#sometimes i just have to (HAVE to) take some time to reflect on stuff

[itspileofgoodthings]

you know what I’ve realized lately? that’s really helped? the axiom: it just doesn’t really make that much of a difference. Or at least it doesn’t when you’re talking about good things and not, like, doing good vs. doing evil. Big choices, little choices, decisions, decisions —it’s not just that they don’t matter in the grand scheme of things—because they do! —but just. It won’t make that big of a difference. Life will continue to be wonderful AND difficult, fascinating AND hopelessly mundane, full of roses AND thorns and all the other cliches whether you walk down one road or another. And you’ll get used to the joys and sick of the sorrows whatever they are, and you’ll be ungrateful and bored and dissatisfied in some measure some of the time and you’ll have to work on all the things you have to work on anyways and just. Yeah! It doesn’t make that big of a difference! Even the biggest things!

[abyssalpriest]

Damnit lev lmfao. I was thinking about Shiva wearing corpse ash being resonant for other reasons, something about his relationship with the Bright Skinned Ones and death and whatever. No, no. More fucking importantly: Oh I wonder why Shiva is known for. you know. wearing bodies. his appearance is a mass of bodies joined together. yeah

[aeide-thea]

like, someone posted an article recently that was like 'i didn't like these books because the main characters were women who slept with women but weren't sufficiently enlightened about it for me as a queer woman to feel Represented,' and i just felt like. i bet i wouldn't enjoy those books either, judging from the reviewer's description! but faced with a review that's like 'these characters had attitudes i found unpleasant'—iirc a tendency to ironic detachment and internalized fatphobia respectively, which, to be clear, i expect i would also find unpleasant! but those are attitudes that plenty of real young women do have; are we arguing it's only acceptable to tell stories about the sort of people we'd personally want to befriend?—'so i didn't find their stories nourishing,' it's hard for me not to think, okay, fair enough, but—should 'nourishing' really be the definitive metric for art? should 'savory'? an author's job is, after all, to make art, not food…

[alastorss]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.

a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.

You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.

There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.

The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.

And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.

For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.

"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.

He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.

"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.

You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."

Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.

He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.

You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.

Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)

"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."

'Or something?' he wanted to ask.

He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)

It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.

Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.

The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.

He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.

He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.

"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.

"I've come to join you, actually."

Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.

"You have a nice laugh."

He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.

You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.

"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"

Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.

"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.

"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.

Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.

All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.

His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."

"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."

Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.

~

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[strawberryseeded]

.

[avpdpossum]

can we talk more about avpd being a (proposed) schizospec disorder? because i almost never see that theory talked about but i wish it was. like…

avpd makes me censor my thoughts because i think someone might hear what i’m thinking and see what a horrible person i am on the inside or judge me for thinking embarrassing things.

avpd makes me so afraid of someone walking in on me doing something i Shouldn’t Be Doing that my brain twists background noise into the sounds of whispers and footsteps behind me.

avpd makes me so worried about people staring at me that in my peripheral vision, anyone near me looks like they’re already staring at me, and it’s only when i look at them directly that i realize they’ve been looking in a totally different direction the whole time.

avpd makes me so convinced of how much everyone must secretly hate me that i often start thinking everyone secretly wants to hurt me too, to the point where i’ve had panic attacks from a person walking too close behind me because i feel like they’re getting ready to attack me (when i haven’t had any kind of trauma that would create that fear), and the paranoia just serves to reinforce my need to avoid people.

avpd makes me lose my ability to speak or reduces it to nothing more than one word answers only when spoken to, turning the thoughts i wanted to express into a jumble that’s impossible to turn into words or just throwing them away completely and making my mind go blank, so i end up just staring at people silently or even acting like i don’t see them standing there at all (not on purpose but because my brain won’t let me engage with them).

avpd makes me look damn near emotionless around everyone but my safe person (and sometimes even around my safe person) because showing my emotions would be far too vulnerable for its liking, so it completely takes away my ability to express them.

and i could keep going! there are so many things i experience because of avpd that i’ve seen really closely reflected in the experiences of schizospec people. i don’t know how common these kinds of things are in avpd overall, but they’re a really prominent part of my experience with it, so when i found out that some research suggested it could be considered a schizospec disorder itself, that made so much sense to me! and i’d be so curious to see how many other avoidants have dealt with this stuff but haven’t talked about it because it’s never mentioned as being part of avpd.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Boy from Stevenage - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none, tooth rooting fluff, Lewis being vulnerable

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Felt like fluff was due, so totally self-indulgent nonsense I wrote after hearing bits of his speach for his GQ Awards.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

You leaned against the doorway as Lewis moved restlessly across the room, his brow furrowed with concentration. A braid kept falling into his face, and he kept tucking it behind his ear. He muttered to the reflection in the mirror, his expression serious as he practiced his speech for the GQ Awards ceremony, rehearsing it with the same intensity he would study race tracks.

A smile tugged at your lips. It was endearing, this nervous energy that usually only manifested before a race, and that so few got to see, filling the master bathroom of his NYC apartment. Tonight, however, the only race was against his stubborn desire to perfectly deliver his message.

When he finally sighed in frustration, you decided to fully enter the room. He caught your reflection in the mirror, and his face softened, the tension momentarily lessened.

"Hey," you tilted your head, offering a small smile.

He straightened, taking a deep breath. "Hi. How long have you been there?"

You shrugged, reaching for the fingers that gripped the marble. "A minute or two. Just… watching the master at work."

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "More like a nervous wreck."

He gestured vaguely to the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. "Do you think it's alright? I don't want to sound… pompous."

You reached out for him, turning his face to look him in the eye, your fingers smoothing the worry lines on his brow with your thumb. "Lewis," you started, your voice soft. "Nobody's going to think you're pompous. They're going to be captivated."

His eyes, the warm brown that stole your breath every time, met yours with a glint of nervousness. "You really think so?"

A soft smile and chuckle spread through your features. It was a challenge, putting your admiration for him into words. You weren’t one for grand gestures or over-the-top declarations. It was in the quiet moments, the shared understanding, the unspoken language that existed only between the two of you that you showed him how much he meant to you.

"They'll all be in love with you," you finally said, a loving spark in your eyes. "Just like I am."

He chuckled, a hint of relief washing over him. "Smooth, (Y/N)."

You took his hand, gently pulling him away from the mirror. "Come on," you said, urging him towards the plush armchair in the bedroom nestled by the window. "Let's forget about speeches for a while."

He followed willingly, sinking into the chair with a sigh as he dragged you down with him. You settled on his lap, pulling your legs comfortably on top of his on the stool. The city lights became a shimmering backdrop to your comfortable silence.

"I’m really proud of you," your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers danced on his chest and he looked out the window.

His hand automatically sought yours. You squeezed gently. "More than you can imagine," you admitted.

"Sometimes it all feels a bit overwhelming," he confessed, his voice raw. "The platform, the attention, the expectation to be a voice for everything."

"You don't have to be a voice for everything, though," you countered, your voice firm as he locked his gaze on your intertwined fingers. "But what you do choose to speak up about… that's what makes me so proud."

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face. "Even the stuff that makes some people uncomfortable?"

You let out a proud smile and a knowing giggle. "Especially those. You use your platform to speak when others won’t."

He squeezed your hand, gratitude evident in his tone and his eyes. "Maybe you should be writing the speeches after all."

You laughed, a soft sound that filled the room. "You just need to be reminded that you're Lewis Hamilton, not a nervous rookie on his first podium."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, his arms embracing you as he turned his head, placing a soft kiss on your temple. "Thank you, love. But we really need to get going," he whispered, just before he picked you up and put you back down on the armchair, heading back to the bathroom.

As Lewis got in the shower, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the crumpled speech in his hand. You knew he wasn't one to brag about his achievements, but a part of you yearned to understand the weight of the words he was struggling with.

Carefully, you reached out and picked up the paper. It was filled with Lewis's handwriting, edits scrawled across some lines. You scanned the opening, your heart swelling. It wasn't about self-praise or glorifying his victories. It was a heartfelt dedication to the countless individuals who had supported him on his journey, from his early days karting in Stevenage until now.

He spoke of his family, the unwavering pillar behind him, their sacrifices paving the way for his dreams. He mentioned his mentors and heroes, those who had nurtured his talent and those who had inspired him to push to be his best. He even acknowledged his rivals, the competitors that had honed his skills and fueled his relentless pursuit of excellence.

But then, there was a section that was heavily underlined, a paragraph riddled with question marks and crossed-out phrases. It was about the kids that he hoped to have inspired.

He wrote about the grounding effect they had on his own path. He spoke of how he, too, was an impressionable young boy, wishing for something greater.

You knew sometimes Lewis struggled to express his emotions openly, yet here he was, trying to articulate the depth of what it meant to him to be put on the same pedestal as his heroes.

It was the written proof of how much this award, how much this entire platform, meant to him – a chance to not just be Lewis Hamilton, the champion, but Lewis, the boy who had aimed for the stars and received the moon as a gift.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. You pictured the faces in the opulent ballroom, expecting a typical self-congratulatory speech from the motorsport legend. The surprise on their faces when Lewis poured his heart out, his voice thick with a vulnerability they wouldn't have anticipated, would be priceless.

He may be a titan on the racetrack, but here, in the quiet intimacy of the apartment, he was simply Lewis, the man who might fumble with expressing his emotions but whose actions spoke volumes.

As you two rode in the backseat towards the gala, the city lights morphing into a mesmerizing dance of colors, you snuggled closer to Lewis, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm.

"Hey," you whispered, tracing a finger across the back of his hand.

He jolted out of his thoughts, his eyes looking for yours. "Hmm?"

"You know," you began, searching for the right words, "you don't need to win over that entire room tonight. You just need to make that brave boy from Stevenage proud."

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[ataraxiaspainting]

The Floor is Breathing.

Yan Overhaul x F Reader. 

Synopsis: You feel like both the witness and the victim in an uncommitted crime.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking/non-consensual recording, mentions of binge eating, and some infantilization.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

You can swear that these white walls blink.

Something, somewhere here, has eyes that look you up and down – you feel its breath on the back of your neck when you fall asleep facing a wall, the only decorated wall you have ever seen in this facility, actually. 

You’re not crazy. You have to remind yourself day in and day out of that fact, but you’re not crazy; you know another living being is in here with you, watching attentively.

Overhaul – no, “Kai” is what he forces you to call him now, says that there are no cameras in your room, but your gut screams otherwise.

