#she must feel insane pressure but at least she never fucks up enough for my parents to care

[mainfaggot]

my older sister and i are always worlds apart in understanding i dont get how we're related

[allwormdiet]

Insinuation 2.7

Finally, some good fucking interpersonal developments

They cheer when she joins the team? That's outrageously cute, stop that right now

Also yeah Taylor you're faking companionship for personal gain of course you feel bad, that's been like 10% of the torment you specifically have been subjected to (I'm not supposed to know about Julia's shit yet but whatever)

Again, very clever ideas made less clever by the ensuing practicalities of the situation. The thing with the spider silk all over again, but now the stakes are higher, and that's probably gonna be a recurring thing

God but it kills me how low Taylor's self-esteem is, poor girl. Emma and the others have done such heinous fucking damage. Someone rizz this girl up or something (am I using "rizz" right), let her feel like she can be attractive

Jesus how touch-starved is Taylor at this point in her life

How often does anyone just go for casual physical closeness with her

Does her dad even hug her that much anymore? Does she let him, or does she bristle at the vulnerability and push him away?

...I wonder if Lisa knows this and is taking it into account.

God, finally, a normal view of the Docks. I cannot begin to describe my relief at the fact that the narration here was like, fine, actually. Thank you for lightening up on them Taylor, please let this last

The Undersiders' hangout sounds about like what I'd expect, although the whole "abandoned factory beneath the loft" part I think escaped me before. Very Lost Boys of them

...I have to imagine it smells at least a little rank in there. Two teenage boys, plus dog smell, and I can't imagine Rachel is super observant of her hygiene, and I don't know enough about Tattletale to say whether she's bad about cleanliness but even if she was that's one against, I dunno, six if you count the dogs. Maybe they invest part of the team budget into Febreze or something

This is... sweet, actually. From both sides. They're making accommodations for Taylor, and Taylor is accepting those accommodations to do them all a favor

Insane that a Ward like, is actively trying to murder someone. What kind of beef does Sophi Shadow Stalker even have with Brian?

I feel some kind of sadness at how young Brian is and how much he acts like an adult. There's almost never a happy story behind kids or teenagers who act that way. It'd be nice if he got more opportunities to relax and act his age, buuuut I don't think this is that kind of story

What a cool power though, honestly. I know the migraines are a motherfucker and I'd probably be a huge baby about that if I had to deal with it, but just shortcutting so much guesswork about like, everything with people and things

Also it's great to see Taylor realize how bad she might have fucked up in trying to infiltrate this team

Heh, yeah, exactly

I wonder what Lisa's reading off of all this. She must have remarkable self-discipline to not be cackling evilly rn

Ruh roh Raggy

Current Thoughts

I love these kiiiiiiiids

It pains me to know they've all had a shit enough time in their lives to all trigger as parahumans, especially being spoiled on Alec's deal as a spawn of Heartbreaker and Lisa's borderline prison sentence under Coil and Brian's struggle with his family. Idk if we ever get more insight into Rachel's path, I'd like to hear it even though I don't think she'd be quick to talk about herself, but I'm gonna guess it's about as sad as the others

I want them all to be happy, and keep being friends without the pressure from Coil to all do crime shit

I know I don't get what I want

so I'll just enjoy the time spent with them best I can

...Anyway I wonder if Taylor's gonna get a mild fear of dogs after this or what

[oh-no-its-bird]

I love the founding father focus on Tobirama bc there's SO MUCH THERE!!!!! LITERALLY SO MUCH!!!

He literally helped to build a brand new, never before seen society! He was at ground 0! Not just that but he continued to shape it through the years, past Madara's betrayal, past Hashirama's death, into the first shinobi war— the Konoha we see in canon is absoloutley his brain child bc of the simple fact that he was the last man in charge standing. He was literally military dictator, ultimate leader, past the point of any of the other founding fathers surviving. I'm sorry but by the time of his death, there was no system in Konoha that passed by that he didn't at minimum give a pass to.

And then obviously Konoha was the first village, and their system was then reflected across MULTIPLE COUNTRIES!! Can u say trend setter? I love it sm, he helped to birth an entirely new political system and form of government and was (at least as far as we are told / implied in text) the last of the big figures of the era to exit the main stage

My favorite canon compliant thing to point to for the lack of recognition despite the fact that these guys should be so painfully recognizable on every level that it's stupid, and I'm so sorry bc I'm m gonna reference 2 different scenes in 2 different fics of mine bc I like how I wrote it here, but :

✨️ Military dictatorship information supression babyyyyy ✨️

Konoha politics are so fascinating, especially if you really try to sit down and think ab all the different clans and agendas and also the fact that of the three most arguably influential clans who founded Konoha (Senju, Uchiha, and arguably the Uzumaki if you take Mito into account and what she must have brought to the table politically) only ONE is still around. AND NOT FOR FUCKING LONG!!

The political balance on that must be INSANE. I can see someone like Danzo, or anyone else who might have a motive to lessen the Uchiha's importance in Konoha culture and history, using the fact that the Senju are no longer around to also put pressure on teaching less and less about the Uchiha's own involvement in Konoha's founding. The fact that the Uchiha mostly involved in the villages founding, Madara, is someone that the Uchiha obviously don't want to fucking talk ab, probably also helps in them slowly being pushed out of the narrative.

I'm sorry I've gotten incredibly off track, this was supposed to be ab Tobirama

Anyways the lack of recognition and historical importance is probably just one of narutos many writing flaws but of u sit down and think about it in terms of a shinobi military dictatorship run on secrets and information suppression, I think there's definitley potential there to make for a fascinating narrative

Your every man may not understand the true importance of Tobirama, nor might even the higher guards in ANBU— but the important men and women in charge, the Hokage and his immediate advisors, do. And what does that tell the audience?

Were also given so little about the founding era, especially in terms of characters. Like we're p much given 4-5 guys (Mito, Hashirama, Tobirama, Izuna, Madara) plus 2 bonus side characters lucky enough to be named (Touka and Hikaku) and I guess Butsama and Tajima if you wanna reach back further but even that's iffy.

And when were given so little, I feel like Tobirama's character, just by virtue of being who he is, comes with just SO many implications not just about him as a man but ab the era he was born into / the people around him / etc. He invented fucking NECROMANCY. You don't just DO THAT. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT. I FEEL LIKE ITS KIND OF GLOSSED OVER ACTUALLY. MY MAN STRAIGHT UP INVENTED ACTUAL NECROMANCY THEN JUST KINDA SHRUGGED AND WENT "WELL BIG BROTHER SAID NOT TO PLAY W THIS ONE SO I GUESS I WONT :/"

OR AT LEAST THATS WHAT WERE FORCED TO ASSUME BC THEY DONT ACTUALLY FUCKING TELL US!!

LIKE EXCUSE ME???? SIR???????????

Also he's hot. I like his design and Im weak to mad scientist coded characters, so I really never stood a chance 👍

i feel neutral at best about tobirama but the way you draw him does strange things to my . what i meant to say was he's very cunty i like it

Don't be shy, feel free to stick around. I promise to feed you cunty Tobirama content to ur hearts content

I aspire to do strange things to everyone's .

[percyjacksonfan3]

One thing that makes me scream about Eddie and Chrissy is how perfectly pining their relationship is to the point where it hurts.

Like I love how Eddie literally WORSHIPS the ground Chrissy walks on and cant deny her anything while she’s over here struggling with lots of insecurities and doing what she wants. Like thats cute enough as it is BUT it feels like people forget how much Chrissy must look up to Eddie.

He’s a god to her bruh. He has so much agency and identity, because of him she finally realises how much she WANTS and how deserving she is of it. And Eddie must be star struck when finding out about it because like? Her????? Chrissy fucking Cunningham looks up to HIM???? Which is why I love your fic so much. The part where Chrissy admits to being envious of him and him being like this girl is not what I thought she’d be like at ALL.

Like I just love the idea of Chrissy, looking up to him while also envying him, stupidly thinking she will never be able to be like him ”One day this boy will be on TV, as some famous rock star or something, and every single girl in Hawkin’s High who made fun of him will wish they’d gotten it with Eddie Munson at least once, including me” ITS SO SAD AND SO GOOD AND the chokehold these two have on me is insane holy shit

Oh catch me writing a whole meta in response to this because I am SO glad someone came to discuss this with me

Okay so yes, thank you, I'm really, really pleased that my reading of this two is hitting home with some of you guys because their entire dynamic obviously also has ME in a chokehold, so much that I've written an 100k+ word fic for them that explores it

Putting the rest under a cut because like I said, this got lengthy

I want to make it so entirely clear that these two? They admire each other SO much. For entirely different reasons.

Eddie looks at Chrissy and sees someone who he thinks is strong. Before he gets to know her maybe he thinks yeah, okay, she hangs out with a mean crowd and dates a total jerk so maybe that makes her the same way. She's never been like that to him personally, or anyone he's seen or heard of (at least in my headcanon, because in my mind Chrissy is genuinely a nice person) but you know, peer pressure isn't a huge problem for nothing and Eddie's all about trying to help people break out of conformity, so he probably looked at her before their meeting in the woods with a skeptical eye because she's meant to embody everything he rebels and fights against in high school.

But when he meets her he quickly realizes that no, Chrissy Cunningham really is a nice person, and what's more is that he likes her. Not the way he's been half crushing on her for years (which he's felt totally guilty and chastised himself for because what a cliche and he's not into self induced pain, which this unrealistic daydream obviously is), but Eddie actually likes the real Chrissy that he gets to know after the woods and her surviving Vecna. And to add to that, the more he learns about her and the different pressures she's under and struggles she has (her ED, her mother, her wallflower father, peer pressures, etc.), Eddie realizes that for Chrissy to go through all of that and remain as kind and brave and optimistically hopeful as she is, takes a kind of strength he's lowkey jealous of. So he looks up to her that way and, as you said, absolutely rallies behind her to be that whole meme where it's like 'kick his ass baby, I got yo flower'. And you just know if any of the Hellfire crew tries to give him grief for suddenly hanging out with the Head Cheerleader, Queen of Hawkins High herself he absolutely does not stand for it because he knows how much she's gone through to remain the wonderful person she is and goes to bat with them for her without a seconds hesitation

And then we have Chrissy. Chrissy who feels boxed in by the life she's conformed to and the expectations she's slowly drowning under, Chrissy who genuinely does love cheer but not the pressure that comes from it, especially from her mother, but also from the other students at school. Chrissy who doesn’t get the best grades, despite trying her hardest, and doesn’t care about going out to drink or party all the time, and who kind of wants to get out of Hawkins, even if it’s just for a bit, just to see what the rest of the world is like because she knows there’s more out there. Chrissy who feels a little guilty for all of those things because she thinks she’s letting people down.

Chrissy Cunningham knows about Eddie Munson, sure, but the same things Eddie assumes about her (one-dimensional, mean, intimidating from her social status), Chrissy assumes about him (one-dimensional, maybe a little mean, very intimidating from what she’s seen of the way he acts to everyone else at school). Yet within seconds of them actually sitting down and talking to each other she realizes that’s not Eddie Munson at all.

And that fear quickly turns to a little bit of awe and envy.

Because you’re absolutely right, nonny, the way I’ve written Chrissy is as somebody who’s so desperate to break out of her routine and finally live, live in a way that she wants instead of others. And because of that she looks at Eddie Munson, who listens to the music he likes even if nobody else has heard of it, and who believes in his passion so much that he’s not afraid to be in a band and play in public for anybody who will listen. This is a boy who is called a freak simply for indulging his own interests and Chrissy learns about who he is and realizes that he’s not mean, he’s not scary, he’s just another kid like her, only Eddie is brave enough to say “screw what everyone else thinks, I am not wasting my life on meaningless crap, I am going to be me.” And in my fic he’s inspiring Chrissy to start finally doing the same.

Chrissy’s entire character (and I’m talking in the show now, not my writing) was an amazing contrast to Eddie’s, and I don’t know if the writers intentionally made them parallel and mirror each other so much or if it was accidental. We barely got to know Chrissy, we have maybe three concrete scenes of character exploration with her, but there was enough hints to show why her and Eddie just fit together so, so well.

They’re opposites in so many ways, mostly on the surface, but in their core they’re the same. They care about people, they're bleeding hearts (don’t tell me Eddie didn’t look at Dustin and Mike and immediately think, oh, yes, these boys need somebody) and they’re both tired of the way things are. There’s so many more but I’m going to shut up now.

I just... the unexplored potential of these two is never NOT going to make me insane. I would pay money just to put Joe and Grace in a room together to get them to discuss these characters and the dynamics and backstory and relationships they incorporated into their acting, just because I find the final product so interesting. The way they played off of each other in that woods scene is a bit of acting that I cannot get over, and it is such amazing fanfic fodder for me as a writer to explore that I guarantee it’s half of the reason these two have taken over my brain for the last month.

Okay, I’ll stop it here, but thank you so much for this ask, as you can probably tell I had tons of fun with it. Character analysis is one of my favourite things so I apologize, nonny, because I know this probably is not the answer you were expecting or looking for, but I hope I didn’t drone on too much.

Thanks so much for reading put your lips close to mine, btw <3 I hope you like the ending I have planned

[michimichim]

in fall & bloom | doyeon

disclaimer: top!fem reader x bottom!doyeon, mention of blood.

your shouts of glee resonate through the bustling streets of the city, pedestrians barely catching glimpse of your zooming figures. the autumn breeze is welcoming against your face, the sunlight warm on your skin as you veer the wheels of your bike onto the next street. your eyes occasionally gaze up at the bleeding tangerine sky through the palm branches without crashing into cars, or worse, have you and your passenger tumbling down the descending street.

“wait!” the latter suddenly yelps into your ear. you press the bike to a stop, both feet coming down to graze the gravel, then to finally land firm on the ground.

“you okay?” you ask when the bike’s stabilized, craning your neck to give doyeon a curious gaze just to find her eyeing the small dip laying a few feet away down the street. there's a pretty blush dusting her cheeks, chestnut hair outlining her forehead and even, darker lashes when her eyes glide back to yours in a form of uncertainty. she's wearing green contacts today, further accentuating her piercing gaze along with the dipping sun highlighting streaks of orange and yellow on her features.

“no way we’re going down that path.” she answers, a tone of incredulity in her voice.

“what?” your brows shoot up as you slightly look back at the road – it is a bit steep, but not dangerously so. you turn back to doyeon. “why not?”

doyeon’s eyes squint back at you, fully glaring, face scrunched – most likely wondering how insane you must truly be. but the endearing and dopey smile you offer back is enough to melt her rigid posture.

“they’ll kill you if i die.” is what she ends up saying instead. the light wind sweeps lightly through her hair, conveying the lulling scent of cotton candy and peach perfume.

you laugh, playfully bumping back into her. “wimp.”

“i’m sorry, is my death a joke to you?” she whispers menacingly into your ear, hooking her index through the belt loops of your jeans.

“hilarious, even.” you tease, tilting your head back to pucker your lips. “kiss.”

“no.” she deadpans, encircling your waist. “first, get me down that road in one piece.” you snort at that, “we can just walk our way down, yeonnie. i was kidding.”

“no, i somehow trust you with this.” she gags out, reluctantly. “why do i trust you?” she mutters right after.

“that’s rich, coming from an arsonist.” you muse, sounding utterly contented, a sharp contradiction to doyeon's allegation.

“shut up,” she starts and you just know she’s about to read you. you furtively feign a roll of your eyes, yet, an infatuated smile stays on the edge of your lips. you'll never tell her, but there’s nothing more attractive than when she gets like this. “–told me you would come and pick me up for a walk, not a bike ride. and unless you have short-term mem–” she stops. “stop staring at my lips.”

you laugh, sheepish, then avert your gaze back to the road ahead. “i'm getting my kiss once i drop you off.”

“if i'm still alive.” she says, hooking her chin on your shoulder.

you whine about her being a pessimist bitch and she lightly, though discreetly presses her lips against your jaw. “kidding.” she singsongs, squeezing your mid.

so you kick off once again. aside from the air being squeezed out of you, you make it down safe and sound. you cycle the both of you through lush paths, to open green fields and watch butterflies fly above, occasionally slowing down the pace of the bike to take it all in. with the scintilla feeling of just the two of you on a bike — blissful with the speed, with the fresh wind in your faces – you’re at home.

doyeon leans the side of her head against your back, letting her eyes take in the beautiful scenery that nature brings. it was nice being able to hold onto you like so, not a care in the world whether she’ll wake up to her name trending on social platforms, or worse, being questioned about her affectionate nature. south korea still has its outdated ideologies, teaching her to enjoy the beauty of whatever it is you’ve started, drawing as much as she can from the light and secretive touches.

unlike her, you no longer seem to focus on the picturesque surroundings. doyeon's hands start having a mind of their own, palms flat on your abdomen, they brush with each movement of your legs on the pedals – and she wastes no time noticing. it's a position she very much enjoys. her eager hands begin to venture areas they’ve never had before. she skims her way up and down your stomach, smiling to herself when she senses you tense. they map their way lower, to the button of your jeans, and without warning, slide up under your sweater. your heart nearly burst from your chest.

the noise that escapes from your throat is a mix of a choke and guttural sound. “christ, doyeon!” you breathe, scandalized. “we’ll fucking crash!”

the frigid feel of her fingers on your skin almost swerves you off the damn bike.

she only laughs, kissing the back of your neck in an apologetic gesture. she resists the urge to tease for the remainder of the ride, only cooing and every so often – she can’t help herself. she’d caress the area over your ribcage, feeling your heart jump beneath the dainty sweater. you can always excuse it as the intensive exercise you have so willingly put yourself through.

you park the bicycle in front of doyeon’s building and lean slightly forward so your elbows rest onto the handlebar. except doyeon doesn’t budge, she stays put, only shifting to press herself further against you.

“you need to keep your hands to yourself, ma’am.” you reproach with a shake of your head, glancing around to make sure no one, especially from her company, is sighting you. “we really could’ve died, and it would’ve been your fault.”

needless to say, that’s no news to you; doyeon has always been quite blasé towards prudence and authority matters. she has a flair for rebellion, not so much that she wants to go against the grain, but she sustains an innate drive towards doing so, and that includes the blatant flirting she would put on at random times.

“but i can’t keep my hands to myself,” she titters and you feel the vibration all throughout your body. you look back at her with narrowed eyes, and she leans her head comfortably against your shoulder, freely gazing at you through long lashes, a smoldering smile on her pouty lips. “plus, i believe i owe you a kiss.”

there's a shout down the street as kids chase after each other, loaded backpacks swinging and feet banging against the gravel.

“i believe you do, yes.” you concur, squeezing her arms that are still wrapped around your mid. “too much people, though.”

and that’s how she ends up dragging you up to her dorms, barely leaving you time to shut the door close behind you – her lips are on yours. thankfully, no one’s home, or at least in the living room because there’s no scientific reason you could come up with to explain why you’re lip locking with one of korea’s favorite girls.

by some miracle, she manages to maneuver you down the hall and into her room, all the while remaining busy giggling and kissing on each other. you throw yourself on her bed, and she ensues, settling down beside you. your feet dangle off the bed as you both lay horizontally – it’s a comical sight that she makes sure to point out.

you're getting progressively mindful of the warmth in your lower belly, the tingling feeling somewhere in your stomach when you engage her into another kiss. the kiss is wet and slow, experimentally tasting the apricot balm coating her plump lips as you leave the sweetest of promises on them. you tentatively stroke her thighs and in turn, her hands resume its trail under your sweater, across your abdomen in a series of affectionate caresses.

you make certain to be slow and considerate as always. after all, this is the farthest you’ve gone. there's only been kissing so far, nothing more, not even touching. you figured if doyeon is ready, she’ll initiate it. which is exactly what’s happening when she leans slightly over you to unbutton your jeans.

“hey,” you whisper against luscious lips, now swollen and tender, while tenderly cradling her jaw into your palm. “no pressure, okay?”

doyeon stills under your earnest look and runs a hand through her locks, pearly teeth toying with her bottom lip. “i know. i just – i need this.” there isn't so much as a slight hint of uncertainty when the reply escapes her lips. more of an emphatic assertion.

you gently push her back down to hover her body, slowly peppering her neck with kisses and tiny licks. doyeon pushes the rear of your head forward, urging for more, however, you take as much time as necessary. your kisses become unbearably slow, irritating her while also lighting up every nerve and muscle within her body. each wet path your tongue leaves further drenches her panties.

you rise back to her mouth, gradually driving her insane with the laid-back, sluggish brush of your tongue on her lips all without fully pressing them. you tease, altering the angle of your head each time she'd drive forward to capture your lips. without much warning, doyeon’s teeth are sinking into your lip, biting harder when you take her sensitive nipple between the spaces of your fingers.

a dainty spill of blood streams down your lip, further startling you when she soothes over the texture with her tongue, gaze darkening as she stares directly into your hooded eyes. “stop fucking with me.” she hisses.

