,” you said in a very unconvincing tone as you absentmindedly pushed your food around on the plate. 

“You say that but…” JJ trailed off and didn’t continue that thought when she saw the warning glance you gave her. She dropped it for a moment, but she was going to bring it back up. Just not yet. 

As you both ate, conversation turned to unimportant things. It was obvious that you were both avoiding the pressing subject— your shitty boyfriend. Or maybe ex-boyfriend if JJ was lucky this time. When you two were done JJ took both your plates without waiting for you to get up and made her way to the kitchen. She was entirely too aware of the way your eyes stayed glued to her as she washed the dishes, dried them, and put them back in their rightful place.

You would do that sometimes. Just stare at her when you thought she wasn’t looking or wasn’t aware. But she always knew. JJ was always aware of you, even if you weren’t aware of her. It was like she had finely tuned herself to notice every little thing about you, whether she meant to or not. She just had to be and at first she didn’t understand why. Then, when she realized it was because she was in love with you, it all made sense. It was blatantly obvious that the man you kept running back to wasn’t taking care of you in the slightest, so JJ did it instead. Deep down, she hoped you would notice; hoped you would understand that she would treat you better than he ever would. But it’s been a year of her pining and your constant heartbreak and still things between you and JJ haven’t changed. 

When she was done with everything she sat down next to you again and, to her relief, you scooted closer. Her eyes studied you and she wondered if now was the time to press again. However, this time she was going to be more gentle. 

“Listen,” she started. “I know it’s a touchy subject, but I really want to talk about-”

“Can we just not please?” Your eyes left hers and she watched the way your body shifted uncomfortably on the couch. At least you didn’t scoot away from her. That was one small relief for JJ. 

“I think we need to.” JJ was trying to keep her tone as gentle as possible this time. Patience, she must have patience with you. Clearly, there were some details she was unaware of. You hinted at as much, anyway. “I just don’t understand why this keeps happening. You do know you deserve far better than him right? That you don’t deserve all the pain he puts you through.”

You nodded slowly, your shoulders slumping as your eyes fell to your fidgeting hands. It was absolutely clear in that moment, to JJ, that you did know you deserved better. A spark of irritation filled her chest, but she tried to take a couple of deep breaths. She didn’t know the full story, she was trying to convince herself that maybe what you said next would be a good reason for why you still stayed.

“It’s complicated, JJ,” you breathed a shaky sigh. “I know he treats me like crap, but there’s a reason I stay. He takes care of me…” 

“Are you sure about that?” JJ’s jaw clenched as she thought of all the times he’d fuck up. “Because it looks like he could care less about your feelings or your wellbeing for that matter.”

“No.”  You shook your head hard. “No, not in that way. It’s…” Your eyes closed tightly and you took another deep breath. It was at that moment that something clicked for JJ. It was a face you made every once in a while when you brought your boyfriend around and he said something stupid. It was a look of shame that had washed over you and whatever irritation JJ had felt a moment ago was replaced with a feeling of worry. “It’s that with him around I feel… protected, I guess.”

“Protected?” JJ’s brows furrowed as she tried to understand. You worked at the BAU, so of course you saw some scary stuff. You weren’t one of the members who would go out in the field, sure, which meant you didn’t have all the training of an agent, but you had the basics. She didn’t think even for a second you’d be afraid of anything coming back on you from the job. It wasn’t like your face was even known to anyone involved in any one of the cases. 

“Not– It’s not from the job,” you quickly corrected, reading exactly where JJ’s confusion was coming from. “I had this boyfriend back in undergrad. Things didn’t exactly end the way he wanted it to.”

JJ felt like her stomach was dropping as she watched you fidget even more. She knew, whatever you were about to say would tie everything together for her, but it still made her feel sick. The idea of you being scared of anyone made her feel unimaginably uncomfortable for you. 

“Ever since, he’s just kind of been around,” you shut your eyes tight for a moment before continuing. “I could move and then, somehow, I’d just bump into him. He would always be there when I met someone new. He just– He hovers. He’s never hurt me, but then again I don’t ever want to let my guard down.” 

“So with your boyfriend then…?” She was still trying to put the pieces together of where your current boyfriend fit in. It didn’t quite make sense that you would leave one shitty guy and then find another.

“My boyfriend scares him. It wasn’t always bad between us, not at the very beginning. He was protective and I felt safe. There was this one time when he caught on that we were being followed– He made this big show of how protective he was. Ever since then, I’ve felt a little less like I need to keep looking over my shoulder.” 