You asked if he was sure, once, two days or four days, or six days ago – it should still be recent as you did not feel as isolated as you do now – and he responded by saying if he really wanted to keep a closer eye on you, he would just become your new roommate.

You’re unsure as to if that was a threat. He seemed happy when those words came out of his masked mouth, so perhaps it was just some unfunny gest. He made those sometimes, especially when he tries to coax you into taking vitamins every mealtime. Those jokes were as dull as the light brown and white pills piled up in a little cup meant for dipping sauces. Perhaps it was repurposed or Kai had ordered some from somewhere or he has some restaurant under his control somewhere.

Somewhere so dirty and filled with sugar and oils and artificial coloring. You’d die for just a sniff of pizza being served at an all-you-can-eat buffet or deep-fried cakes being served at a pop-up carnival. If health inspectors didn’t approve of such spots, or at the very most give them a C rating, then Kai wouldn’t go within two blocks of them. Much less let you. You’d stuff yourself to the brim like it is your last meal and compared to the boiled chicken and rice and broccoli you were given daily, chips and cookies may as well be.

A call of your name makes reality come back faster than a slap to the face – and hurts just as much.

“I asked you something, sweetheart. What do you want to do today?” Kai asks.

He didn’t seem angry or irritated as he repeated himself. His voice was still soft and the way he taps his foot against the pastel pink heart carpet reflects that. Times like these almost make you wish you were deaf. The words feel rehearsed but also feel as though they are straight from the heart like the actor was passionate enough in reciting their lines or was grossly in love with the story of the show. 

“I don’t know,” Unlike Kai, you forget your script quite often – aside from that one saying.

“You don’t know?” He’s still smiling. You know it.

“No.” You murmur. He puts an elbow on the small white table, stabilizing his head with his gloved hand. “I don’t.”

“I have some ideas,” The feeling of dread makes your stomach drop. Or was it your heart? Lungs, perhaps? You don’t know how to breathe right now, after all.

“I… don’t know, Kai.”

“You said that already.”

For your sanity, you choose to look at your freshly remade bed instead of his eyes. The rabbit plush you were given on your third or so day here lays alone on top of your singular pillow. The bars surrounding the sides reminded you of a crib. You’re only allowed to put your legs over the railing when Kai comes to your room in the morning and you’re not allowed to get out by yourself; he grabs your hand to assist you.

“Do you want to know what my ideas are?”

You’re not allowed to say no to anything Kai suggests. It’s an unspoken rule, unlike the ones for your room. “Um… okay…”

“Well,” Kai begins, his other arm being laid out on the table. His palm is facing upwards and you know what that means.

Your hand moves towards his – you try your best not to flinch this time in response to his slight grip, but you fail.

Kai chooses not to notice it for now. Just a small treat for this morning’s hug.

“I was thinking we could go to my office. Just for a change of scenery.” His thumb moves back and forth across your knuckles. “We could bring your colored pencils or your book if you’d like. It’s still noon, so we have some time before your daily check-in.”

“Okay…”

*~*~*~*

You had opted for your book in the end, although you regret your choice now because two of the four walls in Kai’s office have windows, and just outside of them were uncrowded streets that lead up to small hills on either side. The hue of the grass was off – a dull brown – but considering it was about time for autumn to roll around, you didn’t judge. Not that you could, anyway.

Could you ask to go back and get your colored pencils? You attempt to dismiss the thought by imagining future possibilities. Kai seems to be working on his computer right now though, and the guards outside wouldn’t let you leave by yourself anyway.

To hell with it, you think. It’s fine. He won’t get mad. 

At least… you hope so.

You walk over slowly until you are nearly touching his left shoulder. “Can I please get my colored-”

It’s you, from different angles and at different times of day – even some videos of you before you were kidnapped. They are of you sleeping, of you eating, of you looking under your bed. They are of you putting on socks, of you microwaving dinner after a long workday, of you talking on the phone with friends for hours. They are long and short – you can see some of them even repeat. Oh fuck. Is there a camera in this room too, or-

Before you can continue analyzing, Kai slams his laptop shut.

“Go back to reading, sweetheart.” It’s an order – you know it from the way he does not blink and the way his arms cross. He didn’t want you to see his screen; that fact is as clear as a cloudless sky. “You can color another day, okay?”

[yasmindifference]

Cheer up prompt #27

An anon and @this-was-a-terrible-idea also requested #27! A popular number apparently lol. I hope you all enjoy! ♡

"--and then Mr. Browsten said that with all the, um, the hullabaloo that it wasn't fair to make us take a test, so he cancelled it."

Tim pauses for breath and Mom hums an encouraging noise. When Dad makes that sound, it means he's not really listening, but he knows Mom's paying attention, even though she hasn't stopped curling her hair. From where he's lying on her bed, he can see her reflection in the vanity mirror, and she's frowning just like he knew she would.

Mom doesn't approve of canceling tests, which means she doesn't approve of Mr. Browsten, because he cancels them all the time.

(Mom says tests are important to know where improvement is necessary. Mr. Browsten doesn't seem to agree.)

"So we watched a documentary instead and it was pretty interesting, it was about puffer fish! Sarah asked what puffer fish have to do with grammar and Mr. Browsten said that learning is its own reward, but I think he just didn't have anything else ready so he took something from Ms. Cappola instead. She's the fifth grade science teacher and I heard her classes watch movies at least twice a week."

Mom tuts, which Tim was expecting, and sets down her curling iron.

"Ridiculous," she mutters. "I don't know why we're paying that school so much in tuition when they can't be bothered to teach you anything. It's a miracle you ever learned to read."

"It's because I'm smart," Tim informs her helpfully, and Mom smiles her special just-for-Tim smile.

"You are," she agrees. "And thank goodness for that. Now, would my smart boy do me a favor?"

Because Tim's smart, he already knows what she's going to ask. He rolls off the bed to his feet. "Curling iron?"

"Yes, please." Mom rolls her chair away from the vanity so he can crawl under it to unplug the curling iron. She plugged it in herself, but that was before she was all dressed up in her expensive dress. "Thank you, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he chirps, crawling back out.

Mom rolls back in front of the vanity, but Tim stays where he is, kneeling next to it so he can watch her put her makeup on. There are a lot of different bottles and brushes and powders involved, but Mom never hesitates. Tim doesn't know how she keeps it all straight.

He likes watching Mom get ready to go out. Sometimes--like tonight--she lets him pick out the jewelry she's gonna wear, and then she chooses her dress and hair and makeup all based on what he picked. Even when the colors don't match, it all fits together like a puzzle...a puzzle she pieces together in seconds after Tim's impulsive choice.

It's really cool.

Tonight, Tim picked pretty, dangly earrings with some kind of red stone (ruby, Mom said when he asked), so Mom picked a black dress. She said it would make the earrings pop, which he didn't get until he saw her wearing it.

Now, he watches her choose lipstick as red as the earrings and asks, "Does the lipstick make the earrings pop, too?"

Mom finishes smoothing it on before she smiles at him. "You tell me."

Tim studies her. The lipstick matches the earrings, but it doesn't draw attention to them the way the plain dress does. He already watched her do her eye stuff, and her eyes look bigger somehow, but they're not colorful like they were when they all went to the opera last week.

"No," he decides. "You went new...neutral?" He waits for her slight nod of confirmation, then continues, encouraged, "You went neutral with your eye stuff and red with your lipstick to make your lips pop."

"Very good," Mom says, smiling. She cups his cheek briefly before turning back to the vanity. "Clever boy."

Tim beams and watches in fascinated silence as she uses some kind of powder. Even though he's staring right at her, he can't tell what the powder actually does. All he knows is that when she's done, her face looks...different. Still pretty, but kinda sharper somehow.

Makeup is like magic, he decides. No matter how many times he watches her get ready, he can never figure it out.

"Can I try?" he asks impulsively.

"Try what?" Mom asks, a little distracted. The cap on one of her bottles is stuck and she's struggling to open it.

"Your makeup!" Tim takes the bottle from her and opens it by using the hem of his shirt to grip it better. Mom can't do that, her dress is all shiny and slippery. "You look pretty, I wanna try."

Mom pauses and then smiles.

"I don't have long before I have to leave," she warns him, "but I don't see why not. Do you want to pick out some lipstick?"

Tim absolutely does. He levers to his feet as, across the room, Dad finally stirs. He's been reading some stuff his assistant from Drake Industries brought by earlier, ignoring them both, but now he says, "Janet" in a weird tone.

"Jack?" Mom asks, even as she directs Tim's attention to the little circles on the bottom of her lipstick tubes that show what color they are. She has a lot of options.

"Janie, really," Dad says. He sounds unhappy, and Tim looks up from comparing two different shades of pink to find him frowning. "You can't mean to let our son--"

He stops mid-sentence and Tim bites back a wince. Dad's in trouble; Tim hasn't seen that look on Mom's face since he told her about his last nanny giving him whiskey to help him sleep when he woke up from bad dreams.

"My son," Mom says very deliberately, "is welcome to express himself however he likes."

Is trying makeup expressing himself? Tim just wants to see if it makes him as pretty as it does Mom.

Either way, that's not a good tone. Tim looks down and concentrates really hard on picking out a lipstick.

"Janet," Dad tries again, weakly. He obviously knows he's in Big Trouble, but for some reason he hasn't apologized yet. Tim tries to psychically tell him to cut his losses and back down, but his telepathy apparently still hasn't kicked in, because Dad says, "It's just that--"

"Do you know what you want to try, sweetheart?" Mom asks, completely ignoring Dad.

Tim looks between his parents, decides to let Dad dig his own grave, and hands Mom the red he settled on.

(If it's the red that most closely resembles the red in Robin's uniform...well, it's not like Mom has any way of knowing that.)

"Excellent choice!" Mom says. She stands up from the vanity and pats her chair. "Take a seat."

Tim does, excited. He's not usually allowed to sit at Mom's vanity.

Lipstick, he learns quickly, feels really weird. He has to sit super still while Mom puts it on him, and it makes his lips feel weirdly heavy, like there's something on them.

Which there is, actually, so...he doesn't know what he was expecting.

Mom hands him a tissue so he can "blot" his lips, just like he's seen her do a million times, and then steps aside so he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"Whoa," Tim says, leaning closer. He makes a few faces, pushing his lips together and out, transfixed by how bright and noticeable they are. It doesn't make him pretty like Mom, but he likes how it looks anyway. "Cool."

Behind him, Dad throws up his hands and leaves the room. He's angry, Tim can tell, but Mom is smiling down at him, so Tim's not worried.

"Do you want to pick eyeshadow next?" she asks.