“and since when are you so fucking demanding?” you moan, there’s no denying how turned on and heated the little backtalk makes you. she grinds her hips against yours as your lips crash into hers in a searing fiery kiss. your hands cup her face, both of your tongues rolling, playing and sliding against each other. she’s sucking and biting at your bottom lip, tongue thrusting forward. you close your lips around it and suck with an appreciative moan. god, you could eat her right then.

in the midst, your hands roam over her breasts, fingers pulling her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. she breaks the kiss to throw her head back and gasps as you pinch and pull harder at them.

“oh fuck.” with that, she’s once again snaking her hands up your shirt, feeling over your warm skin and bunching the fabric up for you to take off. you grab the hem and slide it off you while the rest slowly comes off in the middle of feverish kisses and explorative touches.

you take to straddle her hips, admiring the pale skin of her tight abdomen with a rapacious curiosity. you gently fondle her pert breasts into your hands, pondering whether to tear the bra keeping you from making skin-to-skin contact. compelling, but an attempt at it will cost you your head – so you contempt yourself by sneaking them underneath the band, relishing in the pretty little sounds rippling out through her lips.

“you like that, don’t you?” you purr out quietly, rubbing your thumbs over the aching, hard peak against your hand.

“harder.” she mewls, torso arching and pushing just to feel more of that pain mixing in with pleasure.

you lean down, a dark glint in your eyes as you bite and tug at her bra’s fabric, she grows wetter at the sight and feel of your warm breath ghosting on her nipples. she wraps her legs around your mid to cage you in, her hand tangling into your hair when you bite down onto her nub. she's letting out a soft cry when your tongue pokes at the tip before sucking the nub into your mouth, pulling on the flesh and grazing the surface, just enough to leave reddened markings on the flesh.

“ooh–” she gasps, breath labored, gripping tightly into your hair as you give the same treatment to the other pair, rolling the tender flesh between your fingers. you're positioned much lower so you rise slightly back up her body so your cores are touching and snap your hips down against hers. it turns her world upside down; everything tingles from her head to her toes as you repeat the motion over and over again.

you lean up to peck her lips, setting an accommodating pace for you both that has doyeon rising up to meet each grind.

she watches you with unfiltered lust; hands coasting down your face, to your shoulders and arms for a few moments, then cupping around the back of your neck and back down to squeeze your breast. she truly cannot keep her hands off of you. “i want it from behind.” there’s always been something impressive, fervent, in the classic simplicity and directness that is doyeon. it still catches you off guard, agape and sputtering. you stop.

with the majority of your thoughts gone, head clouded with wanton pleasure, you’re unsure of what you exactly heard; you ask again, throat closing around the words. “from behind?”

doyeon's brow quirk in a form of amusement, seeming lucid enough to poke fun at you, but still far from collected. the column of her neck is flushed red, eyes low and glazed – she’s beyond gorgeous. “i don’t have a strap, but your fingers will do,” she shoots you a coy look. “so, fuck me from behind.”

you blink slowly. “alright.” you say, heart clenching in what could only be a mix of amazement, lust, anticipation and anything that can match up a synonym in the dictionary. "roll over for me.”

and she does just that, not before unclasping her bra. it falls down her shapely shoulders, exposing her tiny breasts that your mouth begs to take back in. she gets on all fours, back arching and head craning back to stare you down, challenge in her gaze. “better do your best.”

goose bumps break all over her body as you seize her by the shape of her waist, almost taking her up on the challenge. unfortunately, there was only so much you can leave on doyeon’s body. as much as you want to taint her body red with unique markings, she has an image to maintain so it’ll simply have to wait.

you pull her panties down the gracious curve of her ass, leaving it to slip softly down her thighs then off her legs. your hands caress the silky, supple skin appreciatively, tracing over the dip of her waist to the back of her thighs. you give each of her ass cheeks a hard slap, heart pounding with each moan of hers – you’d think she’s used to this.

"come onnn," she whines, pressing back against you.

"relax." you hum, stroking your hand up and down the long of her back, relishing in the way it freely glides. you gently nudge her knees apart and kneel down behind her. the slight bit of slickness trickling down her lips prompts you to give her a few long strokes of your index, doyeon moans and arches her back further down as the same finger gives hot pleasure within her.

“you’re so pretty.” you compliment, fully admiring all esoteric aspects of her body like a tulip about to bloom – the ones who shimmer in the afternoon and reaches to glow of sunshine- as you start licking between her folds, taking your sweet time to lap every drop of her slick melting down her center. you mouth along her swollen clit through the poetic pleasure rolling into every part of her body, spiking in every nerve ending.

you bury your face farther amid the girl’s puffy folds, licking with passion in your movement, your hands gripping her thighs as you lap away at her hole, occasionally reaching up to flicker across her clit and fling her whole body in a mass of spasm.

your sleeked fingertips gradually begin prodding her entrance, easily sliding between the folds, remaining slow and cautious as to not hurt her. doyeon's nails dig into the comforter, unfamiliar pain lightly shooting up her core and spine.

“you alright?” you ask; there is a tiny waver in your voice, concern and apologetic.

“i-” she sucks air through her teeth, “yeah. keep going.”

reluctant, but complying, you extract your index to replace with your thumb. you hope this helps to start small and later on, prep her to take more. she pants softly, eyes teary and unfocused as her body attempts to choose whether she wants to rock back into your hand, stay rooted at the feeling of being stretched or flee from the unfamiliar pain that’s snaking down her thighs.

you thumb through her opening with consoling words along soothing circles of your hand on her lower back. it diverts her from the pain and creeping pleasure probing inside of her. you extend the process, her gradual whines climbing in octaves when she’d try jerking away from a certain spot being brushed by your inquisitive finger. you'd have to grab her by the elegant curve of the waist, pull her back and keep her in place.

it's just a matter of time before she’s past dripping, pleading and moaning for more. hips inclined back, accentuating the fluid lines of her back; she's crying in nothing but divine ecstasy as you switch back to your index. you draw it out until just the tip is in, then plunge it back in her wet tightness. needless to say, she doesn’t simply see the stars but the cosmos in all its entirety before her eyes.

reiteration of strangled sounds and gasps spill from her lips when you start steadily pumping in and out. she tries stifling them by shoving her head down in the covers, not because she wants to be discreet but rather her embarrassment in hearing those sounds coming from herself – they're melodic, symphonic even, to your ears.

it's something doyeon finds herself loving – the feeling of being handled and taken care of. the knowledge that she can easily be reduced to a messy state if you so desired (as one would expect, you’d have to work for it). doyeon's thighs shake with more thrusts of your fingers reaching deep – and she takes it all, with great difficulty, but it’s a start. her eyes flutter closed as the thick stretch that your fingers amply provide, turn into blissful pleasure to bring her closer to her release.

"how about another?" you ask over the high pitched whines. "can you do that?"

"i don–" you swipe your thumb over her clit and her breath catches in her throat before going back to ball the sheets into her hand. you encourage her with a squeeze on her thigh. "yes, yes."

you add your middle finger, cursing at how tight she is, her spasmic muscles start clenching around you. that's all it takes.

in less than a second, your digits are coated in juices and sleek is sliding down her legs as you easily coax her into a slow, staggering orgasm. she bucks her hips up with one last startled moan and you look on, smug, gently twisting your fingers through the slight burn of her orgasm until she slumps down on her stomach with a silent scream.

[naranciasimp]

hey! could i request a prosciutto x female reader scenario where she comes back from a mission clearly hurt and panicked, and is afraid that her crush, prosciutto, is going to scold her so she tries to hide it and fake being well (while not being very good at it)

lots of fluff in the end pros takes care of her.. feel freed to add some things if you want to

I Could Never Be Mad At You

AN: This is probably the longest fanfic I have ever written. This ended up being more of a La Squadra x Reader than just Prosciutto but I hope you like it! Under the cut for length. 

You opened the door to La Squadra’s hidden base as quietly as you could. You poked your head around the door to make sure no one was there. Luckily it seemed as though everyone was doing their own thing.

You stumbled through the door while holding your side. You do not know how this happened. You were always so good on missions. You took down enemies left and right. Even Risotto was impressed by your skill.

Sadly, today was the day your winning streak came to an end. You didn’t kill your target, he got away. You felt guilty and nervous. This was going to set the whole team back a pay check, Risotto would have to go out of his way to clean up the mess you made and the other members would probably hate you for at least a month. The one thing you were most scared about was Prosciutto scolding you. You had a feeling he was going to extremely be disappointed and that was the last thing you wanted.

The pain you felt was insane. Everything hurt and you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. You just needed to make it to your room. You kept a secret med kit in there for situations like this.

After stumbling around you finally made it to the door of your room. You reached out to open it when someone appeared behind you. It was Pesci.

“Oh Y/N! You’re back. I didn’t even hear you come in,” he said in a happy tone. From where he was standing he couldn’t see the wounds on your body.

You hummed in response hoping that would be enough for him to leave you alone. You always talked to Pesci. Out of all of La Squadra you were by far the nicest to the boy.

Pesci could tell something was wrong when you didn’t face him with a bright smile like you normally do. “Y/N? Are you ok?”

The room began to go black. You could feel yourself losing consciousness. Before you could respond you felt your head fall back with the rest of your body.

Pesci quickly caught you before you hit the ground. He immediately saw the huge amount of blood covering your stomach. Your arms and legs were covered in gashes. Your head was bleeding and you had a black eye.

Pesci screamed at the sight of your unconscious, bloody, body in his hands. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound.

“Don’t…. tell….. Prosci-” Those were your last words before you passed out again. Of course that didn’t matter now. Pesci screamed and when something happened to him Prosciutto was always the first to show up.

Prosciutto ran to you both. “What happened,” he yelled. He saw Pesci holding what looked to be a girls body.

Pesci face was pale and it looked the most frightened Prosciutto had seen. “Fratello! Help!” Pesci moved so his brother could see what happened.

Prosciutto felt his heart stop. He was a man who stayed calm under pressure, the man who always had a plan, one of the best gang members Passione had ever seen. In this type of situation he would just yell at whoever got hurt to step up their game, patch up their wounds and hand them over to Melone so he could handle the rest. He would later come in to apologize for yelling, tell them he was proud of them and all of that other good stuff.

Now was different. Now it was you. His one weakness. The woman who he would do anything for. The one person he cared about the most.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Pesci stay with her!” Prosciutto ran off to grab one of the medical kits.

“It’s gonna be okay Y/N just stay with us,” Pesci said. He was trying to be brave but the worry in his voice was clear. Prosciutto showed up again. He opened the door to your room and threw the med kit inside.

“Come on Pesci grab her feet, we’re going to put her on her bed.” The two boys easily carried you into your room and gently placed you down.

Prosciutto opened the medical kit and ordered Pesci to go tell Melone what happened. Once the younger boy left Prosciutto began to take off your clothes. He hoped one day he would see you undressed but he did not want it to be like this. Your unconscious body still laid on the bed now in just a bra and underwear.

Now that you were undressed Prosciutto could see all of the wounds you received. The most concerning one was on your stomach. You had been stabbed by something and by the looks of it you opened the wound more by moving.

Prosciutto was not the healer of the team by any means. He knew how to fix simple wounds and he was better at it then others but he didn’t even know where to begin with your wound.

Thankfully Melone was here at base today. He ran to the room with more medical supplies. “Move out of the way,” Melone ordered. Prosciutto did what he asked.

He began to get to work on your wound. Your injury brought a lot more attention to yourself then you would’ve liked. Soon enough the whole entire team was inside the room. There was lots of What happened? Is she ok? And many swear words beginning used.

“Everyone shut up! Risotto and Prosciutto stay here, the rest of you get out now,” Melone shouted. He was never one to lose his temper, that was Ghiaccio’s job. The more La Squadra yelled the more nervous Melone got, he did not want shaky hands while trying to keep you alive.

The whole room went silent and Melone continued his work. Everyone he ordered to leave left. They all sat outside your door waiting until they could come back in. Their “whispering” was incredibly loud but they were really trying their best to behave well.

Melone called Risotto over. “Try to see if you can stop all the iron from leaving her body.” The leader did as he was asked and activated his Stand. Prosciutto stood in the corner of the room waiting for commands from Melone, Risotto used his stand until the purple haired man was finally able to sew up the wound. 

After many hours the job was finally completed. Your body was cleaned of dried blood and all the cuts were bandaged up. Risotto slipped off his coat and very gently moved you into it. He had a feeling you would be upset if you woke up and were indecent. Melone cleaned up the room and put away the remaining medical supplies.

Risotto, Melone and Prosciutto left the room. They walked into the hallway and saw all the other men at their feet. They all stood up and faced Melone.

“Y/N is still unconscious. She was badly injured on her mission but we do not know how. Once she wakes we will figure out what happened. For now she just needs to rest. I fixed her up better than any doctor could, I promise you all she’ll be fine.”

The men all let out a sigh in relief. “Can we go see her,” Formaggio asked.

Melone shrugged. “I need to watch over her for the night to make sure nothing bad happens. If you wanted to I suppose you could stay in the room too. But you must be quiet.”

“I’ll spend the night with her too,” Prosciutto said. There was no way he was going to leave you alone in your current state.

“Ok! Does anyone else want to stay with us,” Melone asked.

“I do,” the whole group said in unison. They might be a group of deadly assassins but there was no denying how much they loved and cared for their teammates.

Melone let out a small laugh. “I’m afraid the room is too small for that.” Seems like Melone forget his friends are stubborn as all hell and don’t take no for an answer.

So everyone stuffed themselves into the room. Most of them laid on the floor. Only ones in chairs were Melone, Prosciutto and Risotto. Everyone tried their best to stay awake but it was so late at night and the stress had token a lot out of them. Even the three boys in chairs were beginning to get sleepy. Eventually everyone fell asleep except for Prosciutto. One of the most lovable qualities about Prosciutto is his will power. For a split second he heard a whine that sounded like yours. His eyes snapped open and he jumped out of his chair. He ran to your bedside.

“Y/N? Y/N are you awake,” Prosciutto asked desperately. There was no response. He felt tears prick his eyes. Was he really so in love with you that now he’s hearing your voice in his head?

“Where….. where am I,” you asked in a weak voice. The biggest smile appeared on Prosciutto face. You were alive, you were ok. “Your awake….” he cried loudly.

At the sound of the sudden commotion the whole team woke up. Illuso turned on the lamp next to him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Di Molto she’s ok,” Melone exclaimed. He ran up next to you. The rest of the team sprung up along with him to come see you.

“Don’t scare us like that,” Ghiaccio said. The whole team was very happy to see you awake. They began asking you questions left and right and trying to talk to you.

Prosciutto noticed how confused you looked. “Everyone get out. Y/N needs some time to collect her bearings.”

The whole team grumbled but did as they were told. “Feel better Y/N,” you heard Formaggio yell before he got the door slammed on him.

You tried to sit up but Prosciutto quickly stopped you. “Don’t do that, you could hurt yourself more.”

You hummed and refused to look him in the eyes. This was so embarrassing. You got so hurt you passed out and caused all of your friends to worry about you.

“Y/N, what happened on the mission,” Prosciutto finally asked.

“There was a Stand User and a group of men with him. His Stand nullified all Stand attacks. I just had to fight with my fists. They all had knives...”

Prosciutto sighed. It was no secret that you were the weakest of the group physically. You could handle one person of your size but nothing else. He should’ve been the one to go on that mission. Prosciutto was fairly strong and had perfect aim with his gun, if he was on the mission it would’ve been finished in no time.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know you tried your best. From now on we’ll always send you out with a partner. You can be with me and Pesci, no one will hurt you then. At least those fucking bastards are killed now.”

You gulped. “A-about that….” You felt tears forming in your eyes. “I failed the mission, I couldn’t kill the target.”

Prosciutto eyes went wide. What? How did you fail a mission? That’s never happened and he was sure it never would. “Are you saying that those men who hurt you are still out there alive?”

You sadly nodded. “Prosciutto please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to the team and you.”

He patted your head. “Dolcezza, I’m not mad at you.” He gave you a loving smile and kissed your cheek. “I’ll be right back, stay here.”

The nickname and the kiss left you too flustered to do anything. Your crush just kissed you and acted like it was nothing!

While you flipped out over the kiss Prosciutto was angrily stomping to the main room. He slammed open the door. The boys looked to him and asked what happened.

“Their still alive. Y/N couldn’t finish the mission. The sick assholes who hurt my girl are still out there. Get them.”

The team usually takes their orders from Risotto. Prosciutto has never sent anyone on a mission. Right now though things were different.

Risotto stood up. “I’ll go.” Ghiaccio stood up too. “I’m coming with you. I don’t want any of those mother fuckers to be alive by the end of the night.”

Prosciutto was very happy that those two men were going. He knew they would give the target what they deserved. The blond headed back to your room and the other members waited for their turn to see you.

He saw you crying. “No no, don’t cry Bella. I promise you no one is upset with you.”

You choked on your sobs. “But I heard yelling and doors slamming.”

He grabbed your hand and gently rubbed it. “They were just excited to get their revenge on the people who hurt you, that’s all.”

Prosciutto had never been this gentle with anyone ever. He was treating you like a glass that could be broken at any minute.

You couldn’t fight the blush that was creeping onto your face. Prosciutto noticed it and gave you another kiss. “I’m very proud of you Y/N, as a teammate and as your lover.” For the rest of the night Prosciutto never once left your side. He was going to be there for you no matter what.

[librapjmx]

remember, my love | o1

summary: after a car accident the love of your life loses his memory. you’re deciding to keep shut about your relationship and make him remember your relationship on his own. somehow, you start to regret not telling him in first place

member: hoseok x reader

"Accidents sometimes affect a patient's mind so much that they either lose their memory or remember things very faintly."

You took a deep breath at the words of the doctor while squeezing the hand of Hoseok's mother from behind. She was sitting on the chair and you stood behind her, comforting her in the doctor's consulting room. You bit your lip as your gaze dropped to his father's place who was sitting next to his wife.

"Medically, this state is called retrograde amnesia. Patients like them lead a normal life, but they can't remember their past..." he stopped mid-sentence as he took a deep breath preparing on how to tell you, "That's just what happened to your son."

"Doctor, please just tell us what he has!" Hosoek's mother sobbed in pain.

The doctor bit his lower lip as he took a pen to play along. Indeed, he was slightly nervous and was worried about your reactions but as a doctor, he must tell you even if it's the worst news he can give to you.

"He lost his memory."

The whole world stopped right in front of you and your smile dropped. The smile which was caused by Hoseok's eyes moving and opening while you held his hand tightly. Just as he pecked his eyes open you ran up to the doctor, yelling out of happiness. It's insane how fast one's emotions can change by single words. Your vision became blurry and you stepped back, your back hitting the wall behind you.

"He doesn't remember me? His parents? His sister? Anyone?" You mumbled, your hand reaching out to the chair in front of you. You felt yourself getting dizzy as you supported yourself on the chair from not passing out.

"With great difficulty, we have convinced him that you are his family." He added, trying to make you all feel slightly better.

"Doctor, when will he regain his memory?" His sister Dawon asked, sounding extremely calm which was slightly penetrating. The day you told her about his accident she went crazy and threw all the things around her in anger and sorrow. She was crying her eyeballs out and now, she was calm which made you worry about her.

"It might take days, months or even years or maybe he will never regain his memory at all. He might have to spend a lifetime in this state. Nothing can be said for sure." The doctor was switching gazes between you four.

"We do try to make patients regain their memory by reminding them of past incidents. But you must be careful. Keep in mind that the slightest bit of pressure on his mind can drive him insane! He could suffer a brain hemorrhage. He could even die!" His tone was deadly serious, and he didn't mind telling you this ugly truth to protect his patient.

You closed your eyes as you let the tears fall, making you feel the pain even harder. You felt like it was your fault.

"If possible, take him to a place where his memories lay. His hometown, anywhere. Try to remind him of any old incidents." Suddenly, the doctor laid his eyes on you. Your heart jumped in fear as you realized that you were part of his past. You would be part of his future as well but now that you're not even in his past you must be a part of his present. But, can you tell him that you are his girlfriend? Would it cause damage? You didn't want to cause more harm and damage than he already had to go through.

"When will he be discharged?" You asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"He still has to recover fully but it will take at least two to three days." He nodded. You all left the office with sad expressions written all over your faces. In front of Hoseok's door, his best friend Namjoon waited. Once you made eye contact with Namjoon you smiled faintly. Before Hoseok's mother went in you held her back.

You thought deeply about this and weren't sure if you had to or if it was a decision you made abruptly. No matter what, you wanted him to be healthy and happy again even if his happiness excluded you.

"I don't want to tell him that I'm his girlfriend. Not now." You said, looking at the ground. You felt Namjoon's gaze on you as Hoseok's mother nodded, wanting to see her son as soon as possible. Indeed, you knew that this was the last thing she had to worry about now. No matter how much his parents like you, their son is more precious than anything else in this world. You knew that they are accepting and tolerant of your decision and that they never ask why. As for now, it was important for you to keep them shut about your relationship. The two of them went in and you looked up into the questioning gazes of Dawon and Namjoon.

"What are you doing? How can you not tell him something important like that?" Dawon furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"You two shared five years together, you can't just erase those memories just because he can't remember." Namjoon stood up from the chair on which he was sitting on.