JJ was nodding patiently as you explained. Suddenly, she understood just about everything. It wasn’t that you were so heartbroken that he was treating you so badly, that he would cheat on you, that he would disregard your feelings, it was that he provided something important for you. Something that helped you just exist without having to be terrified all the time. It made sense now to JJ. She knew how important it was to feel safe, to feel protected. It broke her heart that you thought you needed to put up with poor treatment just to be safe. Didn’t you know she could protect you so much better than your boyfriend ever could?

“Why are you just telling me this now?” JJ’s voice was gentle, barely a whisper. She felt like if she were to push anymore you’d break in front of her. 

“I don’t know, I was ashamed. Maybe? But I know you’re tired of seeing me go through the same routine with him. He always does this thing where he’ll run off with someone else and I’ll be scared, but it’s not– I’m not scared of losing him, just of being alone. I was so tired of looking over my shoulder, but when he showed up it was better… He always comes back though. Always.” 

It was like you were trying to convince yourself of that fact. The way you gulped right after you said that, your eyes looking anywhere but at JJ. You knew she could read you, that she could tell when you had doubts or were lying. JJ wondered if you really thought he would come back this time? She knew it might be selfish, after all the things you just told her, but she hoped he never would come back. If he made a show of protecting you to your stalker, then she could make a better one if she needed to.

“And if he doesn’t?” JJ knew this question was going to be a hard one for you to answer, but she needed you to see that he wasn’t the answer to your problem.

“He will.” You said that almost as if it were a bad thing. Or maybe JJ was reading into it.

“You don’t need him to,” JJ urged. Okay, so now maybe she was being a bit more selfish, but she also wanted you to know that even if he didn’t come back you’d be safe. JJ would protect you with her life, she thought you understood that already. Even if you didn’t know what feelings she had for you exactly, she thought you knew how important you were to her in general. “You don’t need his protection.”

You let out a bitter chuckle at that and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” you snorted. “JJ, I’m not a field agent like you. It’s not that easy for me to protect myself when I’ve only got the bare basics of self-defense down. By the time I have more skill in that, my ex will have already made an appearance or worse.”

“That’s not what I meant.” JJ was trying to give you the most determined look she could give you and you looked back at her, clearly confused. 

Realization dawned on you as you understood what she was implying. “I can’t expect you to always be there.”

“I would.” She didn’t miss a beat. Her tone was almost pleading. “I’d protect you and– I don’t know, I can teach you to protect yourself in the meantime. Just–” She was getting desperate as she watched the way you shook your head in protest with every word she said. “Please, just let me. Please.” 

“JJ, shh,” you cooed, your arms suddenly coming up to pull her into an embrace. For a moment, JJ felt pathetic. It was her job right now to console you, but here you were holding her and trying to calm her. She didn’t realize how upset she was about this whole situation. She hated that you were allowing yourself to be mistreated just so you could have some sense of protection from another bad relationship of your past. She hated that you felt scared at all, she never wanted you to feel that way. More than anything, she hated that you didn’t think she would protect you, that you even needed your horrible boyfriend in the first place, when she was right here practically screaming choose me, pick me! 

“I’ll be okay,” you murmured, your hand running up and down her back in a way to comfort her. Only, instead it made her heart race. Her arms wrapped around you now, holding you close for a moment. “You don’t need to take this on, okay? I can handle this.”

It wasn’t like that for JJ. It wasn’t a burden for her to take on, it was something she’d do for the rest of her life happily if you let her. It was something that she already was doing, even if you weren’t aware of it. Whether you felt the same as her or not, she would protect you with her life for as long as you would have her around. She had to make you understand that.

So she pulled back a little from the embrace. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” she whispered as her eyes searched yours. You looked back at her with a soft, wistful gaze, but you let her continue. “Let me be here for you instead…” She trailed off and started to lean in. It was now or never, and her eyes closed just as yours widened. But still, you didn’t move, you didn’t pull away, clearly knowing exactly what JJ’s intentions were. Instead, you held perfectly still until finally, for the first time, JJ’s lips met yours.

The kiss was gentle and earth shattering all at the same time. JJ was scared you’d pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, your lips parted for a brief moment, a slow exhale fell from your lips onto hers and she shuttered. She expected you to pull back, but instead you waited and she kissed you again. When she kissed you this time, you instantly melted into her. It was like every nerve ending in JJ had finally woken up. The moment she had waited for so long was happening and it was better than she ever imagined it to be. 

Her hands tightened around your waist and the small sound you let out, as you were pressed closer to her chest, made her heart skip a beat. Your hands were holding onto her for dear life. She could feel a slight tremble from your body, but when she thought she should pull away, you kissed her harder. 