"Yes, please!"

Prompt #27 was experimentation! Well selected! ♡♡

[harrietswriting]

Hii! Could you do a dally x reader where he comes to pick her up for a date but she’s no where near ready, so he just comes up to her room to sit and watch her and looks through all her stuff and makeup? Thank you <3

an: Such a cute request thank you!! this took way too long and I don't even like it that much I'm sorry 😭 1.1k words. Please leave more requests

W: little swearing I think, flufff

Dallas Winston x fem!reader

He watches you get ready

You had woken up late.

You have a breakfast date with Dallas at 8:30 and you woke up at 8:06. You practically had a heart attack when you saw the time. Stupid alarm didn't go off! What the hell! Was it trying to sabotage your relationship? You had brushed your teeth, finished your skin care, and started to take your curlers out when your door bell rang. Oh God. You rushed to answer it. You were so embarrassed. You were panicky, flushed, in a robe, and had half of your curlers still in your hair. So, it was not a surprise to see the look of concern on your boyfriend's face when you opened the door.

"I'm so sorry! My stupid alarm didn't go off and I only woke up like 25 minutes ago," you say quickly, trying to explain your state. You felt awful.

"Woah, hey. It's fine." Dallas steps inside. "Go finished getting ready."

"It's going to take me a while." You say sadly.

"That's fine. Just means I get to spend more time with you." He says simply.

You can't help but smile. "Okay."

"Or you could just go like this. Its a great look." He teases, glancing at your hair.

You roll your eyes, but a smile is plastered on your face. "Be quiet. C'mon." You grab his hand and drag him to your bedroom. Once inside, you let go of his hand and side down at your vanity. You resume taking out your curlers.

Dallas sits down on the edge of your bed and watches you as you carefully brush you your curls then spray some hair spray on them. Then, you get out your makeup.

Dallas finds himself getting bored just watching you, so he gets up and walks over to your bookshelf. He studies the titles for a bit, recognizing books he's seen you read. You glance over at him as he opens your jewelry box and looks through it.

"What're you doing?" You ask as you watch him.

He turns his head towards you. "I don't know. Lookin'." He shrugs and turns his attention back to your jewelry. He a small smile appears on his face as he finds pieces he gave you.

"Okay." You look into your mirror again and resume blending your concealer.

Dallas fingers through your necklaces and bracelets for a few moments before getting bored again. He closes the jewelry box and walks over to you. He is about to talk to you when he spots your journal, so he picks it up and opens it.

It takes you a moment to notice what he did. "Uh- hey! That's my journal, Dallas." You reach for it, but he holds it out of your reach.

"So?" He scans a page and annoyingly smirks.

"So that's private stuff." You get out of your chair and try to grab it again, and this time, surprisingly, he lets you. What did he read?

"What?" You ask because his stupid smirk doesn't leave his face.

"Nothing." His smirk remains and his hands slide into his pockets. "You write sappy shit in your journal."

You blush a little and put your journal back. "Yeah, cause it's supposed to be private." You respond, sitting at your vanity again. "Now stop distracting me or this'll become a lunch date."

He sighs and mopes back over to your bed. He sits down again and looks at your reflection in the mirror. He thinks you are absolutely beautiful. God, he'd do anything for you, and that scares him sometimes.

"Hurry up. I'm hungry." He tells you.

"I'm sorry, Dal. I'm trying."

"Mhm." He messes with his ring for a bit before getting up and walking back over to you. He leans down and grabs your jaw. He kisses your cheek then lets go. You can't help but smile.

"You look damn good, babe." He runs a hand through your hair as you turn your head towards him.

"Thank you." Your heart picks up a little. "I'm almost done with my makeup, then I'll just need to change."

"Good. Chop chop, come on." He urges you.

You laugh a little and do the last of your makeup. Dallas watches with such admiration. You're gorgeous. When you finally finish and look at him, he can't stop himself from smiling.

"I'm done." You say

"Finally. Go get dressed."

You put your hands out. "Help me up, baby."

He huffs in protest, but he grabs your hands and pulls you up and against his chest. Dallas stares down at you. He finds your smile is so infectious. He grins back. You stand on your tippy toes and peck his lips.

"I thought I was supposed to hurry up, love." You squeeze his hands.

"You are." He lets go of your hands. "Go change, doll."

You let out a small giggle and start to walk toward the closet. You look over your shoulder at him. "I got a new dress a few weeks ago that I haven't gotten to where yet. It's real pretty."

He smirks at this, his ego spikes when he learns he'll be the first to see you in this dress. "I can't wait to see it, y/n."

You open the closet door and step in. You get out the dress. A cute baby blue cocktail dress with a white accent and a white bow around the waist. You come out and proudly hold it up.

"Put it on, doll."

"Okay." You go into the closet again and close the door, you take off your robe and slip into the dress. You were careful not to mess up your hair or makeup. A cute pair of white heels you hadn't wore in awhile catch your eye, so you slip them on. You open the door of the closet. Dallas has your journal in his hands again. He looks up and smirks.

"Sorry, doll. Couldn't help it." He puts the journal back then let's his eyes scan over you.

You sigh and decide to forgot it, for now. You smile again. "How do I look?"

He walks closer to you and his hands find your waist. "You look incredible."

Your face heats up and you look down, your smile remains.

"Ready to go?" He puts a hand on your chin and gently lifts your head to have you look up at him.

You nod. "I'm sorry again that i wasnt ready and-"

"Sh, baby, I don't care."

You shyly smile, glad he doesn't care, and loving being called "baby". He takes your hand and off you finally go to your breakfast date.

An: I'm so excited for Christmas I'm tweaking out. I love gift giving so much. Please leave requests! Happy holidays!!

[blackknight-kai]

Hi! Can I request a reader x Wukong or Destined one nsfw headcanons about the reader admitting they are into rougher things like manhandling, hair tugging andbiting?

Oooo okay! I think these two would differ a bit for sure. I’ll give this my best shot! I think if this was something you were into both of them would be down and fairly into it themselves. This can be seen as “once in a while” or “all the time” depending on your preferences!! I left it Gen Neutral :)

I personally head canon him, (DO/SW), as obviously intelligent and such but that he has some instinctual tendencies too from his animal nature that sometimes come out in moments like these. So expect some growling / chest rumbles. Slipping deeply into instincts on accident that kinda thing. NSFW WARNING MINORS DNI!!

Destined One:

- [ ] Would be hesitant at first mainly because it’s new

- [ ] I feel like (personally) he never gave sex and stuff much importance, his journey being top priority. So anything new added here is exciting but also nerve wracking - he’d only show that with his tail twitching nervously though

- [ ] Definitely into it and has thought about it before. He might have accidentally bitten you in the middle of sex before or almost did.

- [ ] Especially into it when he sees how into it you are. This would again reflect in his tail swishing with interest and his eyes narrowing and heavy breathing.

- [ ] Might need a little reassurance at first and would check in.

- [ ] Very conscious of how much strength he’s using at all times. Hes strong and wouldn’t want to truly hurt you.

- [ ] But, once he’s comfortable? Hes locked in.

- [ ] He’s going to pay attention to you and how you react so he’s going to know exactly how hard you like it. And exactly how much you can take fairly quickly.

- [ ] His instincts might come into play regularly too, wanting to mark you with bites or grazing your skin with his claws.

- [ ] He will leave finger bruises on your hips, thighs, wrists, etc from how tightly he’d hold on especially if he loses himself a bit to his animal nature. His grip on your body sometimes being almost too strong.

- [ ] Hes a biter. Once given the go ahead he’s definitely taking advantage of it because he craves nipping your skin or biting you as he orgasms. Especially if it makes you tighten up on him. He REALLY loves your neck, shoulders, and thighs.

- [ ] If he’s particularly amped up from you teasing him too much he might bite your asscheek so you have to feel it every time you sit down. The corner of his mouth would lift up in just barely a knowing smirk as you shift uncomfortably.

- [ ] Your hair will be pulled so he can have better access to your neck and shoulders for licking and biting.

- [ ] Would definitely grunt and curse under his breath right next to your ear as he nips it, pulling your head back by your hair.

- [ ] Biting would be controlled for the most part, he may accidentally bite too hard if hes too absorbed in his pleasure so he always tries to pay attention. But you probably have at least 1 bite mark that he licks and nips possessively when he can.

- [ ] He WILL manhandle you. There is a quiet dominance to him, if you tease him too much or he’s pent up OR hes got too much adrenaline going from a fight? Expect to be thrown over his shoulder without so much as a warning and taken to somewhere HE deems safe and private enough to have you. Even if that’s HIGH up in a tree.

- [ ] Will put you into whatever position he wants if you dont specify first or tell him you want something specific. Remember he is STRONG and can hold your weight easily.

- [ ] If you let him he will fuck you HARD - again especially if he loses himself to his instincts. His thrusts will be rough and demanding. Expect to orgasm as much as he can make you until he himself is done.

- [ ] Will always check though just before to make sure you’re still okay with the rough treatment, might have a specific look or uses a few words to make sure.

- [ ] He wants to hear you! So he will do what he can to make sure you’re loud for him.

- [ ] So soooo gentle with after care. He’d make sure to caress you softly and help you clean up. His tail would wrap around you comfortingly so you know he’s there as he takes care of you. Would cuddle you and hold you close to him as he gently kisses your skin.

Wukong

- [ ] Alight you asked for it. Literally. Be prepared.

- [ ] He is going to tease you. It that, “oh ho ho, cant get enough of me huh?” Kinda ways - his tail would swish with excitement though betraying his ‘cool’ attitude.

- [ ] Wukong has been around a long time, so he’d have impeccable control in certain situations with his strength and I feel like he’d FIND that control here. He does not want to hurt you. Ever.

- [ ] But.

- [ ] I feel like he would push your buttons. And I dont mean he’d want you to safe word all the time or something. He isnt toxic that way. But he is going to push you to find your limits so he can make it the best for you every time.

- [ ] At first he’d probably be a bit light on you, over time gaining more confidence in you and himself (which hed never admit that he was nervous about possibly hurting you).

- [ ] He’s gonna coo at you and tease you all fucking night as you guys are going at it though.

- [ ] VOCAL. Does NOT shut the hell up. His mouth is FILTHY.

- [ ] Wukong will know your body and he is going to know it well.

- [ ] Expect your hair to be pulled and your head turned this way and that as he teases you and talks to you.

- [ ] The way you tighten up on him and moan as he pulls on your hair pleases him and hed make sure to experience that often enough.

- [ ] Outside of sex hes gonna pull your hair just to fuck with you (edge you) or make you impatient.