"I won't erase them," you assured him and turned around to the door as you looked through the small window, seeing him trying to smile at his parents, "I don't want to pressure him in spending time with me. For him, a stranger. I don't want him to come to our shared flat and make him sleep next to a person which he has no feelings or connections with." You felt your throat burning as you wanted to cry out all the pain.

"Bullshit!" Dawon exclaimed and grabbed your shoulder to turn you around.

"Hoseok was head over heels for you! He won't forget the love of his life and the girl he wanted to propose to if it weren't for that fucking accident!" Her voice was quiet hoarse as if she was about to break down. Your heart dropped as you remembered the night where his accident happened.

He called you, telling you that he wanted to meet you badly. You were working and happy that your shift was ending in a couple of hours. If it weren't for you to ask him to pick you up, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Perhaps, the two of you would be snuggling up to each other. Now, you knew why he was so nervous when he called you. At the same time, he sounded so happy and joyful. If it weren't for that accident you two would've made plans for your marriage.

He wanted to propose ...

You started to chuckle loudly, in between sobs and cries, not sure how to feel about this whole situation right now. You turned around to the window, your hands reaching out to him but only touching the cold glass of the window. He shouldn't be lying there. You bit your lip as your gaze landed on your hand, examining the ring finger where his proposal ring should be lying on. The ache in your heart was indescribable. You wanted to cry, but no tears left your eyes. Instead, you started smiling widely as you turned around to Namjoon and Dawon.

"I don't know what destiny decided. If we are really meant for each other or not." You looked at Dawon, "Hoseok has lost his memory and since I and his love for me are part of his memory, he will most likely forget about me as well." Biting your lip, you furrowed your eyebrows.

"If our love is meant to be then I'm sure that fate will bring us together again. If I really have a special place in his heart he will remember me. I'm sure he will. But I want him to decide at the end." You clarified, sounding determined about your decision.

"But what if..." Namjoon started but you shut him off by holding out your hand and shaking your head. You knew that if anything goes wrong and he doesn't love you again, you must let him go.

"Just please accept my decision for now. I don't want to pressure him. I just want him to fall in love with me again and not being forced to love me just because we tell him that I'm his girlfriend." The two of them nodded quite frustrated because they didn't want you to suffer from heartbreak if life chooses a different direction for him.

You turned around again and opened the door, going into the nursing room. He heard someone entering the room and investigated your direction. His eyes lit up and you smiled softly at him which he tried to return.

"Hey, Hoseok" Dawon waved her hands at him and took his hands in hers. She grinned widely at him, her eyes were red from crying as she looked at his face.

"Dawon" He breathed out and for a slight moment you thought that he regained his memory, but you remembered the doctor saying that they convinced him of who his family is. She wrapped her fragile arms around his neck as she hugged him wholeheartedly. Slowly, she leaned back and stepped back, letting him get to know you and Namjoon.

"Hoseok, that's Namjoon. Your best friend." Namjoon didn't know what to do and he felt slightly embarrassed about his behavior. After all, it's really his best friend. Nonetheless, Hoseok gave Namjoon a wide smile in return as he nodded. Once his eyes land on you, his smile dropped, and he cleared his throat. Everyone had their gazes on you and waited for your answer, curiously.

"I'm Y/N ..." you mumbled, feeling the tears coming up and your throat burning from holding them back, "We're friends." He just nodded and tried to smile which didn't happen at all. You felt his stare not leaving your direction and you hoped that he tried to remember you. Little did you know that it wasn't happening.

"I, I will leave now. I'll visit you tomorrow again." You reached out your hand for Hoseok to shake it, but he remained confused. When he realized your gesture he hesitantly grabbed it. His warmth was giving you the relaxing feeling which he always gave you. When you came home from work, a little affection and skinship would be enough to calm your senses. Now, you had to start to relax on your own. Now, you had to get used to deal with situations on your own.

"I'll drop you at home," Namjoon said and you nodded, saying your goodbyes to his parents.

You and Namjoon left the hospital quietly, not talking to each other while hopping into his car. He grabbed the steering wheel firmly as he focused on the road. The thought of his best friend losing his memory, was a miserable feeling. He felt powerless and hoped for his best friend to recover as soon as possible. To remember the old times, their childhood and their friendship.

"He will be okay..." you assured him, trying to calm him down since you felt him being tense overall. He chuckled, the sorrow was written in his cracking voice.

"I hope so."

Somehow, you felt a little selfish. Of course, the first thing you want is Hoseok to regain his memory. Nonetheless, it was an awful accident and he was lucky to survive. Him living is more important than him loving you. If he takes his breath, in and out, you'll be able to love him. You'll be able to see him anytime you want to.

"We have to be there for him, no matter what. We must help him regain his memory and remember all the beautiful moments we all shared together. He always made sure to give us hope and now, it's our turn to give him hope in recovering." You said, seeing your shared house with Hoseok from your angle.

"He is so lucky to have you..." Namjoon breathed out after he stopped the car in front of your flat.

"To be honest, I'm lucky to have him." You smiled at Namjoon, thanking him for dropping you home. You got out of the car and waved to him as he drove off.

Taking a deep breath, you turned around, slowly. You started at your door, approaching it while you remembered the time you agreed in moving together. He was so joyous and gleeful that he started looking for a flat. You left it for him to decide because you trusted his taste and eventually you started loving the one he chooses. You opened the door and felt the warmth surrounding your body as soon as you stepped a foot in your home.

Your shared home.

-

"Did you pack all of your belongings?" Namjoon asked through the phone speaker, you could hear the hurry in his voice.

"Yes, I'm waiting for you." You said as he assured you that he would be picking you up in less than 20 minutes.

You weren't going on a holiday trip or on a business trip. You were leaving with Hoseok and his family to his hometown. Gwangju.

A  couple days after his recovery, Hoseok's father decided to leave for  his hometown in hope to have him regain his memory again. Gwangju is  where his childhood lays and where his memories began. You pretty much  knew everything about him but no details about his past life, you didn't  ask him because you didn't think his past was necessary at all since  you loved the present Hoseok.

Of course, you wanted to help him  regain his memories and on the top of that, you couldn't let him go all  alone since you had a mission. The mission, to make him love you again.  Love ...

Your phone vibrated, signaling you to come out to leave.  Namjoon and you drove separately from the Jung family. The distance from  Seoul to Gwangju was far that's why you booked tickets to fly for less  than an hour to his hometown.

"You got everything?" Namjoon asked  while he helped you put the suitcases in the luggage space. You nodded,  smiling widely at him.

"Have you ever been to Gwangju?" Namjoon asked, focusing on the road in front of him.

"Before  his parents moved to Seoul we went there a few times. But the last time  was probably two years ago." You stared at your fingers which were  laying on your lap while you played with them.

"Are you worried?"  He asked, noticing the tension between you two. You and Namjoon were  good friends since you started dating Hoseok. He always supported you  two and helped you to get along with each other. Even when both of your  had arguments and didn't talk to each other, he made sure to bring both  of you together. He always was a helping hand, as a friend for you and  as a brother for Hoseok. That's why you hoped for the two of them to get   used to each other again.

"I'm fine." You lied. You weren't fine at all. Not when Hoseok was suffering and forgetting about his past.

You  got out of the car and took your luggage before you went to the airport  to meet the others at the check-in. From behind you saw Hoseok and his  sister talking to each other. He was laughing at something she said.  Something in your stomach started twirling at the sight of his  expressions, the way he laughed wholeheartedly at her. After the day  where the doctor told you that he is suffering from amnesia, you made  sure to visit him as long as he had to be hospitalized. You tried to  keep the contact, calling him and asking how he was. Just like two  strangers. After they decided to leave Seoul for Gwangju, you left  everything behind and agreed in accompanying them. That was a good way  to spend time with him.

You greeted his parents after Namjoon and  you gave the check-in your luggage and took your boarding pass. Turning  around to Dawon, you wrapped your arms around her and hugged her  tightly.

"I'm glad you will accompany us." She whispered into your ear and leaned back.

You  turned to Hoseok, smiling at him while he gave you a wide smile. He  didn't change at all. He was always so warm and gentle towards other  people.

"Destination: Gwangju. All passengers on Korean Air must  go to the gate. The plane will begin boarding in 10 minutes." The woman  called out from the speakers and all of you gathered around the  departures lounge to find the right gate, written on your boarding pass.

After  getting on the plane you sat down, right next to Namjoon who was on the  side of the window. When you turned your head to look behind you, you  saw Hoseok sitting right behind you, on the other side. He was next to  his sister and stared down at the phone, swiping left and right.  Probably looking at some pictures. Your eyes meet Dawon's who started  mouthing some words. You furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding what  she was referring to. Then she started pointing towards your seat and  hers. You observed the people next to you, signaling yourself that she  was referring to you and wanted to switch seats. You shook your head   hesitantly, but she stood up.

"Y/N, let's switch seats, I have to  talk to Namjoon!" She lied, passing by Hoseok and running up to you. You  shook your head, but she grabbed your arms as she helped you up. Once  you were on your feet, she pushed you to sit down, giving the confused  Namjoon a wide smile.

"The passengers are asked to sit down and  take their seatbelts on. Ready for takeoff!" The speaker said, and you  had no other chance than to sit down next to Hoseok who was just as  confused as Namjoon. You sighed, letting yourself fall into the seat  while putting on your seatbelt.

"As a friend, you're not that happy to be able to sit next to me..." Hoseok chuckled, concentrating on the seatbelt.

"No,  it's not like that. It's just-" you stopped mid-sentence, trying to  think of a good answer. To be honest, you didn't know why you were  afraid of facing him- "It's just that I don't want you to feel  uncomfortable."

"Nah, I'm good." He clarified, staring into your eyes with a huge grin, "We're friends after all."

Friends.

You  nodded, smiling a little at him. You had to get easier next to him,  simply calmer and more comfortable. After all, he still was the man whom  you love. It felt strange to not be able to hold his hands or kiss him  whenever you want.

"Y/N?" Ah, the way he said your name was music to your ears.

"Hm?"

"Can  you tell me something about us?" He plainly asked, not hesitating. As  much as you were afraid of this question, you waited for it to come out.  That day was today. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you turned  around to him.

"Us?" Oh, I could tell you so much about us.

He  nodded. You didn't want to lie to him so much and maybe your real  encounter would help him to remember even the slightest bit. The only  lie he will think of a truth as is you being his "friend".

"We,"  Using the pronoun to specify the two of you and reassuring that there is  something between you to, means a lot to you, "As if it was planned by  fate." You started, thinking back to the time where you left the huge  building in which you were working in.

Walking up to the coffee  shop in which you were always spending your lunch break. You were  working on in a radio show as a radio presenter in 'iwishradio'. It was a  tough week since a huge scandal broke down and with that two actors got  married and you tried everything to get them to your radio show for  more quotas and listeners.

Once you entered the shop, you  were greeted by the part-time worker Yunji who was a high-school senior,  trying to earn money for her college entry. You smiled at her, stopping  behind a man who was ordering his coffee. You looked up at his head  from behind. He seemed to be very tall that's why you stepped aside to  have a look at the sweets they were selling along with the coffee.

"That's 5,000 Won, Mister," Yunji said, pushing the buttons on the cash register and waiting for the man to pay.

When  it took too long you decided to side eye the man who was touching his  chest and went through his jacket. You looked up and stared up at him,  wondering what the issue was. He let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"Where  is my purse-" he grabbed into his pockets, not finding anything- "I'm  sure I've brought it with myself..." His head turned to the side, noticing  that someone stood by. At that moment, his blood rushed up to his  cheeks, shading it in a soft pink as his eyes met your confused ones.

"Ah, excuse me, please go on until I find my purse." He stuttered in a small panicky voice.

You bowed slightly, thanking him for letting you get your coffee.

"Yunji,  I'll take the Americano as always." You said, turning around to the man  who was still struggling to find his purse. You pulled out your own  purse and turned around to Yunji, handing her money.

"Can  you take the Misters coffee on me?" You asked, handing her more money to  pay the coffee of the struggling man. You turned around to the man and  smiled, "It once happened to me as well, so don't worry about it."

He  bowed his head and smiled softly, slightly embarrassed "Thank you.  Please let me pay you back-" you cut him off, reaching for the two  coffee cups and handing him one- "Don't worry about it. It's okay, it's  on me."

He grabbed the coffee, biting his lip as he felt himself getting even more awkward.  

You  looked at your wrist, checking the time, "I have to leave already!  Enjoy your coffee, Mister!" You took off, realizing that you had an  interview ahead which you couldn't attend late. Once you reached the  building you ran up the stairs of the huge building, reaching the  presenters' room. You took a sip of your coffee as you sat down on your  chair, placing the earbuds on your ears. You stared at your director,  waiting for their signal for your start.

He had a wide grin on his face, enjoying the story you told him.

"That's  it?" He asked when you stopped telling him about the rest. You  swallowed hard because after that it wasn't fate who brought you  together. It was the choice of you two over time, but you didn't know  how to tell him that in a non-romantic way.

The next day was a   cold winter day. It wasn't snowing but rather was it outstandingly windy  and the sky was dark and grey as if it was about to rain on the first  day of February. Showing you that winter is slowly disappearing. You  pressed your coat tightly against your chest as you entered the coffee  shop.

"The same?" Yunji as you gave her a slight nod,  rubbing your hands together. Just as you wanted to pay her, someone  reached out to the cashier and handed her the money. A shadow appeared  next to you and you looked to your side. That's when you noticed the man  from yesterday. Your mouth dropped as you wanted to say something.

"It's on me today." He smiled, taking the cup of coffee to hand it to you. You smiled as you gladly accepted his repay.

"Thanks."  Nodding, you went up to an empty chair next to the huge window,  watching the people passing by. Slowly, you started nipping at your  coffee as you examined the sky, getting a feeling that it will rain any  minute soon.

You were brought back to reality once you  heard a chair being pulled back and the man from earlier sitting down in  front of you.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned back, "Excuse me?" You mumbled, not sure of what he wanted from you.

"It's  sad to see people sitting alone, I like to accompany them-" he  clarified, bringing his coffee up to his mouth as he stared out the  window to watch the people.

You opened your mouth but  closed it right away, not knowing what to say. It was a gentle move of  him and talking down to that would be no good, so you let it slide. You  had a cheeky smile plastered on your face as you looked out the window,  not wanting him to see your smile.

"Oh," your eyes widened  in confusion as the first raindrops fell on the window, "Isn't it too  soon to rain already?" you questioned, sighing. How will you be able to  walk in the rain without getting wet?

"Then, I will get   going first," you said, standing up. When you reach the building, you   had to make sure to get plenty of time to dry. You said your goodbye to Yunji as you stood in front of the entry, wondering how you will reach your destiny.

"Why did you make it rain now?" You looked  up at the sky, obviously talking to God in your sorrow. You didn't want  to get wet but still, you had to appear on time.

"Okay.  Close your eyes and run!" You mumbled to yourself. Just as you wanted to  shut your eyes, you saw an umbrella opening in front of you. You winced  since you were startled by the sudden move. Once you looked up, you saw  the man from earlier holding an umbrella above you.

"Where are you heading to? I will accompany you." He said, staring straight into your eyes. He sure was a head taller than you.

"Ah, Mister, you really don't have to do that-" he cut you off.

"You  will be soaked in water if you don't take the chance to reach your  destiny dryly." He had a huge grin on his lips as watched you biting  your lower lip.

"Iwishradio station." You swallowed hard  as you turned your head, embarrassed to look into his eyes since his  face was too close for your pleasure. He nodded as the two of you left  for your workplace.

"Are you working there?" He asked and you nodded.

"I'm a radio presenter of iwishradio." You added and his eyes lit up.

"Oh!  Are you perhaps Y/F/N?" Your name left his lips so casually and you  felt how your heart jumped at his excitement. You nodded.

"I  love your format. The interview, your topics, it's so entertaining and  nice to listen to your decent voice." He started praising your show and  you felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

"Thank you for listening..." you mumbled in a soft voice.

You  reached the building fast and you wondered if you were at your  workplace this fast as well or if it was the illusion of time passing  fast.

"Thank you for your company. In the shop and until here..." you bowed slightly.

He  pulled out his hand before you left, "Hoseok. Jung Hoseok." Your eyes  landed on his hand as you hesitantly reached out for it. His warm hands  surrounded yours, giving you a soft feeling of affection and warmth on  this cold day. His gently squeeze was giving you the feeling that this  wouldn't be your last encounter.

You looked out the window and observed the breathtaking view of Gwangju as the plane was making itself ready to land.

"After  that, we met often in the coffee shop and eventually we became  friends." You brought a cut to your beginning, shorting it down to more  than a half and changing it. Once he will remember you will make sure  that he will remember the genuine rest himself. Until then the rest of  your encounter must be kept a secret. After that greeting and after you  two exchanging names your story began, not as friends but as more.

"You must be a really good friend." You heard Hoseok mumbling. You turned your head to look at him in confusion.

"What?"

"I  mean..." his gaze dropped down on his fingers, "Thank you!" He declared,  looking up into your eyes, "Thank you for coming all the way to my  hometown only to help me to regain my memories. I must've been a lucky  person to have friends like you and Namjoon." He said with a note of  relief, a huge smile plastered on his face. You returned his smile,  holding yourself back from hugging him. Turning your head to the window,  you watched how the plane landed on its gate.

You left the airport after taking your luggage and waiting for a  taxi. Hoseok's family wanted you to stay in their old apartment together  with them. You insisted on renting a good and cheap place, but they  disapproved that's why you and Namjoon followed their taxi. While you  and Dawon would be sharing a room, Namjoon and Hoseok would share a room  together. How you wished to be in Namjoon's position.

Once you  settled down, you started unpacking your items. Dawon decided to take  Hoseok out so she could show him a little around. You cleaned your room  and helped Dawon with her luggage. At that moment, someone knocked  lightly on the door.

"Yes?" You called out, your eyes on the clothes which you were folding and putting into the wardrobe.

You  turned around as you heard the person falling on the mattress which was  lying on the ground. Namjoon took a deep breath as if he was relieved  to finish his room up.

"What's up?" you giggled, concentrating on your clothes.

"I  finished." You saw from the corner of your eye that he turned his body  into your direction while supporting his head with his hand. "So, what's  your plan?" He questioned. You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned  around.

"Plan? What plan?" You asked.

"The 'Make Hoseok Fall In Love With Me Again'-Plan" He pointed out, showing you the question marks with his fingers.

You bit your lip and put the last clothing into the wardrobe before turning around and sitting down in front of him.

"I actually have no idea." You remarked, groaning loudly as you let your back touch the wall behind you.

"You're a genius Y/N." He suggestively eyed you in a mocking way.

"I know right!" You replied with a huge mark of sarcasm. He sighed as he sat up straight to look into your eyes.

"How  about you spend some time with him? Alone. You and him?" It didn't feel  like a statement, more like a question which he wanted to get answered.

"I'm afraid-"you admitted.

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid to face the reality." You whispered, looking blankly into the emptiness.

"What  reality? Y/N, you have to face it, to find the reality!" He encouraged  and of course you knew that he was right. You were in a long and deep  relationship with Hoseok and you're afraid that he wouldn't remember  your past at all. You were afraid of him not loving you, but your  mission was to make him love you again and that's why you had to fight.  Fight for his love.

"You're right Namjoon! I really have to do it." You said and stood up.

"Where are you going?" He asked you as you chuckled.

"I'm hungry, you're coming with me?" He was a little startled but stood up and followed you.

After  finishing your meal, you waited for Hoseok and his sister to arrive  since it was pretty late already. Tomorrow would be your day, you  thought. The doorbell rang, and you ran up to the door, greeting the  siblings who entered the house with a grin plastered on their faces.

"You're late." Hoseok's mother stated, looking at the time.

"We  caught up with someone," Dawon said and sat down next to her mother.  Dawon's mother furrowed her eyebrows as she waited for Dawon to speak.

"Kim  Chaeyeong? Do you remember her?" She asked. Mrs. Jung narrowed her eyes  as she tried to come up with a picture of a face, fitting to the name.  Once she remembered, her eyes lit up.

"Kim Chaeyeong? Hoseok's high school friend?" She said with conviction and Dawon nodded.

"And  guess what?" She looked at Hoseok who approached his mother slowly,  "Hoseok remembered her!" She beamed as his mother stared at Hoseok, eyes  filling with tears. Never in her life would she believe that Hoseok  would start doing progress in such a small amount of time. She was proud  of him.

"I just remembered her as a person in my life, but I  really don't remember what we did in the past or any other memories with  her, to be honest," Hoseok admitted, turning around to look at Namjoon  and you with a smile. You were happy about his small progress but  couldn't help but feel a little unimportant and agonized at his first  memory which was way back when you met him. You never heard of that name  in your life, so you thought that she wasn't important at all. Hoseok  would've told you about her if they were still friends even today.

"Ah  Dawon, you're tiring my son. Let him rest a little, yeah?" She  playfully hit her daughter's shoulder as she grabbed Hoseok's hand,  squeezing it firmly.