One of JJ’s hands left your waist, only to reach up and cup your cheek. You had never been kissed so lovingly, so deeply in your entire life. JJ, on her part, was trying to pour every ounce of love she’s ever had for you into the way she was kissing you. It was intoxicating for both of you. For a moment, everything melted away. There was no tension between you two, there was no shitty boyfriend that JJ was desperate to get you away from, there were no unspoken feelings that plagued JJ’s mind every waking minute. There was only you and her and this moment. A moment that meant everything to JJ. 

But it was fleeting. Maybe JJ had pushed it a little too much. One second she was brushing her tongue lightly along your bottom lip, a small gasp escaping from you as she did. The next, you were pushing her back and she was blinking at you in confusion over the abrupt change. 

“What are you doing?” You said breathlessly. Your eyes were shining and JJ realized they were rimmed with tears that had yet to fall. JJ was kicking herself. Obviously, she had rushed this way too much. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have–” 

“I don’t need you to do this, JJ,” you interrupted. “You don’t have to. Just because I’m scared of being alone doesn’t mean– you don’t have to make this sacrifice just so I can feel safe.”

“What?” JJ was trying as hard as she could to understand what you meant. Sacrifice what? Her own safety? Surely, that couldn’t be what you meant. JJ’s own job put her safety at risk constantly, so you had to understand that she wasn’t worried about that when it came to being with you. She would be safe and she’d keep you safe, it wasn’t a problem. So what were you talking about?

“I don’t want you to think you have to be with me in order to fix all my problems. That’s not fair to you. Or to us.” You were squeezing your eyes shut so tight as you spoke and JJ realized the hands still pressed to her shoulders were trembling even harder now. 

“I don’t think that,” JJ put her hands over yours, trying to calm you. She was starting to understand now and her heart ached for you yet again. Of course, you’re so used to being treated badly that you didn’t even realize how genuine JJ was trying to be. “Just…” she let go of one of your hands to brush away a tear that had fallen down your cheek, “be with me instead.”

“Oh.” That was all you said. Things were clicking for you now too. The word instead rang through your ears and suddenly it all made sense. “Oh,” you repeated, this time with more shock in your voice. JJ was putting it all out there for you now and nerves were getting the best of her. But what would it look like if she backed out now? If she couldn’t handle the fear of being vulnerable in front of you, how could she show you that she could protect you from the things you feared most? 

“JJ,” your voice was barely above a whisper, “Have you always had feelings for me?”

She swallowed hard. It was a question she knew was coming, but still, that didn’t make this moment any easier. If she was going to put herself out there, then she might as well bare it all. Yet, words escaped her. Her heart pounded in her chest so loud, she could hear its beat ringing through her ears. All she could manage was a nod. 

You sat back a little and it looked like you got the wind kicked out of you. It was very clear to JJ now that you really had absolutely no clue about how she felt. In all fairness, that wasn’t a surprise for JJ. She was probably a little too good at keeping a poker face around you, even if she didn’t mean to. Although, with you, for so long she was terrified of you finding her out and losing you all together. She warred with herself for so long on telling you about her feelings, but the idea of ruining your friendship and losing you forever felt worse than never having you in the way that she wanted. But here it all was, out in the open. 

“For how long?” Your question wasn’t harsh, just genuinely confused. 

“I don’t know,” JJ admitted. “Maybe they’ve always been here. It took me a while to realize it, but then you…” She didn’t need to continue for you to understand. There was always your boyfriend, so JJ thought there was never a good time. It was your turn for your heart to break for her. All the instances where you’d question her actions, her looks that she shot your way, all of it hit you. The realization was shocking in some ways, but made complete sense in others. And, for the first time, you realized just how much it pained her to watch you stay with someone who treated you with very little disregard. You thought back now to all the times you had run back into his arms and all the times she was just forced to watch. The hurt that must’ve caused her, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. 

“I had no idea,” you mumbled. But then again, maybe you did? In the entire time you knew her, she had one relationship. It was a relationship she was already in when the two of you met, and it lasted maybe three or four months after you’d gotten to know each other. When it ended, JJ didn’t say much about why, just that it was for the best. Now you understood; it was because of you. “Or… I think I didn’t. I– I don’t really know either.”

JJ’s eyes stayed on you. She could tell you were going in circles in your own mind, trying to better understand this new development. Guilt was washing over her as she realized she’d put something complicated onto you, on top of all the other complicated factors you had just told her you were juggling. The kiss was a mistake. JJ knew the timing was horrible, but would she take it back? Absolutely not. Not even when you were looking at her in a way that told her she was about to get her heart ripped out. Her whole body tensed as she waited for the rejection she thought was coming, but still you just… sat there and stared. 