- [ ] He is going to suck, nip, and lick you from your toes to your head.

- [ ] Your nipples are going to be his fav to nip/suck at and pull at with his fangs (not too hard of course)

- [ ] You 100% have a scar from him biting you somewhere on your body that he will touch randomly because no one else but HIM & you knows it’s there.

- [ ] Might bite the back of your neck to keep you in place just before he orgasms even though his hands are keeping you in place as he fucks you so damn hard. His tail would be wild here LOL

- [ ] Your chest and thighs are LITTERED with bites and bruises from him sucking on your skin. If your on your knees/pressed down face first your back doesnt escape his mouth.

- [ ] Your leg also might wear a mark from his tail wrapping around you so tightly.

- [ ] He is careful with his claws - but on the off chance he loses himself to his instincts OR you say its okay, he might dig them in a little too hard and now you have ten little scares on your skin.

- [ ] He is a KING. He is going to move you exactly where he wants you. Don’t forget how strong he is and how much control he has over it.

- [ ] He will contort you as he sees fit as his hips slam into you over and over. Your weight is NOTHING to him.

- [ ] Might listen to your request for a position but he will make you ask for it multiple times or hed take his time and THEN get to what you wanted from him.

- [ ] Outside of sex if you push him too much or tease him too far he’s going to smile wide, fangs on display before carrying you off - dont mistake this though he will make you scream for him and wont give two fucks who hears you. The sight of you though is for his eyes only.

- [ ] Your ass? Hah. It’s going to be bright red with HIS handprints.

- [ ] Later he’s going to brush his tail across your ass as you walk (wobble LOL) just to watch you shudder from being so raw and sensitive.

- [ ] Expect to be done when he says you’re done. He demands your pleasure. It’s not a request. DEMANDS you give him as much as you can. Orgasm city if he can help it and time allows.

- [ ] He will be so good to you after and will make sure to pamper his mate like any king would. In moments like these he’s especially tender and would make sure to rub you down and get you water. He’d lick any wounds he made (and tend to them). Praise you, all that lovely stuff! His tail would brush up and down your skin soothingly and comfortingly.

[aurumalatus]

YOU ARE THE ONLY THING

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ (THAT'S EVER MADE SENSE TO ME)

wc. 5k chapter warnings. angst, cursing chapter summary. the memory of you haunts kinich wherever he goes, a perpetual existence in his life. but when he sees you again by chance, he takes the opportunity to try to right his wrongs. author's note. the first chapter of many...this is gonna be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, a lot of stupid mistakes and forgiveness and moving on and all that good stuff. pls lmk what y'all think! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

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MAYBE WE DON'T TALK ENOUGH. [1]

The graduation ceremony had been lovely, Kinich is sure.

If he had actually been paying attention to any of it, he might’ve even had fun. The field had been decorated with an array of balloons and flowers reflecting your school colors. Countless tears are shed and hugs are exchanged—he knows this might just be the last time he sees some of these people for the rest of his life. In a way, it’s a tribute to the childhood he’s spent here.

He scoffs, kicking at the dirt. To hell with that.

Because while everyone else had been grinning widely, proudly cheered on by their families, all he could do was stare at the empty seats in the stand. Unfulfilled promises swirl madly in his mind; the congratulations that people offer him in passing just slip in one ear and out the other.

So when you approach him, one hand outstretched as you shyly ask him to talk alone, all he can do is follow, blankly staring at the back of your head.

“Kinich, I have something to tell you.”

/

Kinich feels the remnants of you when he runs, sweat sticking to his skin and cold, biting air filling his lungs in a single breath.

Mid-stride, he zips his windbreaker to his neck, watching his breath dissipate like ice. The wind feels so much more piercing when he runs—it stings at his skin and his teeth. Fallen leaves crunch underfoot, a blanket of color over the edges of the field. Autumn always makes him feel melancholic—change always makes him feel melancholic.

Each step pounds heavy in the grass, picking up speed. His teammates know that he likes to run alone, just him and his contemplation—though Aether claims that it makes him a crazy person—and these are the rare times that he can just think.

Running comes naturally to him. Thinking does too, but not like this.

Most days, he tries to stay busy enough to avoid the thoughts. When he’s busy, there isn’t time to reflect on the past, there isn’t time to regret. Being team captain and taking as many credit overloads as he does means that he can stay ahead of the impending waves of guilt.

But when he runs, and it’s just him and the sound of his footsteps, memories of you start to creep in.

They say grief comes in waves, and he believes that must be true—you’ve always been a tide, ebbing and flowing into his life. That much was a constant, even when you weren’t. 

(Or, even when you ceased to be.)

He can go about a few weeks without thinking about you, as far as he’s tried. And he means really thinking about you, not just a brief thought relating to you, or your life, or your memory—he’s not sure he could last even ten minutes that way. Over the years, you’ve become so tightly intertwined with his being that he’s not sure he could ever untangle that connection fully.

His laptop password had been your birthday for years after you left. He still makes his tea the way you taught him, with lemon and just a spoonful of honey. Your shared playlists still haven’t left his Spotify library.

He sighs. Three years is a long time.

It’s long enough for most normal, well-adjusted people to grow out of their past relationship, or at least not be wondering about them for a majority of the day. And that’s if he can even call what the two of you had a relationship—it had been something, and it was his fault that it wasn’t anything more.

Sometimes, he just wonders where you are and what you’re doing.

It’s a sick sort of thing to ponder, especially knowing what he did to you, but he can’t help it—often, he sees you in everything.

He wishes that wasn’t the case.

A part of him wishes he could strike you from the history of his existence. Another part of him wishes he could see you again, just once.

“Sorry for calling you out here! I just thought if I didn’t tell you now, I might never tell you…”

“Kinich!”

He flinches halfway through his step, the echo of your voice fading somewhere in the back of his mind. When he skitters to a stop, he realizes it’s his coach yelling his name, one hand cupped at his mouth and the other frantically waving his clipboard. He gauges the distance between them—lost in his thoughts, he had run about 200 feet straight past the other man.

Flushing in embarrassment, Kinich jogs back to meet him.

“Sorry about that,” he pants. “Was just thinking about one of my exams.”

There’s a pause, like Coach Wayna is deciding whether to ask questions or let it go—Kinich isn’t usually one to lose track of himself, after all. Still, the man seems to land on the latter.

“Well, nice hustle,” he praises, rewarding him with a strong clap on the shoulder. “Get some water and wash up.”

He slaps a towel into Kinich’s outstretched hand—he accepts gratefully, slinging it over his neck and scrubbing the sweat off his face. 

He glances up at the graying sky. The clouds are coalescing into mismatched swirls—maybe it’ll rain tonight, he thinks vaguely. It doesn’t usually stop them from practicing anyway. He can recall a number of times that he has walked home drenched in mud.

“Already? It’s early, isn’t it?”

At this time of year, practices don’t usually end until the sun kisses the horizon, dipping and dimming. Kinich usually walks back to his apartment with his roommates at dusk, Aether’s whining carrying them home.

Coach Wayna is busy watching the other guys run, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“We’re letting out early today,” he shrugs.

Licking over his lips, Kinich tastes the salt pooling at his cupid’s bow, lungs heaving.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, raising a brow.

Looking out over the field, he watches the rest of his teammates finish their sprints. Aether is messing around again, trying to leapfrog over Xiao’s back, much to the latter’s irritation. Gaming seems to find the sight amusing, based on the way he whoops and cheers.

Kinich sighs, shaking his head—Aether is lucky that he’s as talented as he is.

Coach Wayna laughs, a guffawing sound that resounds deep in his chest and across the field. He’s a good-natured guy, really, if not a bit more patient than Kinich himself can manage.

“The occasion is that you guys are college students,” he explains, “and sometimes, I’m willing to let you enjoy your lives a little bit.”

A half-scowl crawls over Kinich’s lips. Coach Wayna is always on them about enjoying their lives outside the sport, just like everyone else in Kinich’s life. His friends have always been determined to get him out of his bedroom and get him participating in something that isn’t his clubs. It’s irritating sometimes, to say the least.

Kinich’s tongue runs dry, so he pads over to the cooler, throwing the top open and pulling a water bottle out to shake off the excess condensation. It’s nice and cool, a welcome sensation even when the air is colder than usual—internally, his skin thrums with heat.

He gets about halfway through the bottle by the time his teammates make it over, in various states of exhaustion. Aether is first to react, letting out a loud groan and flopping to the ground dramatically.

“Coach, are you trying to kill me?” he whines, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Xiao approaches Kinich directly, taking a water bottle from his outstretched hand.

“It’s your fault that you’re so tired,” Xiao deadpans, taking a swig and settling down in the grass. “Because you were late, the rest of us had to run extra.”

As kind as Coach Wayna is, he doesn’t let things like tardiness slide too often—Kinich’s legs burn as a firm reminder of that. Everything they do, they do as a team, which includes punishment.

“Blame Lumine,” Aether grumbles. “She forgot her keys, so I had to drop her off at work.”

Aether’s sister, as kind as she is, does tend to be a bit forgetful. But Aether is also irresponsible as hell sometimes, so there’s a 50% chance that he merely overslept. Xiao seems to silently agree, based on the way his brows knit together.

Coach Wayna has a short meeting with them to end practice, and Kinich half-listens—he’s still caught up on earlier. It’s only when Aether flicks him in the back of the head that he returns to earth.

“Hey, airhead, we’re going to Third Round Knockout,” he says, an order, not an invitation. Kinich scowls.

“You mean you’re going,” he corrects, packing up his duffel bag. “I’m going home so I can take an ice bath and forget this ever happened.”

He can count a number of other things that are infinitely more important than taking a single step in that greasy place, too. He has a few exams coming up to study for, a lab report to do, and a few logistics issues to resolve with his financial aid and scholarship. So really, he has no business going out at all.

But the thought grows more and more appealing the more his stomach rumbles. Aether seems to notice too, because he grins cheekily, slinging an arm over his friend’s shoulder.

“Just follow the sweet, sweet siren song of burgers and fries, and let it guide you home.”

Xiao sighs from where he sits on the bench, shaking his head—sharing an apartment with Aether and Kinich means he’ll likely get roped into this too. Aether goes around making his pitch to all their teammates, but most decline on the basis of being too busy or having things to do. Kinich thinks they’re just too exhausted to deal with Aether’s antics.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” Gaming whines, checking his phone. “I have an exam tomorrow and if I don’t study and sleep, I’m gonna fail for sure.”