"I'm tired, to be honest." He admitted, stretching his arms.

"Let's  sleep then. Tomorrow will be a better day!" Dawon clapped in her hands  as she ran up to you and grabbed your arm to guide you to your room.  Once she entered the room, her jaw dropped down.

"Ah, my  sister-in-law is such a gracious human being. I'm lucky!" She wrapped  her arms around you before she threw herself on the mattress.

The word sister-in-law was making your heart flutter. You still pulled your index-finger in front of your lips to shush her. "Shh, he will hear!" You whispered and laid down yourself. Dawon didn't even change her clothes nor did she remove her make-up. Indeed, she was tired, and you didn't want to make a feel even more tired. You jumped into your pajamas and stared at the ceiling.

"Dawon?" You voiced in a casual tone.

"Hm?" You noticed that she was already half asleep.

"Who is Chaeyeong?" You asked her as you heard her shifting.

"Just  an old high-school friend of Hoseok" She mumbled, her face facing the  pillow, swallowing the words which left her mouth, "Don't worry. They're  just frie-" she couldn't finish her sentence since she fell asleep,  snoring softly. You giggled as you stood up to grab yourself a glass of  water.

"Hoseok?" You asked, a little startled once you entered the kitchen. He was looking out for something in the fridge.

"Y/N? Why are you still awake?" He questioned, closing the fridge.

"I wanted to grab a glass of water." You smiled, going up to the small cupboard to get yourself a cup. "What about you?"

"I,  I was hungry." He scratched his neck a little flustered about his  answer. You chuckled slightly, remembering how he always went up to the  fridge to grab a late-night snack. You nipped on the glass of water.

"Should, should I prepare something for you?" You asked hesitantly but he shook his hands in front of you.

"No, I, I will do it myself-"He started but you cut him off.

"It's not like I prepare food for you the first time at this hour..." You accidentally spluttered.

"Excuse me?" He surely was confused about your words. Your eyes widened as you realized what you've just said.

"I,  I mean we're friends. Of course, I prepared meals for you, as well as  for Namjoon and other friends and family who mean a lot to me." You're such a fool Y/N.

He  chuckled, being really overwhelmed by your decent behavior. You turned  around as you grabbed some ingredients to cook for a single person. He  was quiet, and you made him some ramen which was the fastest and easiest  meal you could prepare, to leave immediately. As if you two were  strangers, you tried to make yourself feel easier and comfortable around  him without getting flustered at all.

"Thank you, Y/N!" He sat down, grabbing the chopsticks.

"Enjoy your meal!" You mumbled, smiling softly at him which he returned.

Before you left, you turned around again. "Hoseok?"

"Hm?"

"Can  you perhaps leave an empty space in your busy schedule-" You looked up  into his eyes –" For me?" Biting your lip, you waited for his answer. He  giggled softly.

"With pleasure." He breathed out, smiling widely at you.

"Thank you!" The huge grin on your face wasn't leaving as you went back into your room, lying down on the mattress.

Everything will be fine ...

The  next morning you woke up to Dawon, throwing her clothes from one side  to the other side of the room. Just as you wanted to sit up straight,  you were thrown by a cloth on your face. Wincing at the sudden darkness,  you sighed as you grabbed the cloth and threw it back to Dawon.

"What are you doing this early?" You rubbed your eyes after you looked at the time which showed 7am.

"The earlier one wakes up, the better the day gets." She pointed out as you stood up.

"Bullshit!  My day was never good when I woke up at 6am for school!" You clarified  and scratched your back, bending down a little. You narrowed your eyes,   trying to get used to the light which surrounded you as you fully   concentrated on the scratch on your back.

"Morning girls!" You   heard Hoseok's voice from behind you, making you jump from his sudden   appearance. You felt the heat rising and your cheeks redden. Normally,   you wouldn't think about it and start being your casual self next to him  but now, you two were only friends who try to build up their   relationship.

"M-Morning!" You greeted him, but he was already  gone. You heard soft laughter from behind you and turned around to Dawon  who was hiding her face from laughing too much.

"What's so funny?" You asked, stepping closer to her.

"Well, you two don't feel like a normal couple-"you cut her off, throwing your hands in the air.

"Well,  excuse me. My boyfriend lost his memory." She shook her head at your  statement and turned around to look for a nice outfit.

"Yah! The  yellow shirt in your hand is mine!" You called out before leaving the  room to take a warm shower and changing into some nice and comfy  clothes.

The breakfast table was surrounded by every family  member, enjoying their meal comfortably. You sat down next to Mrs. Jung  as you started eating. Nobody talked while eating, making the  comfortable enjoyment turn into an awkward atmosphere. Suddenly, the  doorbell rang. Just as you wanted to stand up, Hoseok held out his hand,  stopping you.

"It's probably Chaeyeong. She wanted to hang out with me-" He put the last bit in his mouth before leaving the table.

You  licked your lips as you pressed them together, watching his empty seat.  Your gaze went to Namjoon, noticing the confusion in his expressions.

That's  exactly how all the other days went by. It was either Hoseok spending  time with Chaeyong or Chaeyong with him. He was barely home and forgot  about his promise. Even though you asked him about the empty space, he  promised to spend time with you the next day. On the next day, he was  again busy with his high-school friend. If this was helping him to  regain his memory, then you didn't want to stop him. He was getting  happier and each day he remembered the old times in Gwangju and you  hoped for him to remember the past in Seoul, so you would appear again.  The woman he wanted to propose to.

One day you went into his room and leaned on the doorframe. He was texting on his phone, smiling widely at the screen.

"Hoseok?" You mumbled, approaching him slowly.

He looked up and lifted his eyebrows.

"Can  I take you away tomorrow?" You asked and waited for his answer. Little  did you know that he would cancel. Just as you wanted to turn around, he  chuckled.

"Sure thing!" Your eyes widened.

"Oh, ok!" you exclaimed and turned around.

Finally,  a day where the two of you could spend some time together. It wasn't as  if you two never talked to each other within these days. He was still  coming home, and you shared funny and joyful moments. Watching series  and dramas and even playing games with each other but not just the two  of you. It was always another family member of him who joined in. His  promise was an opportunity to let you two be alone.

You prepared a   picnic-date and told Namjoon to prepare beforehand. He woke up early   and went to the park to create a beautiful atmosphere while you picked   your outfit. Today was a nice weather and a warm day. That's why you   decided to wear a spring dress. Casual but cute and it was Hoseok's   favorite dress on you. A white dress with the purple pattern. He knocked  on your door and you turned around.

He stopped in astonishment,  staring at you as if he was thinking about something. You stood in front  of him, quietly, not trying to break his thoughts or the memories  connected with this dress. He furrowed his eyebrows and had a soft smile  plastered on his face. Just as you wanted to ask him what he thought  about, he shook his head.

"C'mon!" He exclaimed and turned around again.

You'll remember me Hoseok. You'll remember us!

He  took the bicycle and hopped on it. You sat behind him and hesitantly  wrapped your arms around his stomach. Slowly, you let your head lean on  his shoulder as you remembered the times the two of you bicycled  together. Sometimes he was picking you up with his bicycle from work and  the other days you were admiring the view. After telling him the  destination he drove off.

"So Hoseok, I hope you like picnicking!" You exclaimed from behind and heard a soft giggle from his lips.

"I  love that" he chuckled and from behind you saw the set picnic. To be  honest, if it weren't for the help of Namjoon then you wouldn't be able  to do that all.

You hopped off the bicycle and led him to the  small picnic-blanket, opening the casket and pulling out small meals  you've prepared. Actually, you didn't feel like eating at all, but you  just wanted his company. He let out a deep sigh as he let himself fall  on the blanket, lying down as he watched the sky.

"Such a  beautiful sight... at those time I really am thankful to be alive" he  mumbled and smiled as you watched him admiringly. You lied down, your  faces next to each other even though your bodies looked into opposite  directions. Indeed, it was so astonishing and beautiful.

"Look at  these birds, leaving their hometown and moving in a new direction to  start a new life, a new journey at their new place..." you mumbled,  examine the sky as you pointed at the birds which you were referring to.

"And  a new story..." Hoseok added and you turned your head to look at him, a  wide smile plastered on your face. "Like mine." Your smile dropped  faintly as you cleared your throat. His eyes weren't leaving the sky,  "After losing my memory, I am also moving in a new direction. I  sometimes wonder what my past was like. Was it better than what I have  now? Or did I lose something precious?" He chuckled, turning his head to  you, "And then, I laugh it off. What is lost, is not coming back. And  what I have, I don't want to lose."

He was looking deep into your soul and you were hoping that with the last part he meant you.

"Sometimes  the past doesn't return. What's left are our memories. And if there is  lying someone precious in your memories, then I'm sure they'll return to  your life." You assured him, hoping to give him a signal for a memory  in his past which both of you shared.

You two stood in the   position of only staring at each other until the grumbling of his   stomach broke the eye contact. The atmosphere filled with soft giggles   from you two and he stood up straight. He turned around to look at you   as a chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

"I guess it's time to eat."

[timetoppedgamebreaker]

💋

TG: i mean its deffo gettin easier as i get used to it TG: (soz for the long delay on my replies the beasties getting restless x_x) TG: but.... yeah TG: theres plenty i miss like TG: food TG: walkin places TG: ...and just casually swallowin w/o it feelin like im tryna gulp down a fuckin TREE TRUNK TG: (speakin of my mouth feelin a bit dry so... brb while i GULP) TG: TG: TG: TG: aaah... ...fuck TG: what we talkin bout again? TG: right TG: um.... i guess one thing is that a thing i miss is a thing i didnt really have but is a thing that I GUESS im still losing TG: i think most girls (or at least cute girls like me lmao) have like...... put think-time towards their dream first kiss yknow TG: under the stars or on a beach or maybe in a run down place in the rain and its awful BUT the kiss is so good its like a beautiful poetry moment TG: that real good shit that makes me bite my lip TG: well TG: maybe not in my case (sad lmao) TG: but...... yeah TG: i prolly aint gonna get my dream kiss any more TG: </3

...

...

..."SPLLLRRRGHLGRGHLTPHTHTT!" Roxy spluttered after several seconds of just trying to relax her body and enjoy a calm moment. Though of course, the issue with doing that was all the breathing she needed to do to catch up for lost oxygen. Sucking all that air past all that veiny, sticky, globbed-up horsecock was nary an easy activity, and just trying to sputter through all that cum that pooled around her lips left Roxy with cumbubbles up to the size of her fist at every edge of her lips.

The same as ever, that cock had absolutely no give when she tried to vent her frustration by biting down on it. Yet almost as if to punish her for it, the cock gave off a mighty throb that left Roxy clutching at every other inch of her body just to ride out the intensity of her everything being stretched just that little bit further.

A kiss... that'd never happen. Who'd kiss... this?

"Heeeey~"

That voice that chimed out... it sounded so familiar, and yet...

A hand palmed Roxy's overstretched cheek, before drifting down to her chin and, with surprising ease... twisted Roxy around until she was upside down on that cock. Feeling the veins all shift around inside Roxy had her squirming. Or, at least squirming as much as one could when they were jammed upon a massive equine ramrod.

Roxy stared up-- or rather down at the figure lying on the floor beneath her. It was... her? Or, uh... like if Roxy had a brother, and that brother had a child with Rosalina from Mario... but all the same, she greeted Roxy with a smile and a coy little wave using just the tips of her fingers.

"Well... about that perfect kiss~"

And then... the girl was gone. One blink, and Roxy was alone again. Was... Roxy just going insane?

N-No, being insane didn't feel this good... a series of kisses were planted along Roxy's belly, slowly running up past her naval, and over one of her bloated tits. It was enough to make Roxy tighten up with--

Throb.

Roxy's increased pressure on her insides caused the cock to throb, and she felt as her body and the cock within it suddenly smooshed up against the girl's entire face with just a little too much force. Though after a short pause, a giggle rang out that signalled the interloper was about to continue.

And so she did, kissing until Roxy was just about begging with her tongue as she felt the kisses come closer to her lip, only for the girl to hold out on her.

"Mmmmmmngh!!" She grunted, trying her best to look around the cock, but she saw nothing. Though so obsessed was Roxy with this sensation that she failed to notice her whole world was shaking. And moreover... that the flare before her was being tucked downward, and when Roxy finally looked up... it was to that same face, with those bright, beaming eyes.

MMMMMMWAH!

Roxy's eyes widened as lips pressed against hers, a hand on the back of her head. She barely even registered that the other girl must have also been upside down just to make this level of eye contact possible.

"Mmmmmrph!"

Just which girl was making that sound was impossible to say, but suffice to say, the vocalizations upon that cock were almost as loud as the equine groans above it.

And on it went. Hands from one girl reached for the other, handfuls of hair and tits were grabbed or caressed as the other girl pressed on further, grinding back and forth as Roxy felt the horse's 'scar' slip up her midsection. But she didn't care. She didn't care even more as it came sliding out her throat, stretching it worse than ever before, before dipping into the other girl's mouth. The fact that it briefly forced them to part lips was the only thing that really got to Roxy.

"Nnnnrgh... Mmmmngh!"

Roxy clenched up, she could feel her ass stretching wider than ever as she was jammed up against the base of the cock, all that extra bulk forcing her to clench her legs around those melon-sized nuts just so she could ride it out.

And then...

MMMmmmmpop!

Roxy's eyes widened as she recognised that sound, her reverie at this near-perfect kiss ending as she flashed back to that moment so many months ago when that cockflare came popping out of her mouth.

She could scarcely do anything but stare right into the other girl's eyes. For now she too was a passenger upon the S.S. Horsecock.

[zephyoongist]

Jeon Jeongguk was just an acquaintance. The child of a family friend.

That is, until our parents decide to get us engaged.

One night, and a few glasses of champagne too many, Mr. Jeon made a slip of tongue. Something about “telling you two when you’re older” and “but they’ve been getting along so well, haven’t they?” and finally, “we didn’t need to worry about the breaking the news of the engagement.”

Powerless as we were, only at the age of barely 18, we decided we’d go along with it.

If only to part ways somewhere along the line after we’ve got enough recognition. Enough power to go on without the other’s support and without clinging onto our parents’ influence.

Now, at the age of 25, one succeeded the family business and the other flying from one country to another in chase of strengthening her connections.

Yet at the age of 25, we still couldn’t shake off our family’s influence.

“Should we just get married?” Jeongguk suggests, twirling the glass of deep red wine in his hand - he looks absolutely handsome with the first two buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and disheveled hair that telltales a run of fingers over them one too many times before he arrived here.

At our supposed matrimonial home.

Our parents gifted us a penthouse when they found out we were dating. It was for show but this house has become our safe haven. A place for only him and I. A space where we can just be.

“At this point, it doesn’t sound half bad - getting married to you,” I pull on the shawl wrapped around my nightgown adorned body, lifting the glass of whiskey and clinking it with his when he raised it to me, “I’ve given up on the notion of love after my parents screamed divorce for like, the hundredth time.”

“We won’t be like them,” it’s so easy for Jeongguk to proclaim those words.

A surety that we wouldn’t turn out like our progenitors.

“At least, we’re friends,” which is to say we never had such strong feelings for each other in the first place.

Passion breeds love and love leads to hate once all the excitement and fire shimmers down. Our parents’ only known the high life - we’re different, Jeongguk and I, we’ve adamant about hiding our family backgrounds. Choosing to go to public schools and university - of course at the expanse of promising to go together.

“Alright then, let’s get married,” he sets the glass down, its contents barely touched before he pushes himself up, hand outstretched to me.

“Wha-” I’m sure I look like a fool, staring at him with round eyes and slacked jaw but it’s not a face Jeongguk’s never seen. If I were in love with him, I’d be a little more concerned about my appearance.

But I’m not.

And once I recover from that shocking proposal, I take his hand.

By the age of 26, we’re pressured for a child. An heir to the family that will carry on the legacy on his back like we did our whole lives.

To say Jeongguk and I have never consummated our marriage would be a lie. Attraction shouldn’t be equated to romantic feelings. We know that and we fucked knowing that this means nothing more than a way to relief our stresses.

But lately, Jeongguk’s been rather... odd.

I find his hand on my waist or grasping mine even when we’ve stepped out of the crowded hall where the main event was held. Those forehead kisses whenever he comes home and I’m around - aren’t so bad. If at all. He tells me to stay in bed while he makes us breakfast but we end up going out for brunch with empty stomachs and suit cases in the car - the renovation to fix the burned walls will take about 3 months.

We use that as an excuse to drop off the face of the earth and spend it in a private island gifted to us by our parents upon the news of our elopement. 

So to say we didn’t love each other would be a lie. But to say we have romantic feelings for each other would be as ambiguous.

It’s too easy.

Far too effortless to be together compared to the relationships I’ve seen lifted up and burned to ashes.

Our friends and family asks how we keep from ripping our hair out for whatever reason at certain points of our relationship.

We say it’s because we adore each other so much.

Truth is, we’re just not as romantically involved to feel such frustrations.

“Do you want to have sex on the beach?” Jeongguk suggests one fine evening as we’re having steak on the balcony with the curtains swaying with the coming wind.

It’s so sudden - just like our impromptus marriage, I almost choked.

“Wh-what-” and just like that night, I must have looked like a bigger fool to be flustered and embarrassed at his uncannily direct proposition.

I don’t know what’s going on - these days, I get flustered too easily.

Jeongguk shoulder line shifts as he shrugs, my embarrassment causing his cheeks to redden too, “just thought we should try it. It’s okay if you’re not com-”

“I- I wouldn’t mind that,” I say, eyes casted down, cheeks growing hotter when I hear the silence and the ‘o-oh’ a second later, as if he didn’t expect me to agree.

As if he knew me like the back of his hand.

I thought I knew him too.

The next day, accompanied with the breeze of the ocean and feeling of sand on my skin as Jeongguk groans into my shoulder - I thought I’d go insane.

And insane I went, for ever since then, I couldn’t even look at him in the eye without having my heart race and the cheeks heat up. And yet, he keeps coming home with flowers every two weeks until my room smells like spring. He keeps kissing me on the forehead when he hands me the bouquet.

At the age of 27, I throw the bouquet he brought back. It hits his chest and crashes against the ground in between his feet.

“How long has it been going on?!” I don’t know why my heart feels like it’s being crushed into a million pieces.

It’s not as if Jeongguk’s line of work saves him from all the stunningly beautiful women - it’s just that I didn’t care back then.

So why - why did it break me so when I see him with his hand around another woman’s waist as they walk to his car in broad daylight. 

“What do you mean-” his rich brown eyes are clouded with confusion, those pink lips parted without a sound, hands freeze in the air as if he’s trying to reach for me but stops halfway.

Perhaps because he knows his faults.

That night, I climb into bed with tear stained face after crying my eyes out in the bathtub.

But that night, Jeongguk came to me, a knock on the door and a “can I come in?” I didn’t answer but I feel the dip of the bed a second later before familiar, strong arms wrap around me from behind. A warm breath on my shoulder as he mumbles into my skin, “she’s the wife of the CEO whose company we’re negotiating with. She was feeling sick so I helped her to the car. Doesn’t excuse what I did but I called and broke off the deal.”

We fall asleep in each other’s for the first time since that night at the private island.

And at the age of 28, as I watch him play with my cousin’s toddler, I realize that I want a family with him. Not because we’re obligated to continue the bloodline at some point.

But because, perhaps, all this time -

“I may have loved you all along,” I murmur as I share my feelings with him that night, cuddled up in my bed - he’s been coming to sleep with me, his own room now feeling scarce of life as his belongings begin to fill up the spots in my space.

And for the first time since I’ve known Jeon Jeongguk, he hiccups - pressing his hand to his lips as his eyes brim with tears.

“Fuck,” he laughs, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand, “this is so uncool - come on, close your eyes - I’ll tell you when I stop bawling like an idiot.”

“I don’t want to - I’m done running away from the things that I fear would happen if I fall in love,” my hands frame around his face, “I want to face you with my whole heart - I... I want to be your wife, your lover, your support... your everything, Jeongguk as you are mine.”

The waterworks comes in full force, Jeongguk’s hiccupping and sniffling as his eyes bore into mine, my hands are damp from wiping his tears so he wouldn’t rub his eyes red in his fervor.

That night, we fall asleep in each other’s arms, knowing tomorrow will be a different, much brighter day.

x

note. ok so ionno what i did lol but hope it’s enjoyable.

[tlcwrites]

Little Things

Summary:

“Maybe this is cosmic payback for all the shit he’s done in his life. Maybe this is the galaxy reminding him that he doesn't get to fight a war, have unmeasurable blood on his hands, and get to live happily ever after.”

Word Count: 2058

Tags/Warnings: Poe Dameron/Female Reader, SFW, pregnancy, traumatic labor/childbirth experience, preterm labor, Dad!Poe, pre-eclampsia, premature birth, NICU warning, a big fucking pile of angst. 

Author’s Note:

So, @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction​ changed her avatar recently (see below). A normal person would have gone “Aww, what a nice picture of Oscar.” Me being me, went... well, let’s just say the reaction resulted in this 2,000 word angst-fest you’re about to torture yourself with read.