You kept opening your mouth for a second, seeming like you had something to say, but then backing out a moment later. JJ knew whatever you were going to say wasn’t going to be easy for either of you, but she also knew you definitely had something you wanted to get out. She didn’t say anything in response to you, she just kept waiting for you to resume talking. Part of her hoped that whatever you said, it would be a good thing. Another part of her, a bigger part, worried that you were struggling so much because you were trying to tell her she made you uncomfortable and you didn’t quite know how to best reject her. Little did you know, it didn’t matter how hard you were going to reject her. JJ was going to stay by your side. Now more than ever, she understood how important that was for you. 

Still, the silence was getting deafening for JJ. You stopped trying to talk and just looked down at your lap. JJ was about to finally break it when you did eventually decide to look back up at her.

“I think,” you began, “Maybe, I need a little time to wrap my head around this.”

JJ nodded hard, her heart thudding in her chest. It wasn’t what she expected you to say. It wasn’t even necessarily a good thing, but it wasn’t a rejection. She’d settle for that. “Of course,” she rapidly replied. “I know, it’s a lot. Today was a lot.” She stood up for a moment, anxiously looking around the room, trying to figure out her next move. “I’ll– I can give you space for the night. I should– Yeah, I should go.”

When your shining eyes looked up at her, it was like JJ’s world stood still. You had such sadness in them, such exhaustion. It was hard for her to see when she knew she caused even the smallest portion of it. You didn’t deserve everything you were dealing with. And to deal with it in silence for so long? It crushed her that you were just telling her all of this now.  

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you stared up at her. Your head nodded the slightest bit, but JJ saw it. “Just for tonight,” you said in the smallest voice. JJ gave you a pained smile, one that she hoped would read to you that she understood completely. 

JJ did as she said and found herself back home in her empty apartment before she could even realize how she managed to get there. The minute she stepped out of your place, all throughout the drive, and even as she laid in bed there was only one thing on her mind. Would things be different if she had known sooner?

She fell asleep with what if scenarios running through her head. Ideas of the two of you being happy somewhere far away from anything you feared. Far away from the shitty boyfriend you thought you had to be stuck with. 

———————————-

JJ wanted to give you all the space she could possibly give you, but it wasn’t that easy. Now that she knew what she knew, it was hard for her to take her eyes off you for even a second. Not that it wasn’t already hard for her to do so without the information she now had, but now there was an extra layer to it. She felt more protective than ever, but she also knew you needed some space from her to process. So, she was constantly internally debating with herself.

You had told her you wanted space just for the night, but then you didn’t really talk to her the next day or the next or even the rest of the week after that. She kept her eye on you still, even if your eyes would never meet hers or you’d shift and squirm when she was near. It was killing her inside. A lot sooner than was probably healthy, a horrible thought popped into JJ’s head that had her spiraling. What if she had messed everything up? What if she ruined her friendship with you because she brought up her feelings?

The kiss kept replaying in JJ’s mind though, and she swore up and down that you kissed her back that night. Yes, you were the one to pull away, but before then, it felt like everything JJ was trying to give, you wanted to reciprocate. Maybe that was just all in JJ’s head, but she really didn’t think so. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t have kissed you at all. Maybe in her mind, everything seemed so different than it actually was. She just kept going on and on spiraling further into this thought process with each passing minute that she hadn’t heard from you.

Finally, after over a week of work, JJ had a day off coming up. Nothing had changed between you and her, you were still very much avoiding her. It was exhausting JJ, how worried she was about your wellbeing, how worried she was about the state of your friendship with her, how  worried in general she was about all of it. JJ didn’t even have a minute to really sit down and take in the fact that it was also hurting her, knowing that she was probably rejected by you and her wishful thinking was just that– wishful thinking. But now she has a day off. A day to process. JJ didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing for her. For one, she got space away from seeing how uncomfortable you were, but then she couldn’t keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. On the other hand, she could actually sit and think about how she was feeling and how to approach the silence you were giving her. However, she knew the minute she really started to think about it her heart would ache. JJ liked to think she was strong, but even she had her limits. 

So how did she spend her day off then? By wallowing in her apartment and nursing her expected heartbreak ahead of time. At one point she did get dressed to go work out, but she never made it out of her apartment. She just stayed in her clean gym clothes and sat back on the couch, the idea of possibly running into you in the gym (even if she knew you’d probably be busy elsewhere) was too much of a risk. 

When evening came and she finished checking her texts, missed calls, emails, and everything else you might message her on, she decided maybe she should get food. Before she even decided what she wanted to get delivered— there was still no way she was leaving her apartment at this point —she heard a knock on her door. Her eyebrows furrowed, there was no package she was expecting, no conversation with anyone else about coming over, nothing that warranted this knock. 