Aether wags a finger in his face, grinning. “You don’t have to study, C’s get degrees!”

Kinich wonders if he should step in, knowing how easily influenced Gaming can be when it comes to Aether’s lax personality. He doesn’t have time to get the words out, however, because Xiao strides past with a critical side-eye. 

“Yes, and Aether’s get dropped from their university…”

“I don’t—hey!”

“Let’s just go,” Kinich sighs, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. Aether pouts, but follows his teammates off the field. 

“Fine, but Xiao’s treating!”

/

Third Round Knockout is exactly the type of place Kinich imagines college students to like.

It sounds strange when he words it like that, considering he is a college student himself, but he means a different type of college student—the type that finds cheap, greasy pizza and boisterous laughter enticing. Or perhaps anyone who finds the showy, race car-themed decor attractive (just how much money did they spend on checkered flags?), or thinks that spending your Friday night listening to pop music from low-quality speakers is a good time.

He doesn’t mean it in a really bad way, of course. He’s friends with college students like that (like Aether), and that’s the only reason he finds himself stepping past the threshold. Still, after a long day of practice, he can’t deny that sitting down for some food sounds pretty good right about now, even if that food comes cheap and deep-fried.

“God, I’m fucking starving,” Aether moans, collapsing into one of the booths in exhaustion. He flips one of the plastic-lined menus over, scanning over the food options. “I seriously think if I have to wait another second to eat, I’ll die.”

Xiao slides into the booth next to him, brows furrowed as he types away at something on his phone. “Seems like you’re always somehow on the verge of dying.”

Though his stomach grumbles, Kinich doesn’t bother looking at the menu—the food here is as standard as it gets, burgers and fries that drip with grease and milkshakes that are basically entirely comprised of sugar. But he reasons that he probably deserves this after the day that he’s had. 

Everything had been nothing short of exhausting. He had conditioning in the morning, followed by three exams back to back, then headed to practice right after. Needless to say, his brain is running on the fumes of the black coffee he downed in between his second and third lecture.

“You good, man?” Aether asks, poking at Kinich’s hand. “You’ve been looking like a zombie all day.”

Kinich figures that a zombie is probably an apt description for how he looks right now, in his ragged hoodie and old sweats. He hadn’t been planning on a night out, after all, but he’s not one to care for fashion even on a good day.

He merely mumbles back an “I’m fine,” thoroughly disinterested in discussing what he’s endured in the last twenty-four hours. He presumes that that’s just the life of a university student like him. The athletic scholarship is good, and he does enjoy playing with his teammates, so he’ll rest and recover and do it all again tomorrow, just like he always does.

Xiao and Aether start bickering over something on the menu, so Kinich takes that opportunity to zone out.

He blinks tiredly, gaze wandering—the bright, multicolored decor is almost too much for his weary eyes. People are drinking and grinding to the music on the dance floor across the room, the bass of the music so loud that he can feel it vibrating under his feet.

Sighing, he pinches at the bridge of his nose, trying to avoid a migraine.

He shouldn’t have come today. His mental to-do list only grows longer, and staying home would’ve been a far more efficient use of his time. Perhaps a part of him had felt guilty for how busy he’s been in the past few weeks—it’s actually been quite a while since he sat down with his friends like this.

“Alright, Kinich, you lose!”

The sound of his name pulls him from the depths of his mind to find Aether and Xiao staring at him expectantly.

“What?”

Aether nods to the counter, crowded with a swathe of people. “You have to go order. You were last to nose goes.”

Nose goes? Kinich’s face scrunches in disbelief. Sometimes, he feels more like a kindergarten teacher than a soccer team captain.

“Are you four years old?”

Aether tilts his head, a challenge. “Are you rejecting the sanctity of nose goes?”

Maybe he doesn’t feel so guilty for being busy after all.

Desperate, Kinich looks to Xiao for support, but the other man shrugs, as if to say I can’t deal with him either. Arguing with Aether is a guaranteed headache, so Kinich merely groans, begrudgingly rising from his seat.

“Whatever. Just tell me what you want, then.”

He sighs as he shoves through the crowd, passing through sweaty limbs and sticky floors. No one seems to pay him any mind, and he takes a few accidental elbows to the ribs. God, he wants to throw up.

The actual line for the counter isn’t too long, luckily. There’s only one or two people in front of him. 

He checks over Aether and Xiao’s orders in their groupchat. Aether’s order is a list about a mile long, while Xiao simply wants a single combo meal. Typical.

He thinks on his own order a bit, and he’s midway through creating a mental list about the pros and cons of getting french fries versus onion rings when he looks up again to gauge the wait time. His breath hitches as he realizes two things:

He’s next in line.

He knows the people at the counter.

One of them is Childe, donned in a white t-shirt and a dark leather jacket.

Kinich knows who Childe is just like everyone else—with how much his name gets thrown around on this campus, he’d have to be an idiot not to. Being the star quarterback of the football team, he’s as close to a celebrity as one can get around here. Plus, they have some mutual friends, but Kinich doesn’t really consider Childe a friend, per say. They’re acquaintances at best.

But Kinich doesn’t really care about Childe—he doesn’t know him well, never has, probably never will, and he’s not one to worry about people outside of his concern. No, it’s not Childe that draws his attention at all; in fact, he’s in the way of it.

It’s the fact that Childe is talking to you.

Kinich sucks in a breath.

He blinks once, thinking it may just be his exhaustion playing tricks on him, but you’re still standing there, smiling up at the other man.

Though he’d known that you applied to this school, he never found out where you actually ended up going—you’d blocked him on everything post-graduation, after all. It seems like some sort of sick sign from the universe that you would be here right now.

You’re wearing the Third Round Knockout uniform, he notes dully—so you work here. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re smiling and laughing with Childe, looking entirely too happy with his company. Kinich has talked to the ginger before, and he’s not that funny. 

Childe turns at that moment, seemingly finished ordering his food, before he lights up in recognition.

“Ah, Kinich, what’s up?” he greets, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey, nice game the other day! You’re fast as hell.”

If he were anywhere else but here, Kinich might’ve actually appreciated Childe’s compliment. But right now, he can’t even remember what game he’s referring to; instead, he offers a dry, tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks.”

He peeks around Childe’s arm—you haven’t noticed him yet, too busy counting bills and stuffing them into the register. You’re halfway through a yawn when you call out to him.

“I can help the next person, please!”

Childe shoots him a grin, waving as he steps past him to leave, and suddenly Kinich feels overwhelmingly vulnerable. It feels endless, the drag of your gaze as it turns up to him, falling to his face. Pure shock paints your features.

Something unearths in his chest, kicking up with dust that stings at the corners of his eyes. 

They bloom there, a wealth of feelings that wrap like thorn-lined vines around his heartbeat. Regret speaks the loudest—it screams from where it sits, panging with familiarity at the sight of your face.

“K—Kinich,” you greet once you recover from your initial shock, a rasp. There’s an audible lump in your throat, voice reedy and thin. 

You look even more beautiful than he remembers. That’s all he can think as his brain force feeds him a series of memories—images of hazy sunsets and half-empty spray paint cans and secrets shared between chapped lips. His entire youth is nearly synonymous with your name.

His eyes draw to your neck, the bareness of it; it makes his heart ache.

You toy with the silver chain swinging at your throat, shyly staring down at your feet.

Almost in slow motion, your hand slinks up to your collarbone, reaching for something that isn’t there. It has Kinich’s eyes fluttering shut for a moment, almost painfully.

“Hi,” he starts, sound barely crawling from his throat. “It’s been a long time.”

He waits, but he doesn’t know what for. A change, in expression, in tone, in something, a sign that you remember what the two of you were, or perhaps what you could’ve been. But you’re still blankly staring at him like he’s a stranger.

“Can I help you?”

Kinich forgets about the food entirely. He just can’t get over how different you look, sound, and are. It’s a stupid realization—obviously you would’ve changed in the last three years. But somehow, he feels like he’s been the only one rooted in place all this time.

“Sir?” you repeat pointedly. “Can I help you?”

He utters your name once, soft, then inches forward, an instinct. “Listen, I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you interrupt smoothly, devoid of warmth. You back away, defenses up; you’d expected this from him, clearly. “I don’t really want or need it.”

And it hurts to hear that, that you don’t really want or need something from him. Because that always used to be the case, used to be your normal—clinging to each other, wanting and needing and having each other. And though he doesn’t like to live in the past, this is one thing that Kinich is unwilling to let go of.

“Can I…still try?” he starts, hesitant. “To apologize?”

The music still pulses in his veins, in his hands, in his chest—it echoes in his ears as he awaits your reply.

Deep down, he knows he shouldn’t do this. He’d lost any right to pursue you years ago. And he’s certainly not the type to make emotionally-charged confessions in public, but he sees you and he wonders if you still remember his favorite color.

It’s messing with his head.

“Why would you?” Your tone is biting, words sharp as they’re flung off your tongue. “No offense, but we haven’t known each other for years. I don’t see a point.”

And though you’re right, the thought pains him—there had been a time when he was the only one who knew every part of you, and you of him. But you’ve changed so much, you both have, and the evidence is standing before him.

Your eyes fill with frost. His mouth grows dry with regret.

“I know, but at that time, I—”

“You avoided me for months, Kinich,” you cut in quietly, thumbing at the edges of your sleeves. He knows that habit—you always do it when you’re nervous. “Forgive me for thinking that meant you wanted nothing to do with me.”

The bitterness leaks into your voice. You’re trying to be indifferent, but the resentment still feels raw.

And he deserves that, deserves this, he knows; he’s made a lot of mistakes when it comes to you. He more than anyone knows how much he fucked up, and if he could take it back, he would do so in a heartbeat. But he can’t, and your dull eyes and bare neck are evidence of that.

“You’re right,” he breathes, then swallows, gathering himself. “I’m sorry.”

You clear your throat, looking for something else to busy yourself with—anything to avoid eye contact. 

“You don’t have to be.”

Despite your words, the misery is written across your face, like you’re reliving every single moment of that day. And, of course, you have no way of knowing, but he wonders if you realize how often he relives it too.

“Now that we’ve graduated, I just thought you should know…”

Kinich feels completely out of his element, pinned in place.

He wonders what he even wants out of this whole interaction. Your anger? Your hatred? Would it have made him feel better than your disinterest? His fist clenches.

Say something. Don’t let it repeat itself.

It’s always been his vice—he doesn’t think he’s a stupid person, but he does think he’s a quiet one. And sometimes, that comes back to bite him in the worst moments. When he thinks back on the moments he’s shared with you, he can recall so many times that he could’ve said something. And maybe it wouldn’t have saved you both, but what if it would’ve?