Even though it wasn’t my intention when I started, writing this was pretty cathartic for me. I (evidently) still had some trauma from the preterm labor and birth of my twins that I needed to work through. Which leads me to this:

I cannot emphasize enough, this work deals with preterm labor, premature birth, and traumatic labor/childbirth circumstances. PLEASE do not read if it will be triggering for you. I have been there. I do not want to put you there. Okay?

If you’re still with me, I sincerely apologize for torturing poor Poe like this hope you don’t murder me after you’re done enjoy.

(Continues in the same universe as Worth It.)

When Beka was born, Poe was stunned by the brutality of childbirth. Yeah, childbirth is a miracle and biology is fucking amazing. But it’s also brutal and bloody and terrifying and it’s one of the only times he’s ever seen you cry in the entire time he’s known you, and the two of you have lived through a war together.

He’d never felt as useless as he did then, watching you labor to bring his child into the galaxy. His fierce, strong wife; he’s known you are a badass ever since the very first time he’d met you, when he’d walked into the training facility to see you flip Finn backwards with one strike like it was nothing. But after witnessing you give birth to his child- you’re his warrior queen.

It’s not until Leila’s born that he realizes how easy Beka’s birth actually was in comparison.

You’d gotten very lucky; both your pregnancies had been relatively easy. It’s still several weeks until your due-date with Leila that you start to feel ‘off’, as you describe it to Poe. He’s concerned (“overbearing and overprotective” is how you phrase it), but you ask him to trust you to know your own body. He’s never carried a child, and you have. So he redoubles his efforts to make you as comfortable as possible, even recruiting BB-8 and Beka, in all her three-year-old energy, to help keep an eye on you.

The first sign is the nausea returning. Then the back pain. Then the headaches. By the time your hands and feet start to swell, you’ve settled Beka with Kes and are on your way to the hospital. You grip Poe’s hand tightly. It’s far too soon and you both know it.

Poe hovers anxiously as the medical droid takes your vitals, the doctor explaining what you’ve already suspected. Your blood pressure is skyrocketing, and they have to deliver the baby now or both of you will be at risk. Poe’s face is ashen as they prep you for surgery. You try to smile reassuringly at him, but you’re shaking so hard it’s not convincing.

They make Poe change into scrubs. He feels ridiculous with the bonnet covering his curls. He can tell you’re trying to force your laugh to sound sincere. He has to hold you steady as the droid administers the spinal block. You’re both glad that you at least get to stay awake during the procedure.

It’s barely a few minutes after the doctor starts before Leila is out. Poe hardly gets a glimpse of her before the doctor instructs the nurse droid to get her in the incubator and on breath support immediately. You grip his hand and tell him to go with the baby.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You sure?”

You nod. He knows you want him to pretend he doesn’t see your tears.

He squeezes your hand and then follows the droid out of the room.

--

The doctor in the neonatal intensive care unit explains what each tube and wire is for- feeding, breathing, monitoring her little heart, so many- but Poe is hardly listening. She’s so small.

“It’s really her lungs and her ability to feed that we’re most concerned about,” the doctor is saying. “Currently, she’s not capable of doing either on her own.”

Poe presses a hand against the cover of the incubator. She’s such a little thing. Her body is practically the size of his hand. “How long will it be before she’s okay to come home?” When the doctor doesn’t respond immediately, he glances at her. “Doc?”

She looks supremely uncomfortable. “Mr. Dameron- every child is different, and milestones don’t have specific timetables...“

It takes a moment for the implication to sink in. There are no guarantees here.

Poe has never felt so helpless.

He watches Leila. Tiny, so tiny. Her namesake was tiny too, he reminds himself. And look at all she did.

The doctor is talking again, something about those milestones she’ll need to meet and how they go about helping her reach them, but she might as well be speaking Huttese for all he’s comprehending. It’s okay. He knows you’ll want to hear all of this, too, so he’ll ask them to repeat it once you’re stitched up.

Kriff, you’re still alone in the OR. He thanks the doctor, and with a last look at his tiny warrior princess, he heads back to the surgery wing.

--

When he reaches the hallway that leads to the OR, a burly nurse is waiting in front of the entrance to the operating theater. “Ah, Mr. Dameron. We need you to wait here.”

“What’s happened?” He tries to see around the nurse but he’s still blocking the doors. “Where’s my wife?”

“Mr. Dameron-”

He has to stop himself from shoving past the man. “What is happening and where is my wife?”

The nurse hesitates, and it’s enough.

Something has gone very, very wrong.

“The doctor will be out in a moment, Mr. Dameron, please, if you’ll just-”

Poe does shove past the man then. He doesn’t make it very far, of course, since the nurse is twice his size and quickly grabs him, but he gets close enough to see through the window set into the doors. He has a perfect view of you, still on the operating table. He has a perfect view of the doctor, administering chest compressions. He has a perfect view of the defibrillator droid. He has a perfect view as your body jolts from the current running through it as they try to restart your heart. He has a perfect view of the monitor that still displays an irregular, not-at-all normal heartbeat.

Then the nurse is dragging him away, and someone is screaming, and a second person, maybe a security guard, who knows, is helping pull him down the hallway away from the doors. And he realizes he’s the one screaming, and someone is urging him into a chair, and he misses the chair and drops to his knees, his forehead touching the floor. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and a voice telling him there were complications, that it’s going to be okay, but how can anything be okay because you weren’t moving and his child is fighting for her life and what the flying FUCK could possibly be okay about any of what is happening.

He grips his hair, not feeling the pain on his scalp, not feeling the tiles under his knees, not hearing anything else the nurse says. He can’t hear anything but static. He can’t see anything but you. Unmoving. Then Leila, hooked up to tubes. Two thirds of his world, fighting for their lives in the space of an hour. He vaguely wonders if this is what going insane feels like.

Maybe this is cosmic payback for all the shit he’s done in his life. Maybe this is the galaxy reminding him that he doesn't get to fight a war, have unmeasurable blood on his hands, and get to live happily ever after. Maybe this is what happens to cocky assholes who marry out of their league and who dare to think for half a second that maybe, even after everything, that life might look kindly on them. Who the fuck is he, to think he’d get the love and the family his parents had? What’s that old adage, an eye for an eye? Fuck. FUCK.

He thinks he must have passed out, or maybe he just hopes he did. His cheek is pressed against the floor. He heaves himself back to his knees, scrubbing a hand down his face. It comes away wet.

“Mr. Dameron?”

The doctor stands in the doorway. Poe vaguely recognizes that he’s got blood on his scrubs. Your blood. He wants to throw up.

“Mr. Dameron, your wife. She’s stable.”

Poe forgets how to breathe.

The doctor is helping the nurse lift him off the floor. “She’s stable, sir,” he says again.

His knees aren’t working right, and he sits heavily on the chair someone has thoughtfully shoved behind him. “She- she’s okay?”

The doctor smiles now. “Yes, Mr. Dameron. She’s going to be okay.”

The tears, this time of relief, stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t wipe them away.

--

Several weeks later, Poe leans against the doorway of your bedroom. You’re in the bed, both of your girls sprawled out with you, Leila on your chest and Beka curled up under your arm. All three of you are asleep. He can’t stop beaming at you all.

His pop calls a soft ‘good night’ from down the hall, and Poe answers with a nod. Kes had been the lifeline Poe needed as you and Leila both recovered from her birth, already so many weeks ago it feels both like a lifetime and like yesterday. He can’t think about how close he came to losing both of you. Maybe someday. He’s sure you and he will both have some things to work through. But for right now, enjoying his family is the only thing on his agenda.

He had come to take Beka back to her own bed, but snuggles with his family sound like a better plan. His smile widens as Beka yawns one of those precious toddler yawns. Gently, he slides onto the bed next to you, carefully shifting the elder Dameron daughter off of your arm, smoothing a hand over her tousled curls. She snuggles into his chest as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Love you, sweetheart.”

She sighs contentedly as she burrows further into him. “‘luff you, Daddy.”

You rouse, blinking languidly at him. It’s adorable and stars, he’s never taking anything as mundane as your yawns for granted again. “What time is it?”

“Late.” He props his head on one hand, gently stroking the other down Leila’s still-impossibly small cheek as he smiles at you. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.” You return his smile drowsily. “You look happy.”

His chuckle is soft. “Happy’s one word for it.” He moves his hand from Leila to your hair, twisting a strand around his finger. “Feelin’ like the luckiest asshole in the galaxy is another.”

“Language,” you admonish without any real venom, leaning into his caress.

On your chest, Leila whimpers. Ten weeks ago, when he first (finally) held her, Poe had struggled to believe the doctor that there would come a time when she’d breathe on her own, let alone have a set of pipes that could- and would- send BB-8 racing for cover. But she does. His little miracle, amazing, warrior princess is healthy, whole, and, based on how she’s rooting around your chest, very hungry.

As you drowsily help her latch to your breast, Poe watches, beaming as Leila starts to nurse. Witnessing you feed your children will always rank in the top five of the most intimate moments you’ve shared together.

Almost as if you feel his gaze, you glance up, smiling sleepily at him. “Credit for your thoughts.”

He shakes his head slightly, a grey-peppered curl falling errantly across his forehead. “Just still in awe.” He glances down at Beka (snoring slightly, just like her daddy), his grin widening as he looks back to you. “In awe and so, so in love.”

You reach out and brush his curls back. “Love you too, handsome.”

If almost losing you and Leila taught him anything, it’s to cherish each and every caress, kiss, smile, and toddler yawn. After all, he reasons, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm, it’s the little things that make up a life. Right? The big moments are wonderful, sure. But life is lived in the details. They’re not glamorous or noteworthy. How many times has he kissed your hand just like this over the course of your relationship, and thought nothing of it?

No more living without intention. Not for him.

Beka mumbles in her sleep. He pulls her closer as you yawn again, curling into his other side as Leila continues to feed. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and leans back against the headboard with a contented sigh.  

The birth of a child is momentous. But birth simply marks the start of a life. And the life to be lived- he looks at his life, gathered here, in his arms, and smiles- that’s where it’s at.

[spicysoftsweet]

Chapter 11

Masterlist

The days following the funeral had been extremely lonely for Kaksi. While she knew she wasn’t the only one who was suffering from losing Baji, she felt like she shouldn’t bother anyone, attempting to overcome her own grief by herself. Eventually, she decided to pay a visit to her best friend despite the fact that she hadn’t called or texted ever since the ceremony.

But that had only worsened things, adding to the loneliness and sadness as she returned to her place after learning that Kumi had left Tokyo just a few days prior. Part of Kaksi was hurt that she hadn’t given her any notice, not even bothering to say goodbye, but another part of her knew that it was for the best and could only wish her a good recovery.

She felt useless being unable to help her but she figured that if she couldn’t be there for Kumi she would be there for anyone else that needed her. One of those people happened to be Chifuyu - while none of them wanted to address their feelings outright, they found each other’s company comforting. Kaksi could never replace Baji, the Toman member remembered painfully when he was with her, but they would still share a laugh together from time to time.

It had always been evident to Kaksi that Chifuyu’s feelings for Baji went beyond friendship and she wondered if the first division captain had been aware. She hoped he did not, keeping Chifuyu so close yet so far seemed cruel to her, especially when Kumi had entered the picture. But that was none of her business and she didn’t exactly want to broach the subject of romance with her friend even if he did seem to want to be involved with that side of her life.

“Are you going to see Kazutora soon?”

Kaksi let out a sigh, knowing she would regret it if she didn’t.

“I guess so.”

“He’d be happy to see you,” Chifuyu reassured with a little smile. “Heard Takemichi and Draken are going to see him soon too.”

Takemichi.

Kaksi couldn’t figure why but it still bothered her that he was always so involved in everything that was related to the gang. While she had nothing personal against him (at least she thought so), she couldn’t help feeling strange about his role in all of this.

“Why is he everywhere?”

“Who?” Chifuyu asked, confused. “Takemichi?”

Kaksi nodded.

“He says he wants to be Toman’s leader,” he explained.

“What the fuck?”

Chifuyu laughed at Kaksi’s evident confusion.

“I know. He’s insane.”

“Why does he want to become Toman’s leader?” she asked. “He was a nobody months ago.”

“I don’t know,” Chifuyu admitted. “But he’s pretty damn determined to achieve his goal. Besides, Baji trusts him.”

Kaksi smiled at his last words but that wouldn’t be enough to convince her that Takemichi’s motivations and behaviour were normal.

“So you trust him?”

Chifuyu nodded.

“He’s weird,” Kaksi pointed out. “Don’t know if I do.”

Kaksi had good intuitions and she had learned in the past to always trust them. She needed to talk to Takemichi, there was clearly something she was missing in all this chaos. If someone was to be Toman’s leader after Mikey it certainly would not be Takemichi, she was convinced and even if it was, why would he want that?

As Kaksi wondered about that she was reminded of her previous conversation with him. Something didn’t add up once again - why would Baji trust Takemichi? They barely knew each other. While she knew Baji was as, if not more, intuitive and perceptive than her, there must have been more than linked them. Maybe there was something Chifuyu was unaware of? No, that didn’t make sense; she remembered Takemichi coming to Kumi and her looking for intel about Kazutora and Baji, as the Valhalla conflict had been brewing.

Takemichi really was a nobody and despite suddenly appearing in their lives, he somehow played a key role in the gang. Kaksi didn’t know why she felt the need to investigate him and thinking about it now, she realised that all the people she held dear were related to him. Perhaps it was out of desperation for something to distract her, but for her peace of mind, she needed to know more about him.  

---

Takemichi had been surprised to see Kaksi, still in her school uniform, standing by his school’s entrance. His blue eyes widened as he caught her brown ones. Her face wore a neutral expression as usual and he couldn’t help feeling intimidated as she walked over to him. She didn’t smile or wave at him but she greeted him and quickly asked if she could have a few words with him.

Takemichi agreed and awkwardly, he and the taller girl walked together for a little while. They didn’t have a specific destination in mind but he figured they could just sit at the playground right around the corner and talk. He hadn’t seen her since Baji’s funeral and he couldn’t tell how she felt, finding Kaksi rather unreadable. He did however note that she looked more tired than he had usually seen her.

“What exactly are your motivations, Takemichi?” she asked suddenly, catching him off-guard.

He stayed silent for a moment, wondering what a good answer would be to that question.

“What do you mean?”

“A few months ago I had no idea who you were,” she explained. “Then suddenly you became the most talked-about person among my friends for some reason.”

It was true that Takemichi’s involvement with Toman had evolved very quickly and he felt himself sink deeper into its core every day. So Kaksi’s confusion was founded as someone who had watched most things unfold on the sidelines.

“And now I’m told you want to become Toman’s number one?” she continued, a frown on her face. “What is it that you know that you are not telling us?”

Kaksi’s voice wasn’t threatening in the slightest, but Takemichi couldn’t help getting nervous. There were so many things that he knew that he wasn’t telling anyone and the burden of his secret was getting harder to carry every day. Part of Takemichi carried the guilt of Baji’s death and while he had prevented Mikey from killing Kazutora, he had still failed his original mission.

It didn’t matter that Baji technically killed himself, Kazutora had inflicted to him fatal injuries that Takemichi failed to anticipate despite knowing more about the events that were meant to unfold than anyone else. He stayed silent. What would Kaksi think if she knew the truth? Would she hate him for failing to save Baji?

“What do you want, Takemichi?” she asked, filling the silence once again as Takemichi found himself unable to answer.

“I just want to save everyone.”

It felt good to say it but seeing the look on Kaksi’s face he realised that he had only confused her more.

“How?”

Takemichi didn’t know. He wasn’t smart, he wasn’t strong, and he was breaking too. Tears filled his eyes and he realized that the pressure was unbearable under Kaksi’s gaze.

“I don’t know, Kaksi,” he replied, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I have no idea.”

The girl could feel her vision blur as Takemichi started to sob.

“I wish I could save everyone too.”

Her voice cracked and she was happy no one was there to witness them.

“I wish I could have done something,” she continued, frustrated and tears falling uncontrollably. “I knew Kazutora was unstable but I didn’t know what to do. I should have insisted and talked to him the moment I knew what he was preparing. Baji…”

Kaksi, finding it hard to speak, paused for a moment. It was sickening to watch her like this, Takemichi thought, the guilt he felt amplified.

“Fuck I didn’t even talk to Baji. I just let him push me away like everyone else.”

“Please don’t blame yourself,” Takemichi begged her. “I’m the one who failed to protect Baji.”

Kaksi shook her head. Takemichi couldn’t have known how far Kazutora could go. But Kaksi did, as much as she loved him, she knew that Kazutora was never only the boy who gently kissed her knuckles. No, she knew there was a much more violent and aggressive side to her love. She had believed that it was under control, that she could keep him under control but she had failed.

“You didn’t know.”

Takemichi cried louder at those words. He wanted to scream and he did, unable to contain his feelings.

“I did,” he admitted, the words barely making it out. “I knew Kazutora would stab Baji and I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t save Baji.”

He slammed his fist on the table they were sitting on and kept weeping. Kaksi’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by the sudden movement but more importantly by what he said.

“What do you mean you knew Kazutora would stab Baji?” she asked in horror and confusion.

“Forgive me, Kaksi.”

That was all Takemichi said for a moment along with repeated apologies. Kaksi asked him again, feeling her heartbeat increase. What did he mean?

“I knew Baji was going to die,” he started confessing.

But all Kaksi could do was cry harder as she listened to Takemichi’s secrets. He did not think anymore, telling her everything from the day he was meant to die, to Naoto, to Hina, to all the events he was able to change, to the guilt that crushed him and to his helplessness regarding Baji’s death.

By the end of his explanation, both of them sat quietly. Takemichi felt good for having gotten this all out of his chest but now he had to deal with how this could possibly affect Kaksi. Despite her initial shock, Kaksi figured this was way too serious for Takemichi to lie and it did explain how he had climbed Toman’s ranks so quickly and why he was so persistent. She felt a little guilty for thinking that his intentions could have been bad before they had talked.

So she apologised to him and reassured him that Baji’s death was in no way his fault and acknowledged that the weight of the responsibility he held was crushing.

“What are you going to do now?” Kaksi asked, having dried her tears.

“I’m going to go back to twelve years in the future.”

“Do you think the future will be fixed this time?”

“I hope so,” he said with a little smile.

Kaksi stayed silent for a moment.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to him anymore,” she said, eyes filling with tears again. “I’ll help you protect Mikey.”

Mikey who she hadn’t talked to in weeks. How terrible she felt, the memory of their fight still fresh in her mind. Takemichi smiled at her, the love Kaksi held for Mikey was always so evident to him but was it as evident to her and Mikey? He couldn’t tell but he hoped he could offer them the happiness they deserved.

Takemichi kept the girl company for a while longer and she promised his secret was safe with her before bidding him goodbye. They weren’t sure they would see each other again before Takemichi next time leapt, so she told him she would be meeting Kazutora and watch out for Mikey as much as she could.

This definitely wasn’t the motivation she had expected Takemichi to have but maybe she had been wrong about him. Takemichi was strong in his own way and a lot of people counted on him. She hoped he would be fine.

---

As days passed, Mikey remained on Kaksi’s mind, but he was usually quickly joined by Kazutora. What was even meant to happen to him? As much as Kaksi wanted to be angry with him, she couldn’t. She missed him already and she knew this was only the start of their troubles but what even was left of their relationship? She was unsure.

Chifuyu said he would be happy to see her and he had also told her about the rage and renewed energy that had taken over Kazutora when Mikey had hit her. She knew he still cared and she did too, so very much. Kaksi’s feelings for Kazutora never faded but she worried if he would ever believe that. All he seemed to think about was Mikey.

Kaksi didn’t know what to expect, making her way to the detention centre. She could feel tears blurring her vision at the thought of Kazutora and her being separated again as well as the reason why. He carried so much guilt that she was worried about how this would affect his fragile mental health more than anything.

She followed the police officers leading her to face her ex-boyfriend nervously. As soon as she saw him behind glass windows she couldn’t prevent her tears from falling. Kazutora watched her quietly, his own eyes filling with tears at the sight of her pain. They didn’t have that unfamiliar glimmer she was scared of and they displayed sadness more than anything else.

What could he ever say to make all this better? He didn’t think there was anything that would.

All Kazutora felt was guilt and regret. He had killed one of the most precious people to him and hurt the dearest to his heart. Kaksi was too kind to visit him especially after what he had done and accused her of. He hadn’t expected her to visit him, he hadn’t expected anyone. He had already felt like he had used all his luck when Draken had delivered Mikey’s message to him, therefore seeing the face of the girl he loved truly felt like one last blessing before his punishment started.

“Kaksi,” he started. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t say anything, drying her tears instead as Kazutora’s fell down his cheeks.

“I won’t ask for your forgiveness. You have every right to hate me.”

“You know I could never hate you, Kazutora,” she said with a sad smile.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then murmured, “You should.”

At that moment Kazutora wished that Kaksi had moved on with Mikey. He didn’t want to be a burden to her anymore, she didn’t deserve any of that.

“How long are they expecting your sentence to be?” she asked, nervously.