With an exasperated sigh, she hoisted herself off the couch to go see who it was. It hadn’t been that long since the first knock that she heard another, more frantic tapping at her door. She huffed again, frustrated that whoever was on the other end was both impatient and interrupted her night of self loathing. A third knock came and she was getting a little pissed at this point.

Usually, being an agent at the BAU, she has a strict habit of checking the peephole before swinging a door open to an unexpected guest. But JJ hadn’t really been thinking clearly lately, so why start now when she could tell off the irritating person on the other side? Except, when she swung open the door she utterly froze.

She didn’t expect you to show up tonight, not when you had been actively avoiding her for days. Not to mention, you had never really needed to knock on her door. You had a key and both of you had a habit of just waltzing into each other’s places. So, you were definitely her last guess for who was waiting on the other side.

When JJ’s shocked eyes fell on you, you looked back up at her with the look of a deer caught in the headlights. JJ’s first reaction was to ask you why you seemed so scared if you were the one avoiding her for days and then showing up at her doorstep, but she held her tongue.

“Listen, okay here’s the thing…” you started suddenly. “I thought about the night, about what happened. Okay— so I took longer than I said and I’m sorry about that, but I have a good reason. I think, maybe.” You were rambling. JJ’s eyes were still filled with shock but she still had the sense to step out of the way when you pushed yourself into her apartment. “It’s just that,” you kept talking as you let yourself in, “this isn’t just something you do quickly, you know? I was with him for a while, and you and I… I’ve never connected with someone on the level I have with you. So if there was ever an inkling that I might lose our connection, even if it’s the smallest chance—“

“(Y/N), you would never lose me.” JJ had the sense to butt in with that, but your hand came up immediately after to signal her to stop whatever explanation she was ready to give you. 

“Even then… The idea is terrifying,” you looked back at her with pleading eyes. Her heart sank as she began to realize where this conversation might be going. You were still pacing and she so desperately wanted to stop you and tell you not to worry about it. You didn’t have to say them to her tonight. She didn’t know if she could manage to hear the words you might say, but she didn’t dare move from the doorway. 

“This isn’t coming out how I planned.” You pressed your hands to your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “But…” you dropped your hands and gave JJ an intense look. “Then I thought about that night and all the other nights I’ve spent with you and I thought about… that kiss.” You both gulped as you said the word. “It was,” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “It was eye opening. It made me realize something…”

JJ was holding her breath. She really wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but she really was internally begging for you to rip off the bandage. 

You took a deep breath and tried to center yourself for what you wanted to say next. JJ was on edge where she stood, trying not to let you see the way her hands trembled as she waited.

“JJ, I want to be with you.” The words were out there and JJ’s eyes widened the second she took that in.

“What?” It wasn’t that JJ didn’t hear you, it was that she was in a state of mild shock.

“I have feelings for you too. I think I’ve always known how you felt, how I felt even. I just wasn’t sure how to face it…” Your eyes fell to the floor, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you perhaps ever had been. “But then when you left that night it was all so clear to me.” 

JJ took a few steps towards you, her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest. “Then why did you ignore me for days?”

“I wasn’t trying to.” You looked back up at her with apologetic eyes. “I said I wanted to do things right and I do. So, I wanted to make sure I put a permanent end to my relationship. All his stuff needed to be out, I needed to tell him that— You know, that this was really it. Which I did, last night. And then it took me all day to figure out what to say to you.” You let out a soft laugh and shook your head. “I had this whole script planned out. I didn’t use any of it. This has to be the messiest way to tell someone you want to be with them.” 

Finally, JJ’s face shifted from shock to a soft smile. She took another step and then another until she was right in front of you. “I think it still worked out well.” 

You took a step towards her and whispered, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded before reaching for your waist. She leaned in and her lips pressed against yours for the first time since that night. And just like that first time, you melted into it. 

———————————-

When you made up your mind to finally tell her that you wanted to be with her, you had also told yourself that you would do things right, take things slow. However, when your back hit her mattress and you looked down at the foot of the bed to see JJ crawling up your body… Well, that ship had long sailed. Even JJ had a similar thought when you finally admitted that you wanted to be with her, but that idea quickly went out the window the minute she felt your whole body press into hers as she kissed you. Her resolve only broke further the more the two of you pulled at each other’s clothes as you made it to her bedroom.

There was still a part of both of your minds that told you two that maybe things should slow down, but then when you looked at her, pupils blown, a slight blush across your face, that idea left her mind entirely. And when she looked back at you, nothing but adoration in her eyes as her hands ran up and down your half-naked body, any worry about going too fast was erased from yours too. This was JJ after all. It wasn’t like you didn’t know her. You did, you truly knew her. Perhaps deeper than most people can know one another. 