You’re sighing in resignation, looking over his shoulder to call the next person when he speaks, hasty. 

“If you ever want to talk about what happened, we can. I can.”

It reeks of desperation, and he has half a mind to be embarrassed, but the feeling doesn’t surface. Instead, he catches a flicker of budding hope in your eyes, a wink of familiarity that has his heart slamming against his ribcage. 

Your lips form the shape of his name, and Kinich finds his breath.

“I like you, Kinich. A lot. For a while now. And, if you’ll have me, I’d like us to be together.”

“What’s going on here?”

Too focused on your expression, Kinich fails to notice the older man sneaking up behind you, a stern frown on his face and arms crossed. You cringe at the intrusion, already struck with a sense of foreboding. 

You whip around, hands drawn meekly to your chest.

“Sir,” you squeak out, a nervous giggle escaping your throat, “I was just—”

“We’ve already talked about this,” your manager hisses, a contrastingly serene smile on his face. “This would be your third strike.”

Despair creeps onto your face, and Kinich finds himself drawn forward, hand outstretched.

“Wait, sir, please. It was my fault. She was just—”

Your boss fixes Kinich with a sour glare, looking him up and down—his lip curls into disapproval when he sees the tattoo on his arm. 

“Don’t make excuses for your friend.”

Everyone around stares at the commotion—when Kinich glances back, Xiao and Aether are watching, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

“You’ve had enough chances,” your manager starts, deceptively saccharine-sounding.

He looks between the two of you, spiteful. Kinich’s heart drops like a stone. 

“You’re officially fired.”

/

“Wow, you fucked up bad.”

The next day, Aether’s unhelpful commentary is nearly drowned out in the general noise of the quad. 

Fluffy clouds half-obscure the sun above, leaving a permeating warmth and a relaxing breeze. There’s an extensive crowd of students spread out across the grass, studying and laughing and chatting. It would be a beautiful, enjoyable day, if not for Kinich’s overwhelming guilt and the irritating sound of Aether scarfing down his lunch.

And while the blond’s remarks are unhelpful, they aren’t necessarily wrong. Recounting the whole event just makes him more aware of how idiotic he had been. Kinich rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration—he just can’t stop making mistakes when it comes to you.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he admits, absentmindedly pulling at the blanket beneath him. “I just wanted to talk to her.”

After the incident, your manager had disappeared with you into the back, likely to work out the details of your termination. You threw him a last glance over your shoulder, eyes pouring with regret—whether it was regret that you had been interrupted, or regret that you had interacted at all, he isn’t sure.

“Oh, you talked to her alright,” Aether chirps, mouth full. Kinich’s face twists in disgust. “Talked her right out of financial stability.”

Lumine jerks an elbow into her brother’s ribs, ignoring his pained yelp. 

“What he means to say,” she starts, shooting her twin a poisonous glare, “is that you made a mistake, and you know it now. All you can do is apologize, or leave her alone if you think that would be best.”

Kinich thinks on that for a moment. Apologizing seems reasonable, but the laundry list of things he should apologize to you for seems to grow longer by the day. He’s not even sure you would hear him out for that long at this point.

Last night had given him a glimpse of hope, but your manager had ruined anything he had built up in that moment. 

And really, he should leave you alone. The guilt building and knotting in his chest is enough, enough that he knows that getting involved with you further would only lead to more heartbreak for both of you. He’s just not sure if he’s capable of letting you go again.

“I mean, no offense, but weren’t you the one who rejected her back then? And then, like…ghosted her?” Aether asks.

Lumine facepalms, thoroughly exhausted by trying to reel in her twin’s complete lack of decorum. It seems to be her full-time job at this point.

“It’s okay,” Kinich sighs, waving her off. “He’s right. I did.”

He’d been going through a lot back then, not that it had been a valid excuse. He’d been far too immature to be honest with you like you deserved. 

With a groan, Kinich shuts his laptop to fully focus on the topic at hand—he hasn’t been studying for a few minutes now anyway.

Lumine and Aether stare at him like they’re awaiting clarification. He shrugs, deflated.

“I was young and stupid. There’s no good explanation for it.”

“I don’t know if was is the right term,” Aether adds thoughtfully. “I mean, you did just get her fired, and that’s because—”

“—Aether.”

Lumine hisses through gritted teeth, and her twin chuckles, suddenly nervous.

“That’s because I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot and I’m going to stop talking now.”

Aether dives back into his chicken fried rice like a kicked puppy, pouting. Lumine glances over at Kinich, gauging the conflict written over his features. She sighs, smoothing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well, the choice is yours.”

If it were just up to him, he would chase after you and apologize endlessly. But he knows that his aren’t the only feelings in play here—if anything, yours matter more. So, he decides to leave it to fate.

He fishes into his bag with one hand, producing his wallet and shaking out a few coins. He holds one out for his friends to see.

“Heads, I apologize. Tails, I leave her alone.”

He swallows hard.

“Forever.”

He’s not sure if he truly means that quite yet, but he tells himself that he does. Steeling his resolve, he tosses the coin in the air. Aether and Lumine’s eyes grow wide as they follow its path, spinning and twisting before landing neatly on the ground.

“Kinich, do you think we’ll still know each other in five years? Ten years?”

“Of course we will.”

Kinich leans forward, peering down at the fallen Mora.

There’s a tinge of relief in his sigh.

Heads.

[zae-heeyyy]

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

[xosamioo]

“𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭”

grouping: dom! jay x Virgin jungwon x sub!

rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

wc: 6k

content warnings: NSFW under the influence mention of alcohol and swearing jungwon is a virgin

Summary: Jay and Jungwon attended “the sound of Prada” event in Seoul and are going back home after a night of drinking and having fun. They end up going in the same car alone and things got heated.

Author note: inspired by the recent jaywon moments at “the sound of Prada” event Enha attend and the song “Diet Pepsi” by the lovely Addison Rae

🔞 This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own risk.

Enhypen was at the “Sound of Prada” event, surrounded by other influential artists, the event pulsating with music and conversations intertwined. Live music filled the air celebrating music culture worldwide.

All of the members are drinking liquor. All except Jungwon who doesn't like alcohol and all of the members respect his choice. They all know that he doesn't like the burn, even though he is old enough to drink it. He was enjoying his night, he didn't need alcohol to do so. He was just observing and sometimes recording the musical performances. Jay was standing next to Jungwon and drinking his cocktail

Jay is a light drinker, he only drank if an event called for it or alone with his close peers. He could get tipsy sometimes and get a little carried away. He would joke and get a little flirty, he also has been known to get a bit handsy, especially with Jungwon. Jay glanced over at Jungwon who was just watching everything from the side observing and taking some videos and pictures. Jay smiled and then leaned closer towards him. "Having fun?" Jay asked Jungwon as he got close to his ear. Jungwon didn't flinch at all, having been used to Jay's proximity with him. "Yeah, I'm having a good time." He replied, not even turning to look at Jay.

Jay hummed in response, sipping his drink, his eyes trailing down Jungwon's body. They were both in Prada, well dressed for the event and they both looked good. Jay was particularly focused on Jungwon, he was wearing the most simple thing out of all of the members, but he still looked the best.

"You look good," Jay said, almost whispering in Jungwon's ear, making sure no one could hear him except Jungwon.

Jungwon was used to Jay's compliments. Jay often showered him with them. He got a lot of attention from the members, but he felt like he got a lot more compliments from Jay. "Thank you," Jungwon said, finally looking at him, still not phased by the proximity Jay had with him. Jay smiled at him, he always loved when Jungwon looked at him, their eyes meeting. Jay loved his big dark brown boba eyes, they were always so captivating for him. Jungwon's lips tugged into a small smile before turning away from Jay's gaze, looking back at the live performances.

Jay's eyes never left Jungwon. He watched him, studying every feature on his face and leaning closer to him to continue to talk to him. Jay was quiet for a few seconds, staring at Jungwon intensely before whispering in his ear again. "I can't keep my eyes off you." He confessed, only loud enough for Jungwon to hear him. He glanced down as Jay spoke to him listening to him and then turned his attention back to the music trying to distract himself as he softly rubbed the side of his neck and smiled and nervously chuckled at Jay's presence and flirted glancing at Jay for a second and looking back forward vibing to the music. Jay smiled seeing his slight reaction. Jay gently rested his hand on his shoulder for a second as he saw him rub his neck. He smiled and looked forward.

A few more hours passed and the event came to an end. The members had their fair share of drinks and fun chatting and all that stuff. It was time to go.

The whole group was getting ready to leave, getting picked up in different vehicles. Jay was supposed to ride in a different car, but he decided to go with Jungwon instead. Jay walked towards Jungwon, who was waving bye to fans and getting into the car. Jay followed him getting into the car with him and also waving fans off The driver began to drive in the direction of their dorm.

They both sat in silence, jay's eyes were slightly on Jungwon, the light from the outside streets illuminating his face. Jay felt tense, he was still tipsy from his drinks and was feeling slightly bold.

Jay scooted closer to Jungwon sitting next to him, now basically glued beside him. Jay always needed to be close to Jungwon. Jungwon didn't flinch, he just smiled slightly, used to Jay's touchy behavior when they were alone.

"I had a good time tonight," Jay said to Jungwon, his voice was a little on the slurred side, but he was still comprehendible. "Yeah, it was nice. I enjoyed it." Jungwon answered.

Jay couldn't keep his eyes off him, he watched him quietly and continued to look at his face. He was entranced by his features, the way the lights danced off his porcelain-like skin, his nose and cute chin, His recently dyed blonde hair, and His lips that he just longed to kiss.

Without thinking, Jay reached out to gently touch Jungwon’s cheek. He didn't say anything, just touched his skin, tracing it lightly with his fingertips, then his thumb rubbing his skin softly.

The action caught Jungwon slightly off guard, but at the same time, he was used to Jay being overly touchy with him. He didn't stop him, just let him touch his skin softly. Jay got bolder after Jungwon didn't reject his touch, and he continued to lightly caress his face. He let his fingers trace the outline of his cheek and jaw, then brushed his hair away from his face. The whole interaction was silent, just the two of them in their little bubble. Both of them were used to Jay being touchy, but somehow this time felt slightly different, more intimate.

After a few minutes of just quietly caressing Jungwon's skin, Jay finally spoke up. "You’re so beautiful." His voice was low and soft, and laced with drunkenness. Jung-won looked up at him, feeling a slight fluttering in his chest.