“Ten years.”

Kaksi clenched her teeth at the thought, the words repeating in her head. She wanted to scream in frustration but this was probably the best outcome, she was aware. So she decided to hide her distress, not wanting to worry Kazutora.

“It will be lonely without you,” she said. “But I’ll wait.”

Kazutora’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

It was as crazy as it sounded. Kaksi would wait for him again.

“I’ll wait for you,” she repeated. “I can do it.”

Kazutora wondered if those words were meant to convince him or herself.

“Kaksi,” he begged. “Don’t do this. I don’t want you to wait for me.”

Those words hurt her.

“What am I supposed to do then?” she asked, voice breaking and tears blurring her vision again.

Kaksi was tired of everything she had ever known falling apart. Baji was dead, Kumi was gone and despite her promise to Takemichi, she didn’t even know if she could fix things with Mikey. She didn’t think she could handle Kazutora leaving her too. Ten years would be torture without him but the idea of one day reuniting with her boyfriend was enough right now to comfort her.

He didn’t know what to tell her. Kazutora had already harmed her so much he wondered if having a proper breakup now wouldn’t be best for her. But seeing her cry despite trying to stay strong he couldn’t afford to break her heart a second time.

“Kaksi, I don’t want you to waste any more time for me,” he explained. “Ten years is a long time. You can’t wait that long, especially not for me.”

The girl took a moment before answering.

“I’m not giving up on you, Kazutora,” she said, a new wave of determination overtaking her. “You said you wouldn’t ask me to forgive you but why? Because you don’t think you deserve my forgiveness or because you don’t want to earn it?”

Kazutora’s sandy eyes widened. Of course he wanted to earn Kaksi’s forgiveness. He would do anything for her.

“Because I don’t think I deserve it.”

“Well that’s up to me to decide, Kazutora,” she replied, her voice colder.

Despite wanting to argue, Kazutora stayed silent.

“If you feel guilty, then fix your mistakes,” she told him. “Get proper rehabilitation and let me help you once you’re out.”

Kazutora gave her a sad smile.

“I will.”

It was a promise that he couldn’t break, he thought. Kazutora hoped that despite her words, Kaksi would move on. He hoped she stayed away from Toman, made new friends, fell in love and pursued the career she wanted to. Whether she was there to welcome him or not when he would come out didn’t matter. Her feelings would fade; they had to. The idea of her moving on with Mikey felt like knives in his stomach but he would not blame her for any decisions she would make without him this time.

“Promise you’ll be happy for the next ten years,” Kazutora demanded.

Kaksi couldn’t guarantee that.

“I’ll try my best, Kazutora,” she said with a little smile.

He smiled back at her before leaving, their meeting ending.  

---

Kaksi couldn’t tell if she was satisfied with their conversation or not but she would be welcoming Kazutora back into her life in ten years, that was a promise to herself. She wondered what other promises she was going to have to make and if she would be able to keep all of them.

The most urgent one was probably watching out for Mikey but in order to do that she needed to mend their relationship. Having been kept busy with school, she was struggling to find the right moment to talk to Mikey and the fact he wouldn’t answer her texts only made her more anxious. What if it was too late? What if he just didn’t want to see her again?

This would not be surprising after their last interaction. She hated that she would rather run away from her problems than confront them head-on. Still, she found some free time on a Saturday afternoon to pay a visit to Mikey.

He beat her to it, however, and it was with confusion that she had found him on his CB250T waiting for her not too far from her apartment block, a Thursday afternoon as Kaksi came back from school alone. She made her way over to him, rather nervously despite it not being visible on her features. Mikey’s deep black eyes didn’t leave her and while he realized he had missed her terribly, this was not what he came to tell her.

They greeted each other more awkwardly than two friends should, but a lot of things had changed since their last interaction.

“I wanted to apologize for what happened at the junkyard,” Mikey said, bowing in front of Kaksi. “I’m sorry I hurt you while you tried to protect Kazutora.”

Kaksi’s brown eyes widened.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” she reassured him. “It was an accident.”

“It doesn’t matter. I hit you.”

She watched as Mikey remained in the same position.

“I forgive you, Mikey,” she told him, not wanting him to feel guilty about it anymore.

He stood straight again, his face expressionless before walking back to his bike. Despite sincerely feeling awful for what he had done to Kaksi he couldn’t help remaining angry. The day Baji died, Mikey would have had to kill Kaksi if he had wanted to kill Kazutora - this was how much she loved Kazutora and not him. This was a selfish thought considering everything that had happened but that realisation hurt Mikey.

Kaksi watched him, even more, confused by his behaviour than when he had first appeared.

“Mikey, wait!” she exclaimed as he started his engine.

She quickly walked over to him, not wanting the conversation to end here.

“I’m sorry for what I said the last time we had lunch together,” she told him. “I di-”

“There’s no need for you to apologise,” he cut her off, coldly. “I know you only care about Kazutora.”

Kaksi looked at him in shock. This was far from true and it angered her to think Mikey believed that.

“This is false,” she protested. “How could you say this?”

Mikey took a moment before answering. He didn’t want to argue with her but this was probably the best way to make sure she would never talk to him again. While it was true that Mikey’s feelings had been hurt, this wasn’t the only thing that drove him to cut Kaksi out of his life so abruptly. Things were getting far too dangerous these days and even he was unsure about Toman’s future. For her safety, he needed to push her away even if it hurt both of them.

“What am I to you, Kaksi?” Mikey asked.

What was she supposed to answer? She didn’t have a clear answer other than her friend but before she could say anything, Mikey spoke again.

“I don’t want to be Kazutora’s placeholder.”

“This is not what you are, Mikey!” she replied, growing frustrated. “You were never Kazutora’s placeholder! You are my friend.”

“Then I don’t think I want to be friends anymore,” he said, the pain he felt was imperceptible at surface level but palpable at his very core.

Kaksi stood in silence and Mikey decided he didn’t have anything else to tell her. So he left, the noise from his engine filling the girl’s ears as he drove away, accelerating as if that would make it all go away. Maybe Kaksi loved him as he loved her, maybe she didn’t. No matter the answer though, Mikey knew he had to keep her safe and that could only be possible by exiting her life, as heartbreaking as it was.

Mikey didn’t drive back home, instead, he kept wandering the streets with his older brother and his childhood friend in his thoughts. What would they think of this?

There wasn’t any other solution, was there?  

---

Heartbroken over Mikey, Kaksi realised that it was one by one that she was losing her friends. The wound Baji had left her was still too fresh and she wondered if loneliness wouldn’t be better, after all. She had spent the following days visiting Kazutora while she still could but his trial had ended quickly and his sentence had already started now.

After that, it felt like everything had started to slow down. Despite spending most of her time studying, Kaksi’s days seemed endless. She didn’t talk to any remaining Toman members except for Chifuyu but she had the feeling that eventually, they would be parting ways too very soon. She assumed Takemichi had time leapt since the last time she had seen him he hadn’t even returned her smile.

She also noticed Chifuyu avoided mentioning the gang at all around her and it became obvious that something was wrong. Kaksi wondered for some time, maybe too long, if she should investigate by herself or not. Eventually, she had decided to talk to Mitsuya, one of the most reasonable people she knew and although he welcomed her warmly and didn’t hold it against her that she hadn’t talked to him in a long time, he only gave her a warning.

Like Chifuyu he looked too exhausted for a middle schooler and it appeared to her that he had matured even faster if it was even possible for someone in his predicament. All he was able to tell her was that Toman was changing and he was confused as to where all of this was heading. She tried to get some answers to her question but Mitsuya told her frankly that she would be better off without knowing.

So it was Yamagishi that she had recognised on her way to cram school that had given her more details about what she wanted to know. As expected the few rumours she had heard were true. Toman had gotten bigger and that involved more trouble, Kisaki was now one of the most influential members and all that mattered now was blood and money.

Kaksi had tried to know what all of this meant exactly but Yamagishi told her that his position didn’t allow him to disclose more information. He had given her a warning too but with new irritation, she had cut him off and left. She didn’t know what to do. Was there anything she could do? In a few months what used to be a kid's playground had turned into one of the most dangerous and feared gangs of Tokyo.

As much as Kaksi still cared for some of its members, she knew when to give up on a pointless battle but before doing that she had to try one last time to spare those she loved.

“Chifuyu, you should leave Toman.”

The boy stayed silent for a moment.

“It’s not that easy,” he told her.

“But it will be harder if you wait.”

“Don’t worry about me, Kaksi,” Chifuyu reassured.

He should know that was impossible.

“Well, I can’t do that. I know you won’t talk about it but Toman changed,” she replied, voice louder as her frustration built up. “These are not people you want to be involved with.”

“I’m aware but I know what I’m doing.”

Chifuyu remained calm but this wasn’t how he felt. He appreciated that Kaksi looked out for him but he could never leave Toman. This was Baji’s legacy and if it wasn’t him, then who would fight for its sake?

Kaksi chuckled, but it was bitterness and pain that had her speaking this time.

“This is what Baji thought too before fucking dying.”

Chifuyu clenched his fists, his patience running thin.

“What do you think you are going to achieve by yourself?” she asked, her words pointed.

Chifuyu’s jaw tensed even further.

“More than you ever will, Kaksi.”

She wasn’t hurt by those words. Chifuyu was right, all Kaksi could do was run away. But some things weren’t worth fighting for.

“I know what all this meant to Baji,” she said with teary eyes. “But he is dead, as painful as it is and you will end up joining him if you’re not careful, Chifuyu.”

This hurt but Chifuyu didn’t expect Kaksi to understand.

“Well then I hope I do,” he replied, coldly. “I’d rather die trying too hard than not trying at all.”

Kaksi chuckled again, a sardonic, almost soulless sound.

“Living then dying for someone that could never return what you gave to them looks painful.”

There was a pause as Chifuyu let those words sink in, and considered exactly how much Baji may have understood his feelings.

“If this is what you think this is then you should leave,” Chifuyu finally answered, angry and hurt.

The girl stayed quiet and decided she had said what she had to. Maybe she had been too harsh, maybe she hadn’t been harsh enough but this was as hard as she would try. She liked to think she was devoted to the ones she loved but she figured she had been wrong. If Chifuyu wanted to live for the ghost of his past then so be it, but this was something Kaksi refused to do.

Still, there was something she was afraid of and that was regrets. Walking away from Chifuyu after warning him was something but giving up without trying was something else which was why abandoning Mikey for good felt different. While he was the one who had ended their relationship, Kaksi thought that maybe she hadn’t been insistent enough. So it wouldn’t be without having him hear her out that she would put Toman behind her for good.

---

Waiting for Mikey to open the door of his home felt like the last goodbye. How stupid Kaksi felt for having told Takemichi that she would help him protect Mikey. Who was she kidding? She was never a hero. Maybe loneliness, grief and sadness killed her empathy or maybe she was just tired, she wasn’t sure.

When Mikey finally opened the door she was afraid he would immediately close it again but he didn’t; his deep black eyes studied her instead. He looked different, to say the least, while his features hadn’t changed, like Kazutora, there was something unfamiliar and slightly frightening about him now. Kaksi had anticipated this, however. She wondered if it was really a stranger she faced now?

“Can we talk, Mikey?” she asked, in a neutral voice, hiding her uneasiness.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

As straightforward as ever, Mikey was ready to close his front door but Kaksi stopped him, blocking the door with her hand and foot, begging him to listen, for once.

“I thought I was clear, last time,” he warned. “Get out of my sight.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Mikey?”

She didn’t expect an answer, she just needed to get her frustration out.

“What are you even doing? Quit pushing me away!” she barked at him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”

Mikey’s tone was icy and he remained unimpressed by Kaksi’s outburst. This was so unlike her, he thought still. She was always so calm and composed but he figured that too many things had been testing her patience lately, one of them being him. Her expression remained unchanged at those words and he wondered if it was defeat that he saw in her eyes.

“What a fucking joke Toman is,” she told him, a bitter smile on her lips. “A new age for delinquents? A gang that’s all for one, and one for all? What happened to that? Did it just die with Baji?”

Mikey’s eyes widened slightly but it was almost imperceptible. With one swift movement, he pushed away Kaksi’s arm and had her stumble back.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” he snapped at her. “And mind your own fucking business.”

“Fuck you,” Kaksi yelled at Mikey, using all her strength to push him away from her before walking away.

She didn’t want to cry, she was too furious to allow that. Kaksi had so many things to say but she figured it was better to run. Clearly, there was no reasoning with any of her friends.

She did what she could, she would never try again.

[texanredrose]

Okay, to put some limitations on this, I’m only including the WIPs that I’ve done more than a synopsis for... that I can remember... that’s on Google Drive... that I actually think I might post one day... but haven’t posted yet because my posted WIPs are fairly easy to identify... okay... I got tagged by @unsteadyshade and I’m tagging @faunusrights and @alexlayer69

1) Across Time - Inuyasha AU where Weiss gets thrown back in time to the ancient past, where she meets two demons (Yang and Blake) warring against each other over a misunderstanding.

2) Alpha’s Devotion - Omega’s Strength, but from Winter’s POV.

3) Bears, Oh My - An exhausted Winter, lost on a hike, comes across a cabin where Yang lives with her three pet bears.

4) Brave New World - Continuation of the Dishonored AU where Ruby and Winter reflect on the new Mantle.

5) Bruised - Third installment to the ace!Yang AU. 

6) Coming Home - Based on Dash’s Tiny Knight AU, Princess Blake is betrayed and stranded far from home and must rely on a reticent knight named Weiss to return to her kingdom.

7) Complications Always Arise - Papa Schnee is demanding Weiss marry before he’ll allow her to take his place as head of the SDC, so Yang volunteers to pretend to be Weiss’ beloved. No one else knows the relationship is fake, least of all Blake and Winter, and it’s just a bunch of pain.

8) Divided - Continuation of the By Moonlight AU where Whitley returns to the castle and Winter’s not upset by that- and Winter’s upset by the fact she’s not upset and has to figure out why her inner wolf is cool with this when she should, by all rights, be furious.

9) Dragonsbane - Mage Knight Winter hears tale of a dragon in the countryside that the local villages wish to see vanquished. Winter, however, has other plans.

10) Eye of the Beholder - Blinded and near death after a battle, Winter is rescued by the mysterious Yang and is nursed back to health despite her protests otherwise. (It’s a Medusa!AU.)

11) Fabled - Fable 3 AU where Princess Ruby and Princess Yang are forced to confront the fact that Queen Raven has lost her fucking mind, only to discover that fear drove the woman insane- a fear they must confront themselves.

12) Fields of Love - Farmer Yang offers a job and housing to apparent single mother Winter and her young daughter Penny. What starts as a kind gesture grows into something so much more.

13) Full Circle - Van Helsing (2004) AU, Winter and Weiss, amnesiacs employed by the church to handle all manner of unholy problems, are sent to discover what happened to King Taiyang. Along the way, they become wrapped up in a centuries spanning prophecy and a bloodline hanging in the balance.

14) High Bar, Low Blow - Yang owns a bar where the gimmick is that everyone’s an out of work actor and the staff is staging an ongoing drama on par with a soap opera to keep their customers coming back. Winter joins the staff and then things get a bit real.

15) Hoodlums and Hijinks - Robin Hood AU where Princess Winter and Princess Weiss are just as in favor for overthrowing the king as the group of bandits run by Ruby, Yang, and Blake. 

16) Last One 2: Electric Boogaloo (title subject to change) - a sequel to Last One where the haunt continues.

17) Lexical Access - Sequel to Tip of the Tongue, where Yang gives her girlfriend a bit of roleplaying payback.

18) Little Red - Carmen Sandiego AU where Ruby was kidnapped adopted by a group of thieves and raised to become the world’s greatest thief, but a chance meeting with Penny via a stolen phone opens her eyes to the wider world, and she meets the rebellious heiress Weiss, street smart Blake, and brawler Yang, creating a team that works to foil Ruby’s former friends while eluding capture by mysterious operatives with a somewhat familiar white color scheme...

19) Long Term Investment - Yang, a fae who lives in the woods, makes a deal with Princess Winter to save the Queen. The price? Winter’s firstborn. Winter misunderstands how she’s expected to get pregnant and Yang’s never actually intended to collect. Next thing Yang knows, Winter’s moving into the clearing beside her tree home.

20) Miscalculation - Another Omegaverse AU where Weiss is an omega and Blake and Yang are alphas, except Weiss lied and said she was an alpha when enrolling in Beacon and now she’s locked in a room with Blake and Yang on the verge of starting her heat. Sharing is caring.

21) More Than Words Can Say - Winter, rendered mute by a military accident early in her career, is honestly the best girlfriend Yang’s ever had. However, tonight’s the night they’ve decided to get intimate, and that includes showing some scars that they don’t show often. It’s less about sex and more about trust and intimacy.

22) Music of the Night - Phantom of the Opera AU where the mysterious, disfigured shade of the opera house, Weiss, finds herself at odds with the rich, jovial Yang in a competition for Blake’s heart. Then there’s Adam being a dick, too, and the opera house has never seen so much drama.

23) My Heart Will Go On - It’s the Titanic, but double the rich, unwilling-to-marry ladies and triple the won-a-ticket-to-a-ship ruffians. Penny’s there too; she, like Ruby, just really likes ships.

24) One Fucking Favor - Winter’s due for a long assignment and wants to make a sex tape for stress relief purposes. Yang doesn’t ask questions; she’s just the one with the camera. But then, Winter’s partner for the vid doesn’t show up. What’s Yang going to do about it?

25) Prophecy - Star Wars AU where Ruby, Yang, and Blake are trained as Jedi, Winter and Weiss are part of the clone army, and Ruby’s the chosen one. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, but Senator Salem is there to lend a helping hand...

26) Propositioned - Faunus experience bouts of heat; sometimes, they can safely ignore it and go about their lives, but every now and again, they really can’t. Concerned for Blake’s health as she’s skipped too many heats to be healthy, Yang sets up a partner for Blake’s heat. Blake’s not a fan but she does like the idea of banging Weiss Schnee.

27) Proven - ARK: Survival Evolved AU where Winter, after being ‘won’ by Yang, is taken into the bowels of the earth to learn how the underground tribes who inhabit the area survive in such an unforgiving environment. As she acclimates to the tribe’s ways, she finds herself carving out her own path, culminating in facing off against the Queen and proving herself worthy.

28) Reaping What You Sow - When Winter escaped to the countryside with Penny to start a farm, she knew she had her work cut out for her. In need of help and facing a harsh cold season, she hires Yang, a one armed drifter, to help her. The two end up needing the other more than they could’ve imagined.

29) Tear My Heart Open - Blake thought she understood how the world worked. As a member of the White Fang Gang, all she needed to do was keep everyone motivated to continue their ongoing street war against the police and authorities bent on keeping them down. But while running from the cops, she’s offered sanctuary in the home of one Weiss Schnee and her girlfriend, Yang. From there, her perception of the world is completely upended.

30) The Duel - After her father offered her hand in marriage to the winner of a tournament, Winter opted to assume a disguise and fight for the prize herself. In the final match, she faces Yang Xiao Long, a competitor she’s come to know quite well, and she finds her conviction to win wavering slightly. Is it enough to lose her the fight?

31) The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Weiss has made it; she’s opened her tattoo shop in Vale, well away from her father, and aside from a bad first impression with the florists across the parking lot, everything’s looking up for her- until her father finds her. Luckily, Blake’s been through some shit and doesn’t mind helping Weiss drive daddy dearest up the wall, even if it means letting her own parents think she’s dating Weiss. It’s not like either of them is going to catch feelings... unless...

32) The Princess’ Bride - After losing her fiancée to the dreaded White Fang Pirates, Yang vows to take to the sea herself and exact her revenge. Princess Weiss finds herself falling madly in love with Yang, who still loves Blake, and all this is thrown into even more chaos when Yang gets kidnapped and Blake comes back from the dead! 

33) Two for One - Yes, another Omegaverse AU. Five years after the fall of Beacon, Yang and Blake cross paths, each believing the other has spent the time keeping their mutual mate, Weiss, safe. When they realize Weiss is with neither of them, old wounds are torn open, but before they can resolve their dispute, Winter captures the both of them and hauls them to a remote part of Atlas where an SDC facility has been turned into a fortress. There, they find a mortally wounded Weiss clinging to life and raising twins daughters; she gives her mates until her death to endear themselves to their children, else the twins might opt to stay with Winter and be kept from Blake and Yang for good. Between learning about their kids, Blake and Yang navigate their complicated feelings and try to reconnect with Weiss, all while a sinister force gathers to destroy the fortress and steal the prize within.

34) Weaknesses - Loosely set in the Glamour AU, Yang is being forced to assume her mother’s position as leader of their vampire coven. Her fellow vamps disapprove of Yang’s werewolf girlfriend. Winter, of course, doesn’t care.

I got lazy and cut a bunch out. No, fuck you, I don’t have too many AUs, I will add more if I want. Also, some of these, the first chapter is posted on my Patreon. Don’t ask me which ones; I genuinely have no idea. I’m bad at this, y’all.

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut later.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

You show me the man and I’ll show you the rule.