So there you both were. JJ was hovering over your body at this point and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the beautiful tone of her bare stomach as she waited above you in nothing but a sports bra. Without even thinking, your hands made their way to her stomach and your nails, ever so softly, raked down her skin. You watched in awe as JJ shivered and her eyes filled with lust; a look entirely new for you to see. 

JJ cupped your chin and dipped her head down. The way she kissed you, slow and deep, had your chest heaving and your heart racing. Your nails dragged across her stomach until they reached around her back and you pressed her down. Now her barely clothed form was pressed against your matching half naked body. Her hand didn’t leave your chin as her tongue traced around your own. You, for the most part, could only grip at her closer as you continued to kiss her. All of these feelings, of her pressed against you, the way she kissed  and touched you, everything was just overwhelming your senses in the best way. Finally, when you felt JJ’s other hand start to brush down your stomach until she pressed the palm of her hand to your bare thigh, did you start to ground yourself in the feeling of her touch. Her fingers gently traced circles on your inner thigh as she kept kissing you, with each passing second getting closer and closer to where you wanted her most. 

JJ pulled back just a little, her lips still barely ghosting over yours. Her fingers were playing with the edge of your panties and you realized she was trying to get your consent. Your heart swelled for the care she was giving you. It was something that might just be considered the bare minimum, but when JJ did it, it showed just how much she respected and felt for you. All of this felt new to you tonight, not just the fact that you were about to be with JJ for the first time in a way that you had never expected before, but everything else about the encounter. Never had you felt someone cherish you as much as she did and that feeling intensified with each little touch.

You gave her a small nod, your arms moving up her back to wrap around her neck and pull her lips back down to meet yours. As you resumed the kiss, you let a small gasp out against her lips the moment you felt her fingertips dip into your panties and brush against your clit.

Her fingers stroked slowly across it once and then twice and you couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped from you. JJ wanted to take this slow, to soak in every single sound you made and how good you felt, but it wasn’t easy. Part of her wanted to just let go of everything, to let go of the long time she spent bottling things up, but she knew you needed to feel the love and adoration she had for you before she could dive in and finally indulge in what she’s wanted for so long. 

Her fingers started to trace small circles around your clit and her lips left yours to kiss across your jaw. Your eyes were screwed shut again and your hips were moving ever so slightly with the way her fingers were working on your clit. JJ’s eyes were fixated on the way your face looked, flushed and twisted in the pleasure she was giving you. Your lips parted slightly to let out a small whimper and that was when JJ knew she needed to pick up the pace. Her fingers pressed more firmly on your clit and the way they moved against it sped up. Your hips kept moving in time with her hand, trying to get more friction. JJ’s other hand went to your breast, pushing your bra up so that she could have access to your nipples. Her fingers traced around each one as her lips made their way down your neck. Neither of you seemed to notice or care that the way she started nipping and kissing at the skin there was surely going to leave visible marks. 

The feelings she was building up in you was starting to become too much, but you still wanted more. The way she focused on your clit felt amazing, but you wanted to feel her– to really have her. Without hesitation, one of your hands untangled itself from around JJ to reach down and grab her wrist. Both of you were shocked by the bold move, but neither of you minded, when you pushed her hand down further into your panties. JJ knew exactly what you wanted and let her fingers circle your entrance. 

You took a few deep breaths, your hand leaving her wrist to go back to pressing her body closer to yours. JJ’s lips moved down to your chest and the moment you felt her fingers start to push into you, you also felt her take one of your nipples into her mouth.

“Oh!” You did not mean to gasp as loudly as you did, but after that gasp came a moan as you felt JJ’s two fingers sink deeper into you before pulling out almost completely and pushing back in. She wasn’t going fast, but she wasn’t necessarily going slow either. The angle was a little awkward with your lower half still partially clothed, but you desperately wanted her to keep going. Eventually, your legs fell open wider to give her more space and your arms left JJ again only for a moment to frustratingly pull your panties down and kick them off. With those off, and JJ’s fingers back inside you, your head rolled back again. You couldn’t stop the constant, desperate moans and gasps that left your lips. 

JJ, in the meantime, had been busy switching between your breasts, marking up each of them and running her tongue across both nipples. When she started to feel your legs shake, she knew she needed to speed up. Her lips moved back to your neck, kissing over the marks she had left behind previously. Her fingers curled and your nails pressed into her skin. The sting of it didn’t even bother her, she was too lost in this moment with you. You were practically crying out her name with each pump of her fingers inside you. She wasn’t aware of much else other than the way you felt around her fingers. 

“I love you.” Her voice was muffled into your neck, barely above a whisper. “I love you…” she breathed again, her fingers pumping faster inside you while your nails dug harder into her back.