"Thank you," he mumbled out.

Jay smiled at him, still caressing his cheek with his fingers, his eyes not leaving his face. "I mean it. You're so pretty. You have no idea." Jungwon could feel his cheeks flushing slightly at Jay's words. He was used to his compliments, but he still got flustered at times. "You're tipsy." *he chuckled

Jay chuckled at jungwons words, not denying it. "Maybe a little."

He leaned a little closer to Jungwon, still caressing his face. "Doesn't make it less true though." Jungwon felt his heart racing a little, Jay was so close to him. He knew he wasn't the only person Jay was this touchy with, he often did this with the other members (minus the flirting) but somehow, this still felt more intimate than usual. Jay continued to rub his cheek gently, his eyes flickering between jungwons eyes and lips. He seemed a bit entranced with Jungwon's lips, his eyes lingering on them for a few seconds before snapping back to his eyes. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice a whisper. "You have nice lips, jungwon..." He continued to stare at his lips as he spoke, his eyes tracing the shape of them. jungwon's cheeks flushed, not expecting that to come out of Jay. "Thanks..." He said, feeling slightly flustered. He didn't know what to say, just sat there.

Jay was still staring at him, his hand moving from his cheek down to his chin, then his thumb started tracing his bottom lip, slowly and gently. Jungwon felt a shiver run down his spine as Jay's thumb moved across his lip. He tried to keep his composure, but he could feel his heart racing. "Jay hyung, what-what are you doing?" He asked quietly.

Jay didn't answer immediately, just continued to trace his lip before finally speaking. "I...I don't know."

His voice was soft and slightly slurred. "I just...I just really want to kiss you right now..." The confession shocked Jungwon, not expecting Jay to say something like that. he was used to his compliments and touchy behavior, but…..this was different. "Hyung- you're drunk and-" he started. Jay interrupted him. "I know I'm drunk...But I'm being serious right now. I, really, really want to kiss you."

He took his thumb away from his lip and moved closer to him. "Just one kiss...Please, just let me kiss you."

Jung-won didn't know what to say, he was shocked and flustered. Jay was acting like he had never acted before, so desperate to kiss him. "I-I don't- I don't know..."Jay noticed his hesitancy and moved even closer. "Please, just let me kiss you. I promise that there will be only one. Just one, I swear." Jungwon was conflicted, on one hand, he wanted to give in, but on the other hand, he was scared about what would happen if he did. he didn't want things to get weird or awkward. "But, we...we can't" he mumbled out, looking away from Jay's gaze. Jay moved forward even closer, his face inches away from jungwons. "Why not? No one's watching... we won't tell anyone."Jungwon felt like there was a battle inside of him, part of him wanted to give in, to let Jay kiss him like he wanted to, but the other part of him was terrified of the repercussions.

"I just...I don't know-" Jay cut him off, his voice desperate. "Please jungwon-y, just let me kiss you. I'm begging you. One kiss...Please..." jungwon could feel Jay's breath on his face, he was so close. He knew that he should push him away, tell him to stop, but he couldn't. Jay's gaze was so intense, and he was begging, pleading for just one kiss.

His resolve started to crumble, and he slowly nodded his head. Jay's eyes lit up as Jungwon nodded. He raised his hand to cup his face again, then leaned in closer, closing the gap between them. His lips gently grazed Jungwons for a moment before he fully pressed their lips together. Jungwon closed his eyes as Jay's lips touched his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet, but he could still taste the alcohol on his lips. He felt a shiver run down his spine from the contact. He couldn't believe this was happening, Jay's lips on his. It was something he always secretly wanted but never allowed himself to hope for.

Jay deepened the kiss, his lips moving against jungwons softly. He couldn't believe this was happening, he was finally kissing the boy he'd been wanting for so long, and it was just as, if not more, perfect than he had imagined it. The kiss grew more passionate, their lips moving together heatedly. Jay's hand moved to the back of jungwons head, pulling him closer. Jung-won didn't resist as Jay pulled him closer, just melted into the kiss, his hands moving to grab onto Jay's shirt. He had never been kissed like this before, jay was so intense and the kiss was so hot. His own body was starting to heat up and his mind was all fuzzy. Jay's tongue started to slip into Jung's mouth, tangling with his own. Jungwon tasted the alcohol again, but it didn't matter.

Jungwon felt his breath hitch at the feeling of Jay's tongue in his mouth. His mind was a mess, a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He never thought that this would happen and he gently pulled away He was flushed and panting lightly, trying to catch his breath.

"Jay hyung, we should-" Jay cut him off again, his voice low and pleading. "No, no, no, don't stop. I want more. I want you. Please.”jungwon could hear the desperation in Jay's voice, and it made his stomach flutter. "But- but we can't-"

He was trying to be logical, to think about the consequences, but it was getting harder and harder to say no to Jay. Jay pushed him up against the car seat door trapping him there. He pressed his body closer to his and leaned down to speak against his ear.

"Please, baby, just a little more..."

The pet name sent shivers down jungwons spine and made his heart beat faster. He couldn't resist any longer, he wanted this just as bad. He looked up at Jay, his boba eyes wide and glassy, his cheeks flushed. “I’ve never... I mean, I want to, but…”It's okay," Jay said, his voice low and soothing. He brushed some hair from jungwons face before cupping his cheek again. "I know you haven't, I'll be gentle. I just want to touch you, kiss you...Let me make you feel good." Jungwon felt the tension in his body melt away slightly. Jay's touch and words were working magic on him.

He still had doubts in the back of his mind, but the desire to feel more of Jay was taking over. he leaned into his hand and whispered, "Okay... I trust you."

Jay smiled at jungwons words and leaned down to press a soft kiss against his forehead. Good boy," he whispered, then moved his lips down to Jungwon's neck, peppering kisses down his skin.

Jungwon's breath hitched as he felt Jay's lips on his neck. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, giving Jay more access to his skin. His hands gripped onto jays shirt tighter, pulling him closer as he let out a soft moan. Jay smirked against his neck at the sound of his moan, his tongue darting out to lick and kiss the sensitive skin. He moved down to his collarbone, nipping and biting gently, wanting to leave marks but he knew he couldn’t. Jungwon's breathing was becoming uneven as Jay explored his neck and collarbone. He could feel his heart racing, and he felt a mix of pleasure and a little bit of nervousness. He couldn't believe that this was happening. Jay's hands started to roam down his body, tracing his sides and waist, before moving to the hem of his cardigan. "Can I take this off?" he whispered against his neck, his fingers playing with the fabric. Jung-won felt a shiver run down his spine at Jay's words. he knew where this was headed and he was both excited and scared at the same time. He nodded his head "Yes... yes, you can."Jay wasted no time and pulled jungwons sweater up and off, discarding it somewhere in the car.

"You're so beautiful..." he murmured.

He stared down at jungwons bare chest, tracing his fingers over his collarbones and soft skin. jungwon felt exposed without anything on even tho Jay had seen him a couple of times when changing also his members but this was different.

Jay's eyes roamed over his body, taking in the sight of him in awe. "God, you're so pretty..." He leaned down and started to kiss and nip at his chest, his lips and tongue exploring his upper body. Jungwon's breath hitched as Jay started to kiss his chest. He could feel Jay's hands roaming over his body too, touching and caressing his skin gently, sending tingles all over. he couldn't help but let out soft moans, arching up into Jay's touch. Jay moved up to whisper against his ear. "You look so good like this, moaning and shaking for me."

Jay's lips moved down to his stomach, kissing and biting at the soft skin there. He could feel jungwons breathing speed up and feel his body move under his touch, and it only fueled his hunger for more. jungwon's mind was fuzzy with pleasure, Jay's words and touch driving him crazy. He could feel tingles shoot through his body as Jay's mouth moved across his skin. He grabbed onto Jay's hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out more soft whimpers.

Hyung…..need you Jay felt a wave of arousal shoot through him as Jungwon whimpered and grabbed onto his hair.

"I know baby, I know you need me," he mumbled against his skin. "And I need you too. I want you so bad."He continued to kiss and bite down his stomach, moving lower as he reached the edge of his pants. jungwon's hips bucked up involuntarily at Jay's touch. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach and the needy sensation growing stronger. "Please hyung...need you now...please...." He panted out.

Jay groaned at the sound of jungwons begging and pleading. He was getting hard just from seeing and hearing him like this. "I know…Be patient" he said softly, his hands moving to unbutton his jeans. Jung-won whimpered and squirmed on the seat, his body aching for more contact. Jay's hands felt so good on his body, and he couldn’t wait to feel even more of them. He bucked his hips up, trying to get more friction. Jay smirked at his needy behavior, He slowly pulled off jungwons pants and underwear, leaving him completely bare for him. Jay drank in the sight of him, the flush on his face, the needy look in his eyes, and the way his chest rose and fell all together. Jung-won felt a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as he lay there completely naked, his body feeling exposed. But the way Jay was looking at him, looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world, made him want more. He reached out for Jay, his hands grasping at the air, silently begging him to come closer. Jay leaned down closer, his lips hovering over his. "So gorgeous.." He whispered, his voice low and rough. He was consumed with the desire to touch him, taste him. "I'm going to make you feel so good, baby... I promise." jungwon whined at his words, his body feeding even more on edge. He needed more, he needed Jay's hands all over him.

“you….still have clothes on…”

Jay felt a pang of heat at the sound of jungwons needy whines. "I know baby, I know...I'll take them off. I just wanna look at you a little more." He murmured against his lips. He leaned back just enough to pull the black cardigan he had on over his head, discarding it somewhere in the car before moving down to unbuckle his pants. Jung-won watched as Jay got rid of the rest of his clothes, revealing his toned body. He couldn't help but bite his lower lip as he saw the muscles and the way Jay's body moved. Jay chuckled as he saw Jungwon bite his lip, he knew what that meant even with his slurred mind. He discarded his belt and lowered his pants and underwear in one go Jungwon's eyes widened as he saw Jay completely naked. His angry aching red cock sprung out against his stomach.

Jung-won felt nervous and scared a the sight. “hyung…….how…...is it…”

Jay looked down and smiled at his reaction, he knew he wasn't small, he could tell that it was probably bigger than Jungwons. Jung-won looked up at him, both scared and eager. He wanted to feel it against him, inside of him...he could feel himself getting even more desperate for him, his mind hazy in pleasure as he stared at the man on top of him. he didn't know what it would feel like but all he know is that he wanted it.