Tomura thinks he knows nothing about beauty, but then she proves him wrong.

(He thought her pretty before already, but after seen it…he concludes she’s the most beautiful, terrific thing he’s ever seen. Not that he would tell her that.)

A feral dangerous creature living inside of her with no other match.

No other but him.

Oh...you have no idea...She told him.

It happens so fast. One moment she’s there, sitting in front of her laptop, pretty and quiet and serene. All harmony and light, resting softly under the sunlight, between her dumb succulents and the spices that fill her home. Then he can hear Dabi’s caustic laugh and the wrong words. He’s disrespectful, an instigator, skilled in the art of making others lose their composure like is his favorite game.

He hears the foul words, the berating, and the mocking aimed to him, while she sits wide eyed and impossible flustered by the kitchen table.

Dabi smirks triumphant, like he always does after giving everyone a piece of his drama and Tomura watches him, wincing, reminding himself again that Dabi is supposedly oldest than him and Toga, and yet he does his best to being an annoying brat.

Tomura knows better to just let him bark, his remarks mean nothing to him, he knows what he is, and he knows what he isn’t. He’s a freak, yeah. That too, but he isn’t a child anymore, so he let it slide, keeping his eyes glued to his phone arching an inquisitive brow, ready to just let it die there.

He just forgot about the stupid little stunts of bravery she has this tendency to commit. (An annoying dangerous trait that makes him chuckle with something akin to fondness.)

She’s having none of the bullshit, Dabi’s little remarks had fed her up after a whole week of spiteful teasing, her precious patience has run thin.

“blue eyes are a mutation too, so you are no one to talk about it.”

The moment she opens her mouth, Tomura feels something warm filling the hollow place where his dead heart should go and it’s so foreign to him that for a moment he panics and thinks (very stupidly) that maybe his energy drink-based diet is finally going to kill him, and he (barely in his sweet twenty’s) is having a stupid heart attack.

But the pain never comes, it’s just her, voicing a clever answer, defending him.

“A quirkless little bitch? Seriously, Dabi? Where you raised in a fucking barn that you know nothing but fuck this and bitch that?

He wants to make her shut it, but he can’t find the words. Not when her remarks are sharp and funny to hear. (Besides, her voice sounds so sweet when she’s throwing smart ass angry comments just to back him up.)

It warms him and enrages him equally. How dare she to defend him? He can speak for himself on his own and doesn’t need her to make any back up about an insult he doesn’t care for. Stupid pretty woman. Trying to shut Dabi, putting herself in danger for the likes of him...Is she insane? (later that day, he’ll conclude that she must be pretty fucking nuts to have them all in her home after all, but somehow the thought only makes him like her more.)

“yeah. I know stupid cunt too.”

Dabi likes to cause havoc and now he’s pissed, so he throws a vulgarity aimed at her. Tomura feels the hot pang of anger at the other man, because the offense is not only an insult, but also a lie.  She’s not stupid nor a cunt. She's sharp as a knife and kind enough to share with them. 

“Dabi, cut it out.” He warns with a grimace, and now the fight has everyone tense in the room.

“I’m sure you do. Pretty useful to describe yourself I bet.” She snarls showing her teeth, an angry frown darkening her features and Tomura swears her eyes begin changing color.

“you sure like to bet, like how you are betting I don’t burn you alive for being an annoying bitch.”

This time Tomura gets fucking furious, something animal revolving inside of him at the idea of Dabi threatening her. But the fight is escalating so fast, he can’t say anything before she answers back.  

“Fuck off, Dabi. This might be shocking for you, but you don’t scare me.”

He wants to laugh at this, truly. Feisty little thing she is when angered, all her soft ways and nerd knowledge thrown out the window in a fit of cocky bickering and a part of him is living for the chaos of it.

“now, that’s pretty fucking stupid of you.”

“Dabi, shut up!” Tomura growls irked with the way her hair has begun to float over her shoulders, now completely convinced that she’s not quirkless at all.

“I’m not the one insulting everyone just because I cannot deal with some fucking daddy issues.”

God fucking dammit woman, just shut up. He thinks frustrated, giving her a look worth a stab.

“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT” Dabi snarls before kicking the little table in the living room, breaking one of its legs with a loud crack.

“CUT IT OUT!” she screams this time, standing from her chair “I don’t have to know when it’s plainly obvious you have problems with authority.”

“you really think you are so clever, don’t you?” Dabi states, crossing the living room, aiming to her, so Tomura leaves his place in the corner to stand at her side without even thinking why.

“I know I am, asshole!”

Dabi stops his tracks, looming over her like a monster. His eyes scanning her face before looking at Tomura, who stands by her with his hands open in front of him in clear warning.

The black-haired man looks at her before moving to Tomura, his brows raised in surprise as he chuckles darkly.

Shigaraki hates the way he looks at him, like he knows his thoughts. Like he knows he’s been creeping into her room to watch her sleep and the sinister lustful visions that sometimes plague his dreams after some playful back and forth every time she defies him with some smart-ass comment.

“stupid woman. You should know better.”

And then…he just slaps the laptop out of the table; the computer smashing open against the cemented ground.

Tomura remembers this moment like one would remember the witness of a car crush or a catastrophe. A simple second enough to amaze him for a lifetime.

The way her eyes just ignite into scorching red lights shining like burning embers under her frown brow. Her hair floats free from gravity over her shoulders like a terrible chaotic crown as her mouth flash pearly teeth in a feral snarl.

He watches how she claws her right hand, fingers curling, knuckles tensing and Dabi is suddenly choking under the pressure of some raw power. His limbs twisting painfully in horrific motion and unnatural angles in complete agony.

A second later and before anyone could grasp what’s happening, her other hand pointing pinky, index and thumb to Compress, Toga and himself, keeping them frozen in their place, a strange rigid pressure making him feel like he’s full of cement and any movement will shatter his bones and snap his spine.

He can’t move, he can barely breathe. Feeling like if every fiber of his being, every muscle, every cord is solid hard under his skin, unavailing him to get away.

But he can watch, so he watches her terrified and amazed.

Her quirk is rare, and powerful and dangerous. But she keeps it locked away, sleeping soundly, safely caged inside her ribs, like the best hidden weapon, perfect for torturing bodies and bending wills. Buried deeply under her layers of kindness and humor.

One twitch of a finger, and Dabi’s neck would snap in two and they can do nothing but just watch when little blood vessels begin to burst in the white of his eyes as he pants desperate for air, his veins contorting furiously under the marred skin of his neck and the flames scatter in some random parts of his body without any control.

Tomura swears he can hear Dabi’s bones crackle under the invisible force as his spine bends backwards in a sickening angle.

And, as sudden as it begins, ends.

Her hair falls and her eyes are no longer red. Dabi breathes again falling to his knees and for a moment Tomura thinks he will cry out of pure fright.

For a moment he wonders if Toga and Compress want to cry too because that felt like certain death, but is sweet, somehow. Something within him squirms joyfully with the notion of her own violence. She is as dangerous as him, no damsel in distress, no little girl in need of care, no simple quirkless girl, but a horrifying woman. A dangerous and powerful creature with a quirk made for torment, just like-

He looks at her, just to find a sad disappointed face. A thick trail of blood began sliding silently from her nose, tainting the perfect bow of her lip. Only then he notices the bloodshot eyes and how the color has run from her face.

She stands quiet and bitter watching between her hands and Dabi trying to catch his breath. Her face giving away guilt and self-loathing (two feelings he’s very familiar with.) but unlike him, she is no tormentor, she grasps no joy in watching Dabi suffer, nor do she wish of making them quiver to the sight of her.

She is kind, and brave, and witty. Humorous girl, quick at wordplay and puns; buying vitamins and oranges for them and something about no one getting scurvy under her watch.

He wants to laugh hysterically at her sight because she is magnificent, and for a moment he thinks that the boy with the destructive touch and the girl with the tormenting gaze sounds like a hell of a name for rulers and his heart shivers in excitement, but she is crying and clutches her guilty hands against her chest and ask them to forgive her for using her quirk on them.

She didn’t mean to; she didn’t want to. She likes them all very much, so she promises she’ll never hurt them again, and somehow it reminds him of something, but he cannot place a finger on what exactly.

He feels the sorrow drowning him. A grudge so horrid it makes him want to vomit and scratch his neck raw because something in her resembles something in him, but he cannot really grasp the motive of such connection, only knowing it has something to do with the hands he carries around like a symbol of his own distress and a little black-haired boy crying in some familiar backyard.

The sound of the bathroom door startles him and she’s no longer in the living room, but he can hear the quiet sobbing coming from behind the door.

Finally, Dabi decides to just fall backwards against the cold floor, still panting, an arm over his eyes.

Only then Spinner breaks the dreadful silence and ask the question they all want to make.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT.”

Chapter 10

[whothehellisyn]

Cat and Mouse | Ch. 7

Series Masterlist

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dark!Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Warnings: unreality, paranoia, wet dreams, minor gaslighting (moved objects), sleep paralysis

AN: you know the typical warnings, and we’re almost caught up to my current writing!

It’s been two weeks since Quentin left, and it’s been three days since you’ve slept. You can feel the exhaustion affecting your body and your mind, as you’re much clumsier now. Earlier you dropped a glass again, and just now you hip-checked the kitchen counter because you miscalculated how far you were from it.

“Fuck!” You groan, rubbing your hip. “God, I’m so fucking tired.”

“Maybe you’ll pass out eventually, and just collapse and force-sleep.” You say. It’s a hopeful thought. “Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll happen later on tonight.” You nod to yourself and go back to perusing the kitchen for lunch.

“Damn, I need to go to the store soon.” You note, wondering if you should make a list. “Wait...” Oh yeah. You can’t do that.

“Is there enough for this week?” You ask. You start to do some mental calculations, counting up the cans and boxes.

“Maybe? If you’re careful.” You decide. “No more snacks, just the meals.”

Making conversation with yourself has become second nature now, and you don’t hesitate to ask yourself things that don’t matter. Over dinner, you explain to yourself wether you believe in fairies or not. You pretended to give a tutorial on cooking as you prepared your meal. You’ve started to feel more and more tired throughout the day, but in the middle of cleaning up your dishes it starts to really hit you.

Even as you wash your plate you can feel your eyes trying to close. Your body begins to settle into a sort of lull as the sink runs, the white noise is so comforting and soft...

The metallic clang of the plate slipping from your fingers and landing in the sink makes you jump, snapping awake.

“I’m way too tired to be handling breakable items.” You mumble. You know you have to shower before you try to get some sleep, but it’s so tempting to just go to bed dirty.

“Don’t be gross,” You chastise yourself, “You stink.”

You start the shower again and begin to get undressed. Just before you go to get into the shower, you hear the big metal door clanging shut. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you peek out of the bathroom and look for Quentin. Nobody is in the suite, but there’s brown paper bags on the kitchen table. You go to them and discover that they’re groceries, a mix of fresh foods and shelf items.

t occurs to you that this means you’re being punished for the long run. Then you start to think more about this delivery. Apart from your short bathroom breaks, this was the first time all day you’ve been out of the main area longer than a few minutes. How could he have known you needed food and also when you’d be occupied long enough to deliver food without you being able to see him?

You tighten the towel around your body and look around the tops of the walls. He’s got to be watching you somehow.

You search around for fifteen minutes before you realize you’ve left the water on.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You say, running to the bathroom. You feel the water and luckily it’s still warm. You shrug off the towel and rush to get clean. Hopefully he doesn’t have cameras in the bathroom.

Wether it was the grocery delivery or the shower, that sleepiness from earlier is gone much to your chagrin. You lie on the floor, on the verge of tears from frustration. God, you’re so fucking tired.

“I just want to sleep!” You whine, covering your eyes with your arm. “I don’t want to sleep in the bed.” You add, as if to stop yourself from suggesting it.

But maybe you have to, even if you don’t want to. You sit up quietly and sneak over to the bed to avoid your own will from realizing what you’re doing.

The bedsheets are so soft, have they always been? They don’t even smell like Quentin anymore, thank god for that. You use the blanket you’ve been sleeping with onto of the bedspread and curl up in the comfort of the mattress.

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You dream that you’re in SHIELD headquarters and Peter Parker has dyed his hair green on accident. Director Fury’s eyepatch keeps changing eyes but he doesn’t seem to notice. He asks you if you’re allergic to tomatoes and that he wants to know because he just learned how to make spaghetti.

Your neighbor Madeline announces to the three of you that she is now the new head of SHIELD and puts Director Fury in a mason jar. You get put in a coffee mug and she makes Peter dye his hair purple before putting him in a Tupperware. Apparently Director Madison has a fascination with putting people in containers.

It starts storming inside the headquarters, and little fishes and seaweeds drop from the clouds and onto everyone. “It’s a hurricane!” Director Fury yells, dumping you out of the mug. “We have to take cover.”

You obey, and hide next to Peter Parker underneath a desk. He has an octopus on his head, but you try not to stare. He’s about to tell you something when–

You wake up still exhausted, but feeling much better than before. What a weird dream.

You half expected Quentin to be in bed next to you, but you’re still alone. You go to unpack the groceries from last night but they’re already put away. Another quiet visit.

“That’s kinda of rude, don’t you think?” You ask.

“Personally I think it’s incredibly fucking rude, but what do I know?” You reply.

“No, no,I definitely agree with you.” You say, opening the fridge to look for where everything has been put. “Especially because butter,” you grab a knob out of the box, “goes outside the fridge!” You tear off the paper and drop it onto a plate.

“Of course he’d put all the butter in the fridge, the fucking bastard.” You say jokingly. “He’s the exact type to not understand the needs of butter.”

You chuckle for a few seconds before you go quiet. You’re really laughing at something you told yourself, huh? That’s not what normal people do. Maybe you’re going crazy.

“You’re not crazy, dumbass.” You say in an obvious tone. “Social conventions are bullshit, everyone talks to themselves at least a little.”

You feel the need to add to your defense, “At least you’re not seeing stuff.”

Two more days pass and you start to feel more paranoid about the surveillance that surely is required for these quiet visits of Quentin’s. You’ve also been incredibly bored and anxious to do literally anything since day three, and now you’re getting tired of talking to yourself. Which is pretty fucking bad because you don’t have have anybody else at this point.

You’re eating a bowl of soup for lunch when you notice the bathroom door is closed. That’s weird, you think. it was definitely open a few seconds ago, you just came from the bathroom not ten minutes before. Setting the bowl down on the kitchen counter, you approach the bathroom door and let it swing open.

The bathroom is empty. You were certain you hadn’t closed it, but maybe you did and just didn’t realize it. The days all blend together now anyways, it’s not unreasonable to have done it without noticing.

You go back to your soup, picking it up off the table where you left it.

But you didn’t leave it there. You left it on the counter, didn’t you?

The metal door hasn’t opened since the groceries were delivered and put away last week. You’re certain of it. You even started showering with the bathroom door open so you’d be able to hear it.

You abandon the soup and start opening up cabinets. You open up every single cupboard, the pantry, the linen closet in the bathroom, you even open up all the drawers. You tuck the bed skirt up under the mattress so you can see under the bed. You find nothing but...

Something is in here with you. You don’t know if it’s Quentin, or a drone, or both, but there’s no fucking way you would think you placed the bowl on the counter unless you really did. You’re not sure how to proceed with this information.

You go to put the leftover soup in the fridge, and on the middle shelf at your eye-level is the plate with the butter on it. You calmly take it out and place it back on the counter.

“Like I said, a fucking bastard.” You say quietly.

You crawl into bed that night wary of your surroundings. Nothing has been moved since lunch, but you can’t shake the feeling that something else has changed. It’s something unconscious, you think. Like if the walls were suddenly two shades lighter than they were yesterday. There’s no way for you to prove something is different but you can sense it all the same.

You get underneath your trusty blanket and lie in the darkness. You want to fall asleep, even if it means that whatever is in here has the chance to do something. You can dream if you sleep, you can go be somewhere else and “talk” to people.

You are dreaming, but it’s a sea of images and sounds and sights. It feels like home and nowhere simultaneously, which was fine. You feel something crawling all over you, and when you look down, your body is covered in thick vines that have wrapped around your limbs.

You wake up flailing, inches down the bed from where you fell asleep. The covers are thrown off, your pajamas slouching down towards your left foot as if something had grabbed it to yank you off the bed.

These sort of peripheral out-of-sight visuals continue. Sometimes you feel breath on the back of your neck that belongs to no one, or feel the looming presence of a person inches away from you until you turn around to face an empty room. You know he has illusion technology, you know it must be him, but it feels so small and minuscule compared to what he’d usually do.

Maybe he’s trying to make you feel crazy, so you’ll run into his arms afraid you’re insane. Maybe you’re trying to make you feel crazy, accidentally.

You sleep again, this time waking up to sleep paralysis. You’ve never had it before now, at least that you can remember. You had dreamt of a weight on your chest, and something choking you with just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. You hallucinate that a rotting corpse is straddling and strangling you as you lie immobile, and when the paralysis leaves you you sob with relief.

Days melt again and sleep comes rarely. The times you do fall asleep you’re always jarred awake, that feeling of falling taking over. You fall asleep anxiously, your heart pounding slowly as if it’s preparing itself for more terror.

You step out of the shower one morning and in passing notice your obscured reflection in the bathroom mirror. Full of steam, your body is a blurry mass of flesh tone within its confines, but what catches your eye is a large, dark object directly behind you.

Breathing shallowly, you pick up a hand towel and slowly make your way to the surface of the mirror, before swiping quickly as if it startle the thing behind you first.

As you swipe away the steam, the visage disappears instantaneously. Whatever was behind you is no more. Paranoia begins to rear its head.

The night terrors and sleep paralysis are awful, the peripheral hallucinations as well, but nothing mentally prepares you for the dream you have.

It’s easy to write off the rest of these moments as Quentin’s doing, after all, he’s a master manipulator.

You’re running through the maze again. It’s still as dimly lit and damp as it was the day he forced you through it, but this time something has changed within you.

Quentin catches you with ease, just like last time. But when he grins, you grin back and catch his lips with a very open kiss, tongues working into each others’ mouths. You wanted him to catch you.

His Mysterio clones pin you to the wall and you moan, legs opening wide for the Quentin as they grab your arms. You’re not wearing panties, and Quentin groans approvingly as he kneels on the ground and buries his face in your sex, hiking your gown up past your hips. He rips the side seams, leaving you naked before the three men. The clones, rid of their helmets, bite at your neck and take turns kissing you messily.

Everywhere you look, everything you feel, is Quentin Beck. The two clones lean to kiss you at the same time, Quentin fucking you with his tongue as he eats you out. You get close and closer to climaxing when he pulls away suddenly and looks up at you, dragging his tongue against your clitoris torturingly slow.

“Fuck, please,” you gasped. “Please, I don’t want to cum yet.” Quentin slows his pace even more, his tongue hot and wet against you. The mysterios begin to tease your nipples with their fingers as they suck on your neck, one dipping down to use his mouth. You whine and squirm against them and the pleasure.

“I want you to fuck me, please.” You beg, stomach tightening from the impending orgasm.

Almost excitedly, Quentin pulls back and tugs his suit off, though his clones haven’t stopped their pace at all as if to keep you on edge. They’ve raised you further up the wall, Quentin nestling between your legs like he was made to be there.

He pushes into you and your entire body thrums with how good it feels. How good he feels.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good sweetheart.” He groans. He sets an unrelenting pace, quick and hard.

You’ve devolved into a series of pleases and fucks and yeses, alternating between those words as he rubs your clit with one hand and grabs your hip with the other. His clones are whispering things to you, Quentin too.

“You gorgeous little thing, you’re ours and nobody else’s.” one says. “You’re such a good girl for us, sweetheart.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll have to carry you back, all fucked out from my cock.” Quentin says, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby?”

You nod, your entire body stimulated from the three of them. It would feel good to be spoiled that way, to be carried back and tucked in and away from everything else.

Quentin’s breathing has become ragged, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he thrusts harder and harder into you until he cums, your own orgasm following suit as the feeling of his release inside you pushes you over the edge.

You wake up sweating, underwear damp and proof of what had just transpired.

The one place Quentin couldn’t hurt you, and there he was, fucking you inside it. A wet dream to betray your hatred.

You know it’s impossible for him to know what just happened but you still feel ashamed and confused.

The shower water is hot, borderline unbearable, and you roughly wash your arousal out of yourself with your fingers. It did not happen. It couldn’t have happened. It will not have happened.

Various excerpts of the four of you play in your head every idle moment you afford your brain. It lurks behind every thought you process as if to remind you that it came from within your mind.

You push it away as much as you can, try to ignore the sinking feeling. Somewhere Carl Jung is preaching to a dead choir about wish fulfillment. Plenty of people have dreams about the things that happen to them, and it gets jumbled up and spit back out in their sleep as something contorted and wrong. You’re just processing the awfulness of this all, that’s all. Your brain is trying to make sense of this betrayal in the only way it knows how.