It took a moment for those words to sink in. Words you didn’t expect to hear so soon. Especially not now, not during your first night together like this. But they were out there, whether JJ meant for you to hear or not. 

Your body tensed for just a moment, even if you didn’t mean to. You had hoped JJ wouldn’t notice, but like always she did. Her head pulled back, her fingers slowed to a stop but never pulled out. Immediately when she met your eyes hers filled with panic. Probably because you looked back up at her with shock.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean for–” She started to pull away. “I know this isn’t the best time to say–”

Your hands clenched harder onto her back, trying your best to get her to stop pulling away from you. “I love you too,” you whispered. It wasn’t something you expected to say, but suddenly as you looked up at her, you realized it was the truest feeling you’ve ever had. 

Her eyes searched yours for a moment. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded hard, your hand pressed to the nape of her neck to encourage her to lean down and kiss you once again. As she did, her fingers resumed from the pace that they had left off. 

One of JJ’s hands came down to your thigh, grabbing it to hook across her waist. Her fingers hit just the right spot deep inside you and you broke the kiss to moan out a breathy, “I love you.” JJ’s pace sped up even more and that was all it seemed like you knew how to say. You kept saying it until finally, finally you came hard on her fingers.

JJ slowed her pace, letting you ride out your orgasm until you finally took a deep breath. Your eyes stayed closed and JJ, ever so slowly, pulled her fingers out of you.

“Wow,” you panted. 

“Yeah,” JJ let out a breathless chuckle. “Wow.” Her hands came up to cup your face again and you pressed a kiss to her palm. 

“I do really love you,” you whispered. “I don’t know how it took me this long to see that…”

She shook her head before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re here now and that’s what matters.”

Your arms pulled JJ tighter into you and you knew she was right. Despite how long it took you to put up with the bad treatment and accept the fact that she was there this whole time, you two were here now. Together and in love. This was just the beginning of it, and you knew that not only were you finally able to feel truly safe, but that feeling would never go. As long as you had JJ, you felt no fear.

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[outmakingmoonshine]

The hug was awkward and he didn't even look at her but:

his hand on her waist 😭 then immediately he finds her waist again to guide her to their table

And he keeps it there as he introduces her to the table of his peers as "Chef Sydney", something they'll all know is used as a sign of respect. He's immediately letting them know he respects her in the kitchen and she's gets their world, she's one of them

And it's still there...they've stopped at the table now, he's not guiding her anymore but his hand's still just resting on her waist while he stops to casually wave to a work friend??? He only lets Syd go right before he introduces her to Luca.

Why does this look and feel like a man proudly introducing his gf/wife to all his work friends?!! It's so domestic!

This was an unnecessary amount of time to keep his hand on his "platonic" business partner tbh and it reminds me of the signals men subtly give each other in situations like this to make it clear the person is his, she's with him "like that" so no one else should try anything with her. Very selfish of him tbh but he's also very much in love with her and unable to help himself.

Not to mention, other than Evil Chef, that table/room is probably full of the majority of people he knows, spent time with and has respect for outside of his family, everyone connected to his past etc and he asked, no INSISTED, Sydney came with him to meet them all 😭😭

I think he wanted Syd to come as moral support bc he knew EC would be there. When Syd said everyone will be there Carmy was like "Yeah, everyone 😐" like he was thinking of seeing EC again. The next thing he says is Syd should come. Then she said no and insisted, he even cracked a small chuckle as it became like he was asking her out. And saying what sounds like much more than it seems on the surface:

"Syd, it's forEver."

"Yeah I know."

"So what are you talking about? You should come"

"Okay."

"Good."

"Good."

The way Jeremy delivered that dialogue gives me the same vibes as "Family style? Two tops? Booths?". He's saying one thing but asking her a whole other thing in the unspoken language they share.

[animehideout]

hiii, love your “your mbti, your relationship with jjk man” so i wanted to request infj and enfj if possible? thanks!

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

a/n: Thank you anon for this request . I really hope you enjoy them 😭🫶🏻.

Also thanks to @nozaki547 and @li-m-ii for requesting INFJ, enjoy 💞

INFJ:

Megumi Fushiguro = Boyfriend.

You crave meaningful and deep connection when it's about love. You want a partner that will commit for life. And Megumi is 100% the man that would make it work. Always keeping a keen observant eye on you to make sure you're comfortable all the time. He fell for your mysteriousness, you were hard to read at first so he found you interesting, but he grew to understand you and your needs. If he senses that you're cold he'll bring you a blanket. Craving something? He's going to make/buy it for you. Like any other introvert you need your personal space, so does Megumi. So both of you respect each other's boundaries but with a protective instinct in case you need comfort. You have mutual values and both of you date to marry, so your relationship is for the long run. You expect a lot from others so he always satisfies your expectations and never disappoints. He's your ride or die.

Okkotsu Yuta =Bestfriend

Yuta is an empathetic person and INFJS value people who are compassionate and supportive during highs and lows. Without second thought Yuta would be the perfect bestie for you. He's always ready to engage into a meaningful conversations with you talking about interesting topics concerning life and your personal growth. You have a healthy friendship since both of you avoid conflicts and always work on solving any misunderstandings. You are supportive and selfless so you always make sure to be there for him and push him forward when he feels insecure. Both of you rely on each other in comforting and making each other feel understood, heard and important.

Ryomen Sukuna = Obsessed with you.

Living in Yuji's body Sukuna always observed your interaction with your friend group. He was blown away by the fact thay you crack others' exterior just by observing them. While in contrast, they know little about you. You didn't only understand them by being an observant but also knew the exact appropriate words to say in order to comfort people around you. So he switches with Yuji to manipulate you to open up. He desperately wanted to know you on a deeper level, your strengths, your weaknesses, your likes, your dislikes, your deepest secrets but as an INFJ you've always been keeping your guards up especially around him. And that what pushed Sukuna to thrive to force you open up to him. Developing an obsession and interest in you and you mysteriousness.

Mai Zenin = Antagonist.

You are a supportive and selfless person who is good at comforting others and making them feel worthy. Mai, is the complete opposite she is rude, egocentric and selfish. You help people up and she brings people down. You remain true to yourself but she lacks authenticity and always fakes her personality to try to appear better than others around her. INFJs are very observant so you couldn't help the discomfort you felt around her, you can't stand each other so you simply ignore her existence in order to avoid getting into fights.

ENFJ

Ino Takuma = Boyfriend.

ENFJs are drawn to people with a positive outlook on life who bring joy and optimism. And Ino is definitely the one. He is cheerful person who contributes to a harmonious, happy relationship. Ino is an extremely nice person, supportive and empathetic which is a common trait in you. He treats you with a huge respect and care willing to risk his life for your safety. He tends to be needy emotionally and with you valuing passionate emotional ties, you would be more than perfect together. Giving each other all the love and care needed to recharge. You're each other's number one fan. Daily encouragement words and notes are a must. He is very expressive and open about his feelings with honesty and that makes things easier for both of you especially solving issues before growing into conflicts. Ino and you consider helping people who are in need as an honorable duty which creates a sense of union and shared goals between you both you. His favorite thing to do is gaming together while he holds you close.

Gojo Satoru = Your teacher.

You're his favorite student there's no discussion in that. He likes your intellectual creativity and curiosity and how you always ask interesting questions, that also benefits other. He is a cheerful person who got a lot of energy so he appreciates the way you're like him, hyping up your classmates in class or before a missions giving them a big dose of motivation. For you it's easy to have him as your teacher, you have a flexible relationship not only the classroom but also outside school. You often hang out together and enjoy teasing Megumi. He is very open-minded and as an ENFJ you're often expressive about your issues, so he plays his role well in giving you the right advice that would help you grow. Both of you turn the classroom into a lively space mixing serious studying with the humor. He urges his student to be like you. He puts you under a lot of tests and challenges, you're a precious student for him so he wants to make sure you're strong and independent enough to succeed in both your educational and social life. Rewards you a lot, he often treats you sweets.

Geto Suguru = Ex-boyfriend.

ENFJs are givers in relationships they always make sure their partner is loved and cared for, they prioritize their loved ones in everything and of course they expect the same. But it wasn't the case with Geto. Even though he loved you he didn't show it, and always put his goals and interests first, even before you, completely neglecting your emotional needs. Being open to discussion you expressed your feelings to him, standing by your opinion but he repeated this dismissiveness leading to frustration in your relationship that ended with a breakup.

Itadori Yuji = Partner in crime.

The dynamic duo, your friendship is the source of joy for both of you. You and Yuji have an adventurous spirit willing to explore new things together with full enthusiasm, not caring about the possible risks you may face. Energetic duo, feeding on each other's optimism to keep going. You do a lot of fun outdoor activities together. A lot of people think that you are dating. During tasks you merge your efforts and skills focusing on your shared goal. Your determination is fueled by your empathy towards others. You face challenges with open arms knowing that you've got each other's backs no matter how complicated the situation could be. You always succeed in your tasks looking at each other with the proud smiles creating lasting memories.

Thanks for reading, remember this piece of writing is just for entertainment purposes, also imo, so it's not necessarily accurate ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.