But it also makes sense considering what you and Quentin were, before. You can still remember how soft the first kiss between you two was, something tentative and sweet. He cupped your face that first time, stroking your cheek with his thumb like he was trying to remind himself you were real.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms, once. There was even an inkling of a future with him in your mind. Maybe that’s why you lash out so much. It’s true that what he has done is evil, but to be truthful you’re more scared and disgusted by yourself.

After everything, part of you wants to love him, the real him. Because he has to be in there somewhere, doesn’t he? You want to salvage this awful, terrible thing even after he tortured you. You wonder what there is to say about it. Perhaps it’s just you clinging to what little reality there is left, even if that reality is a false one.

The water has run cold. You turn the knobs to shut off the flow and wrap yourself in a towel. There’s a lot to think about. You dress silently, and say nothing as you stare at the television for a while.

“I’m not sure how much of this isolation I can take.” You whisper suddenly. “We’ve gone full to circle to having… that sort of dream after everything that’s occurred.” You say even quieter, “What if I’m starting to need someone?”

You look up from your seat on the bed at the television. “I think you’ll be okay.” You try to say reassuringly. “The nightmares aren’t so bad that you can’t sleep afterwards, you still have an appetite...” You trail off.

You nod, and bite your lip as tears start to fall. You have those things, for now. But even trying to be hopeful about things working out somehow just hurts in the end.

[the-everlasting-dream]

Cookies - The Perfect Cliche Part 3

A/N: Wow okay its been a YEAR since I’ve touched this but better late than never right? Idk who’s interested still so I’ll tag a few people. 

Tags: @ooo-barff-ooo​  @saivilo​  @burnsoslow​ @client-327​ @i-miss-trr​ @gkittylove99​  @tinkie1973 

‘Bitch you did what??’ 

‘I know I know,’ Elizabeth mumbled around the spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, dragging a hand down her face. ‘It just happened I just reacted and… I didn’t mean to hit him in the face.’ 

‘Yeah no one means to hit their insanely hot neighbour in the face,’ her best friend replied sarcastically. ‘What did he say? He must have been pissed!’ 

Elizabeth hesitated as she scooped another mouthful of raspberry ripple into her mouth, straight from the tub. ‘He actually let me use his shower after that.’ 

‘WHAT?!?’ Athena’s screech was loud enough to break the sound barrier and her eardrums. ‘You mean to tell me that you were naked in that man’s apartment while he was also in that same apartment? How did you not get laid?’ 

‘Are we forgetting how just moments ago I’d hit him in the face with a wooden spoon? And I feel so bad about that,’ Elizabeth rushed on before her friend could get a word in. ‘I made him cookies.’ 

‘Cookies?’ There was a snort over the line. ‘What are we twelve?’ 

 ‘What was I supposed to do? Offer him sex instead?’ She winced immediately, knowing she shouldn’t have given Athena the opening.   

‘You know I would have. At least if I was still single of course.’ 

‘What would you be doing if you were still single?’ A male voice could be heard in the background of the call followed by a string of giggles which Elizabeth could only assume was from his ticking his girlfriend. ‘Hey Liz.’ 

‘Hey Damien.’ 

‘Ready for the interview today?’ 

‘As I’ll ever be I guess.. I mean its just for the bar down the street.’ 

‘You’re gonna crush it babe,’ Athena chirped enthusiastically. ‘Go in there and give em Cece from New Girl vibes.’ 

‘Yeah we’ll come celebrate with you after,’ Damien promised. 

‘Thanks guys, I gotta go or I’ll be late,’ she replied, shrugging on her jacket as they chorused their goodbyes. Giving herself a once-over in the mirror, Elizabeth put on her most winning smile before grabbing the plate of cookies off the counter. Loudly knocking twice on the identical door from hers across the hall, she set them gently on the floor before rushing off to her interview. 

  - 

We have to talk. Tonight 8pm.

The single text message no doubt forecasting impending doom lit up Drake’s phone screen from where he’d left it that morning on the kitchen bench top. Cursing himself for forgetting it, he’d rushed back home to pick it up on his lunch hour, only to find a plate of cookies at his doorstep. Now it and the handwritten Sorry again! note from his neighbour Elizabeth — he could tell by the spider drawing — lay forgotten to the side as he ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. 

Kiara was mad. Again. He’d fucked up again. Somehow. No amount of wracking his brain would do him any good now. Just when things were starting to improve, or so he thought. All he seemed to be doing was making her mad lately. 

Absentmindedly, Drake shoved a cookie in his mouth before thinking better and grabbing the rest to eat on the long trek back to the office. - ‘You got the job!’ Athena wrapped her friend in a bear hug. 

 Elizabeth chuckled wryly, ‘Its just a bartending gig, Thee.' 

‘Still! Its your first big girl job you got by yourself. No longer a debutante of the north, we’ve got a working city gal over here!’ 

 ‘Complete with a shitty boss and everything. Did you know he asked me if this is the highest neckline I own?’ 

Athena wrinkled her nose as they continued down the street. ‘Ew are you sure you want to work there babe? You know I could get you  a job at my magazine place right? Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.’ 

Elizabeth was already shaking her head. ‘Thanks again but no thanks. Like you said this is my first real job that I’ve gotten myself. If I’m going to be independent, I’m gonna have to take my chances.’ 

‘Well you’re a trooper,’ her friend announced, linking her arm through hers. ‘Anyway, this calls for a treat. Lets go out tonight! But first can we stop by your place? I gotta pee so bad.' 

-

Getting dolled up together was something Elizabeth didn’t realise she’d missed. Athena had moved to the city years ago and she was starting to think she should have done the same. 

 ‘C’mon Liz! D and Nadia are already waiting,’ her best friend yelled from where she was scrolling through her phone on the couch. 

 ‘I’m coming!’ she yelled back, applying that final coat of lipstick before pressing her lips together to make that perfect pout. Just as she stepped out of the bedroom, there was a knock at her door. Athena gave her a quizzical look before leaping up to answer it as she reached back into the room to grab her other earring. 

 ‘Is Elizabeth here?’ 

She poked her head out to see Drake leaning against the doorframe, tie hanging loosely around his neck, offering her a half smile. 

 ‘Oh.. Hey Drake.’ Her voice was breathy as she crossed the living room, trying to ignore Athena who was furiously mouthing something probably inappropriate from behind the door where her neighbour couldn’t see. 

He handed her the plate. ‘Thanks for the cookies. Came in handy today.’ 

Elizabeth swallowed as their fingers touched for a moment. ‘You’re welcome. I’m glad they did. So… um you done with work?’ 

‘Yeah. Might head out for a bit later. You look like you’re on the way out yourself.’ 

‘Yeah,’ she chuckled. ‘I got a new job so my best friend is taking me out to dinner.’ Why was she telling him this? Why would he care? 

 Drake nodded. ‘Well I’ll leave you to it.’ 

‘Thanks. And again I’m so sorry about the…’ Elizabeth gestured awkwardly at the fading bruise on his face. 

 ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he called over his shoulder, retreating back into his apartment. 

 She’d barely closed the door, before Athena pounced on her. 

'That’s him?? Thats the guy?!?' 

'Thats him.' 

 'You hit him in the face.' 

 'I did.' 

'I can’t believe you hit him in the face.' 

'I know.’ 

Athena suddenly shoved her roughly. ‘You should have invited him out with us! He said he was going out a little later anyway. C’mon girl!’ 

‘I can’t! He has a girlfriend for starters!’ 

 ‘Who from the sounds of it is halfway out the door!’ Athena licked her lips. ‘Did you hear his accent? Soooo sexy. Must be some kind of European..’ 

‘Beats me,’ Elizabeth deflected. 

 ‘Imma beat your ass if you don’t snatch him up soon,’ her best friend threatened playfully as they grabbed their bags. ‘Now come on Nadia’s already sent me seven text messages.' 

-

‘Whatever it is Kiki, I’m sorry,’ Drake began even before he entered Kiara’s lavish penthouse. ‘Its not you, its me. I’ll do better I promise.’ 

The elegant diplomat gave him a pointed look before turning on her custom Jimmy Choo’s as she lead him further into the apartment. ‘That’s just it Drake, I don’t think you can do better.’ 

His brow furrowed, shoulders sagging. ‘What do you mean?’ 

‘You heard me,’ she replied almost nonchalantly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. ‘I just got a call from Sara Burton, Alexander McQueen’s creative director. She’s uninvited me from her fashion show next week. The same fashion show I was supposed to take Princess Marguerite of Monaco to as part of our efforts to broker a trade with her country. Do you want to know what reason Ms Burton gave me?’ 

She barely paused, steading herself against the mantlepiece before continuing on. ‘She told me that you were drunk at her show last week and told one of her aides that her entire collection looked better as fishing tackle than as clothes.’ 

Drake snorted without a hint of remorse. ‘I stand by what I said. No one on God’s good earth needs a fishnet jumpsuit. No one.’ 

 He instantly regretted the words as Kiara’s face flushed with anger. 

‘Mon Dieu! You don’t understand! You never did! This is not about the outfits, its about grace and finesse and being strategic in what you say and do. My parents warned me about you. They said you couldn’t handle the pressures of the nobility and sooner or later you’d only bring me down with you.’ 

He tossed aside the roses and chocolate, a belated peace offering. ‘Bring you down? Is that all I am to you Kiara? An accessory to your status? A means to an end?’ 

Her eyes narrowed in fury. ‘Don’t you do that! Don’t you dare twist my words like that when I’ve done nothing but make you comfortable with who I am for our entire relationship.’ She sucked in a ragged breath. ‘You think yourself above all the flattery and finery, living by your own rules but what your arrogant ass forgets that some of us make our livelihood to protect king and country this way.’ ‘

Don’t hit me what that holier-than-thou bullshit now,’ Drake interjected. ‘You know just as well as I do that shit is just a farce. Just ass-kissing and brown nosing your way to the top to get where you want to be.' 

‘If that’s what you think I do, then you never knew me at all,’ Kiara declared with finality, tears shining in her eyes before she turned away from him. ‘Let’s stop fucking pretending, shall we? We’re way too different for this to work. Everyone else can tell. We’ve only been fooling ourselves for the last three years.' 

‘Kiara…’ He came up behind her, so close but not touching. Was she really doing this? 'How did we get like this Kiki?’ He asked, barely daring to whisper. ‘Surely we can figure this out...' 

‘We can’t.’ When she spoke, her tone confirmed what he knew all along. ‘What we had died out a long time ago.' 

 ‘Kiara please..’ Drake could hear the desperation in his voice now. ‘Please don’t do this.’ 

 ‘It’s done, Drake. We’re done.’ 

 ‘Ki-‘ 

‘Please leave.’ 

She didn’t even turn around. Drake hesitated for a moment before obeying. In the elevator, frustration broke and he punched the walls hard enough to make the lights flicker. As soon as the bell dinged for the ground floor, he headed towards the nearest bar. 

- Elizabeth was still smiling when she unlocked the door to her apartment. She had needed the dinner with her friends more than she’d realised. Now for a goodnights sleep before her first shift at the bar tomorrow... 

A loud banging on her apartment door woke her up hours later, shaking her out of a deep sleep. Her bleary eyes found the clock reading 1.51am. More banging followed by someone yelling. 

 This is how I die. Alone in avocado pjs, strangled to death in my own bed by a lunatic who’s probably the Zodiac killer reincarnated. 

Whoever it was didn’t seem to plan on stopping. She debated with herself for a moment longer before hastily reaching for her robe, turning on each light in the apartment as she passed it, grabbing a wooden spoon for good measure as she passed the kitchen. The sounds were clearer now, it almost sounded like someone was moaning in pain. As she inched closer Elizabeth was able to hear a word, a name. 

 'Kiara..' 

Why did that name sound so familiar? 

 Just then her door handle started jiggling and she brandished her weapon more fiercely ready to strike. Before she had time to react, it burst open to reveal... her neighbour Drake. 

Clearly drunk off his face, he stumbling into her living room, swearing as his shoulder caught against the doorframe. The impact sent him teetering precariously but somehow he still managed to keep his balance, moaning out Kiara’s name as he peeled off the henley he was wearing. Wrestling to take it for a second, is knees buckled and he sprawled face first onto her couch. 

 Elizabeth remained frozen and to anyone passing by must have looked quite comical, standing shock still in her pyjamas, hair in a messy bun and eyes bleary from sleep with wooden spoon raised in the air above her head. It wasn’t until Drake let out a snorting breath that she was shocked out of her stupor. 

Ohmigodohmigodohmigod. What the hell just happened? 

Her very attractive neighbour was on her couch, shirtless and blackout drunk at 2am. 

What the hell New York?? 

Elizabeth did the first thing she could think of. She dialled Athena then immediately hung up. 

 Its freaking 2am woman. Get a grip. 

 Taking a deep breath, she shook her head coming to her senses that there was nothing she could do about it now. Placing a glass of water and an aspirin on the table beside Drake, she turned off all the lights and crept back to her bedroom, shutting the door for good measure. - He must have forgotten to close the damn blinds again because it felt like the sun itself was shining on the other side of his eyelids. His head was already throbbing and when he swallowed, his throat felt like sandpaper. Blinking grains of dust out of his eyes, Drake gradually came to his senses and his vision cleared to reveal the words of a graphic tee with an avocado on it, reading Hardcore. 

  Wait… This wasn’t his apartment! 

He shot up to a sitting position, the action making him nauseous as the pounding in his head only intensified. 

 ‘Rough night?’ 

A woman’s voice took him by surprise and with effort he turned to see the owner of the avocado shirt, his neighbour Elizabeth sitting on the armchair across from him...

[gyllenhaalics]

Perks of Being Good - Prologue

Pairing: Mob boss!Jake x reader, hitman!C.Evans x reader Summary: Your father died taking a bullet for one of Jake’s men. So naturally, you take your father’s place as an associate. And Jake honors your father’s last wish by protecting you. He might have gone a little too far with his protection. Disclaimer: I do not own anyone whose name appears in this story. Word count: 1500

Warning:  Innocent/corruption kink, fingering, dirty talking, daddy kink, p0rn with plot (that you can ignore).

A/N: This is for my Smut Therapy, a mini-series that’s mostly just smut, to help me (and anyone who needs it) with stress. The list of warnings will get longer as we get to the main part, as noted in this POST.

Dedicated to: @realovesthings​ my username buddy @gyll-yee-haw​ you inspired me to write this, thank you so much @angelic-holland​ & @gyllenwh0re​ I thought of you while writing this, thank you for all the smut you’ve written for all of us (I hope you’re okay with me tagging you)

You pulled yourself to the corner, shivering, trying to cover your body as much as you could. You bit your lips to block the whimper bubbling inside your throat. Your eyes couldn’t move away from the man standing in the middle of the room.

“Didn’t know the old man has such a cutie of a daughter.”

“Have some respect for the dead, Evans.”

You realized they were talking about your father as the tall, well-built man named Evans walked around with his silenced pistol, kicking the bloody bodies to make sure there was no sign of life left. Several people broke into your apartment. They would have killed you if it wasn’t for these men.  You felt a pair of blue eyes pierced through you. He dressed in an all-black suit that accented the gold chain around his neck. You almost jumped when his coat touched your shoulders, and felt his lingering body heat wrapped around you.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. Once you calm down, I’d like to have a few words.”

…

It’s been several months after the incident. You’ve been an associate lawyer for Maggie since then. The job was passed on to you by your late father. Maggie handles the family’s legal businesses, and that means someone has to pay taxes. That is why you’re here at one of her property, which happens to be a porn set. At least the mistress spares you a small guest room for your desk, even though the walls are not sound-proof.

You bury your face in mountains of tax documents and property contracts, trying to ignore the dirty talking and heavy moaning. You clip the pages neatly together in a hurry. You only have to give this to Maggie, and then maybe you can ask her to let you go home early for the day. Jake can be here to pick you up at any moment.

“Ma'am, your document.”

You lower your voice and hand the paper stack to the woman behind the camera. She smiles and crooks her finger at you, asking you to come closer. You follow, with reluctance. It seems to be a threesome scene today, the actress lies across the sofa, resting her head on one man’s lap, nibbling on his cock, while the other man is penetrating her. Their hands roam all over her skin, tugging her sensitive spots as she lets out her ecstatic moan and squirms underneath them.

You must admit, for someone who has been here for months, you still get flustered every time they shoot a film. It would be a lie to say you have never watched porn, but Maggie’s works are different, women-oriented if one may call. They are not always gentle and sensual. Some of them are pretty rough.

“That’s a wrap! Somebody give my girl a glass of water.”

Maggie exchanges a few words with the crew and dismisses them soon after. She then turns to you, who have subconsciously hugged the paper stack like a shield.

“What do you think, honey? My offer’s still on if you’re interested.”

“I don’t think I can, ma'am. I’m not uh, experienced.” Blood rushes to your cheeks. Maggie has been offering you to be in one of her works. The pay is hefty and a dozen times more than being a lawyer for the mobs. But you can never see yourself doing it. You don’t know what Maggie sees in you that makes her so determined.

“Oh, honey. Innocence is a perk.”

Maggie brushes a strain of hair to your ear. Before you can process her words, you hear heavy footsteps behind you. You turn and see a man towering over you, still with his gleaming gold chain.

“Afternoon, Mr. Gyllenhaal.”

“Told you to stop calling me that.” Jake winces at your formality. “Maggie hasn’t been too hard on you, has she?”

“Jake, that’s you.” Maggie retaliates, amused at this whole situation.

Things between you and the boss started soon after he saved your life. Your father died taking a bullet for one of Jake’s men. So naturally, you take your father’s place as an associate. And Jake honors your father’s last wish by protecting you. He might have gone a little too far with his protection.

…

On your way back, you lean on Jake’s chest as he has his arm around your back, encasing you in a half embrace. As soon as you got in the car, he couldn’t wait for a second longer to have his hands all over you.

The driver acts like he doesn’t see or hear anything. As far as anyone can tell, you have been the boss’ lover for a while now. One can guess from the way he dotes on you, how he showers you with lavish gifts, or from that one time he had you warm his cock for the entire meeting and you were on the verge of tear because you couldn’t get your release.

“Heard Maggie was pestering you about being in her film?”

He whispers in your ears as he kneads your breasts through the blouse. He isn’t that rough, but the pressure is enough to make your breathing quickened. And you always love the feeling of his beard scratching on your skin. The tickling sensation always gives you butterflies in your stomach. You return his affection by caressing his thigh, inching closer to the visible bulge on his pants.

“Maggie’s been very kind to me. She was only joking.”

“Maggie doesn’t joke about her work, princess.”

Jake grabs your face with his free hand and makes your whimper softly. His lips cover yours in a passionate kiss, almost as if he wants nothing but to devour you whole. After breaking off the kiss, Jake places his fingers on your lips. You obediently open your mouth and take his fingers in as he has taught you. Your tongue swirls around his digits, trying to get them as wet as you can.

“Now, lift your skirt.”

He removes his fingers from your mouth, leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He looks down at your skirt, giving you the signal to not stopping. He watches in amusement as your trembling hands lift the fabric.

“No panties? And you’re so wet, princess. How filthy.”

But you were the one who told me to. You thought, but you’ve learned from your past mistakes to hold your tongue. Jake grips your neck and pins you down on the backseat. His index finger pushes its way into your bare pussy. It is so sudden you cannot hold back your whimpering.

“Hasn’t she told you? There’s a huge market for your type.”

Jake adds another finger starts pumping them in and out of you, slowly at first.

“Innocent and obedient. Look how well you’ve learned, princess. Inexperienced. Yet so sensitive that any stimulation is too much for you.”

He quickens the pace.

“Can never forget the first time I made you come. You couldn’t stop crying and shaking. Poor thing, how pathetic.”

He curls his fingers, finding your sweet spot. His thumb grazes on your clit. You shut your eyes, letting his biting words ravage your thoughts.

“So naive, you think Maggie is kind? One day, you’ll find yourself spreading your legs for a whole bunch of her goons. Or maybe that’s what you want?”

You shudder at his words. The thought is a little scary for you. That’s not a lie, but an oddly pleasant sensation builds in the pit of your stomach. You feel another wave of wetness leaks from your pussy.

“If you’d like to be a little whore, I can arrange that, princess. Maybe my next meeting, yes? You can warm my cock like the other day. Then, after we finish, I’ll let my men pass you around and use you like the fuck toy you are. And if you’re good enough, maybe they will have mercy on you and fill that little pussy up nicely. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

His voice turns deep and harsh, and his fingers are torturously fast. Your walls contract around him like crazy as you find yourself on the verge of orgasm. The filthy things he said, you know he wouldn’t let anyone touch you without your consent and his permission. But the thoughts alone are enough to bring you over the edge.

“Daddy, please let me come. I need to come. Can I-”

Jake pulls his fingers away. He brings his hand down and smacks at your clit. The combination of the sting from his strike and the sudden lack of stimulation almost drives you insane. He gathers you up into his arms and plants chaste kisses on your forehead.

“Not yet, baby girl. Once we’re home, you’ll be good for daddy and make daddy comes first. Then, and only then, you can come.”

You whine and punch at his chest. Though it probably feels like a mosquito bite to him.

“Don’t be a brat now, princess. Don’t fret. I have a surprise for you at home.”

…