Jung-won stared at it, feeling both intimidated and excited. “it’s….bigger than I thought…” Jay chuckled and leaned down, his lips moving to his ear. “You’re adorable, baby.” he nipped at his earlobe before whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you. I’ll go slow…I promise.”jungwons body tingled as he felt jays lips on his ear, his words making him shiver. He trusted Jay and knew he would be gentle like he promised, so he nodded shyly. “Okay….I’m ready hyung…” Jay looked down at him, seeing the trust and desire in his eyes, and he felt a wave of anticipation wash over him the way Jungwon laid beneath him completely bare for him it was missing from his drunken mind. He leaned down and kissed him, slow and gentle, trying to convey all his feelings through it. Then he pulled away and flipped Jungwon so he was laying on his stomach against the car seat his ass facing up at him. Jungwon's face was flushed with embarrassment at being in such a vulnerable position, but he trusted Jay enough to let him take control. He closed his eyes and waited, his heart racing in anticipation. Jay took a moment to admire Jungwon, the sight of his arching back and perfect curves, but the urge to touch him, taste him, was too strong. He put one hand on his hip, gripping him firmly as he leaned down to press a kiss onto his spine jungwon body responded immediately to Jay's touch, arching up into it by instinct. He gasped and felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Jay's warm lips against his skin again. Jay leaned down and whispered into Jungwon's ear, his voice low and rough. “Gotta be quiet, baby. Can’t let the driver hear us.”

He moved his free hand up to cover jungwons mouth as he kissed and bit at his shoulder. Jung-won nodded and tried to muffle his moans he could feel Jay pressed against his ass. Jay groaned at the feel of Jungwon underneath him, he could feel his heat and the way he was squirming. He wanted to just press right in but he had to be gentle and go slow, like he promised. Jay uncovered Jungwon's mouth reaching it out to his mouth “Spit” Jay said jungwon obeyed, and he collected some saliva in his mouth before spitting it in Jay's hand. Jay used the saliva to moisten his fingers, rubbing them together before he moved his hand down and slid a finger inside him slowly.

Jung-won gasped at the feeling, the intrusion was unexpected and unfamiliar. He felt a stinging sensation but it wasn’t so bad. He gripped the

seat beneath him, his body tensing up slightly. “Hyung….” He mumbled, his voice slightly strained. “It’s…it’s weird..”

Jay slowed down, not wanting to hurt him. “I know baby, I know it’s weird. Just relax, it’ll feel good soon.” He added another finger as he started to move them slowly. Jung-won gasped at the feeling of the second finger. It started to feel better tried to relax His body was adjusting to the feeling, the stinging slowly fading away and getting replaced by strange but pleasant sensations.

He could feel Jay stretching him out and he leaned back his head, his body responding to the movement. “Ah…..hyung…..” he mumbled, his voice getting more strained. “Feels…..good…..” Jay smirked at his words, he could tell that Jungwon was starting to feel good, which was exactly what he wanted. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good.” He whispered, moving

his fingers in a slow rhythm. jungwons was gripping the seat beneath him as the fingers inside him started to get faster. He was getting used to the feeling and started to feel the need for more. He lifted his head and looked back at Jay, his eyes pleading. “Hyung…need more…please…” Jay groaned and his eyes darkened at jungwongs plea. “Patience baby, I know you need more but I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, but he could feel his patience wearing thin. He removed his fingers, earning a whine from Jungwon. He leaned down to give him a quick kiss before whispering in his ear. “Shhh….be patient, I’m gonna give you what you want.” Jungwon lay there, his body feeling empty without Jay's fingers. He whimpered softly and felt desperate for more, but he tried his best to stay patient like Jay told him to do.

Jay reached over to grab his jacket, rummaging through the pocket before pulling out a small packet His mind was getting fuzzy again but he tried to think as clearly as he could for jungwons sake even tho he just had to take him right there and then without any prepping but he had to be gentle. He tore the packet with his teeth, taking out the small square piece of rubber. He took a moment to look at Jungwon, seeing his body twitching and waiting for him. He felt a pang of lust go through him but took a deep breath to steady himself. “You ready, baby?”jungwon was panting and felt desperate. He wanted more, he needed more. "Yes, yes, I’m ready, hyung, please... I need you."

“Okay…just relax, okay?” Jay said, his words a little slurred but still firm.

He put the condom on, his breath hitching as he did so. He looked down at Jungwon again, his eyes dark and filled with need. “I’m gonna go slow, okay?”

He aligned himself with Jungwons entrance, one hand on his hip to keep him steady, his body tense with anticipation. Jungwon's body was trembling. He could feel jays body pressed against his, the blunt head of his cock at his entrance. Jay covered Jungwon mouth one’s again and He wanted to make sure that Jungwon was comfortable before moving any further.

He tightened his grip on his hip, trying to keep him still He slowly pushed in a little, just the tip, watching Jungwons face for any sign of pain or discomfort. Jungwons body tensed, the pressure and burning sensation familiar but more intense than the fingers, and he whined into Jay's mouth Jay stopped moving, giving him time to adjust to the feeling. His body was shaking with the effort to hold back, he wanted to just push in all the way but he knew that he had to be careful and gentle especially with it being jungwons first time. "You okay, baby?" He asked, his voice slightly strained. Jung-won nodded against the hand covering his mouth, his breath coming in quick gasps. The burning sensation was still there, and he felt like he was being stretched too wide. He whined again and mumbled, “Hurts a little, hyung..” I know baby, I know. Just keep breathing, okay? Deep breaths,” Jay said, rubbing his hip reassuringly. He could feel jungwons body clenching around him, and he knew it would hurt a little before it. “You’re doing so good, baby. I promise it’ll get better soon.”

Jung-won tried to relax and breathe as Jay told him to do, he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of his hand on his hip and the sound of his voice. “Okay. I’m okay…” he mumbled after a minute, the pain and burning sensations slowly subsiding. “That’s it,” Jay murmured. “You’re doing so good for me, baby” He started to move again, slowly pushing in a little bit further, watching closely to see how Jungwon was reacting. Jungwon gasped as he felt Jay pushing in deeper, the pain was slowly turning into something else, something good. “Ah…..hyung….” He moaned against his hand “You’re doing so well, baby” Jay murmured again, his voice low and rough. He kept moving slowly, sinking in slowly, inch by inch.

“God…you’re so tight…..” he groaned,

the feeling making him light-headed, the alcohol and the heat of the moment making him dizzy. “You’re taking me so well, baby.” He leaned down and whispered in his ear, his lips brushing against it “You’re doing so good for me.”

Jungwon could feel his body stretching around Jay, the pain and burning sensation were almost gone now and only pleasure and need were left. He gripped the seat below him, his breath coming out of his. “Hyung…please…more…” He pleaded against his hand. Jay felt Jungwons plea and felt the last bit of his restraint snap.

“Okay, baby…I’ll give you more.”

He pulled out and pushed in a bit harder this time, watching Jungwon face for

His reaction. “Ah…ah!” Jungwon gasped loudly against Jay’s hand, the feeling was overwhelming and he felt a burst of pleasure in his stomach. “hyung…feels so good. “Yeah?” Jay's voice was low and rough, he could feel Jungwon clenching around him and it was driving him crazy, starting to move faster now, the alcohol making him dizzy and his mind was only filled with thoughts of Jungwon and how he looked and sounded under him. Jay knew he probably wouldn’t last long, he was drunk and over-sensitive “You feel so good around me, baby,” Jay said, his breathing getting quicker and voice getting lower. “So tight and hot”

He gripped his hip tighter as he moved faster inside him, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Taking me so well” Jay praised him, feeling Jungwon’s body squeezing him tighter, his words making me feel hotter. “I’m so close..” "Me too…hyung…I’m so close, please…”Jungwon whined, his body shaking from the pleasure. He was gripping the seat below him so hard, that his body felt like it was on fire, he was close but he just needed a little more push

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you” Jay whispered, shifting his hand from jungwons mouth to his hips. He held him in place as he started pumping into him harder and faster “Ah- ah” jungwons moan was getting louder, he was sure that the driver would be able to hear him but he didn’t care anymore, he needed more, he needed to come “I’m close, I’m so close..Ah, hyung..”jungwon whimpered, his body on fire and his mind clouded over by Jay and pleasure. Jay felt his orgasm approaching, he shifted to hold Jungwon's hips with one hand while the other went to his hair, pulling him up against his chest so he could whisper in his ear “cum for me baby, come on” he whispered, his lips brushing against his ear jungwons body was shaking, the feeling of Jay so close to his ear and the way he was holding his neck made him even more sensitive “ah, hyung..” He whimpered his body on the edge.. “shit-” jays voice was shaky as he was getting close too. He moved his hands back to jungwons hip, using the other one to hold his hair again, tugging it so his neck was arched back against his shoulder. “So- fucking good” he groaned, moving his hips faster, needing to see him reach his release

"Ja- Hyung...I'm...I'm... ah" Jungwon couldn't hold back anymore He came, crying out jays name as his body shook and he clutched the seat jay watched him come undone, he felt jung-won clamp down on him and he found his release grunting loudly, pumping a few more times before he spilled into the condom. He slumped back onto the seat, pulling Jungwon down with him and letting go of his hair to wrap his arms around him, holding him “You did good baby, you did good” he said in between breaths, still dizzy but feeling a lot better now. He pressed a kiss onto jungwons shoulder, his hands gently rubbing his sides jungwons body was still trembling and his breathing was shaky, he leaned back against Jay, feeling spent and satisfied.

he mumbled sleepily “Can’t feel my legs”

jays chest rumbled with a soft laugh “You’re gonna feel like that for few minutes, don’t worry” He nuzzled his face into Jungwon's neck, still holding him tightly against his chest

The car seemed to have slowed down slightly, and Jungwon knew that they were getting close to their dorm soon.

“we’re getting close,” Jay said as if reading his mind, his voice low and rough. “We gotta clean up and put our clothes on” Jungwon groaned but he knew he was right. He tried to get up but his legs felt too shaky and weak. “I can’t stand up” he mumbled jay chuckled again and tightened his arms around him, keeping him from getting up. “I’ll help you.”He gently maneuvered him so he was facing him. He looked down and saw the mess they had made with the condom and the way his shirt was all crumpled. He reached down and fixed up his clothes before looking back up at his face jungwon was looking up at him, a tired expression on his face but a soft smile on his lips. “you look messed up, hyung” he mumbled, reaching up to fix his hair jay smiled back at him and ruffled his hair. “Look who’s talking” he teased. “You look like a mess”

“yeah…who’s fault is that?” jungwon said, his voice sarcastic. Jay rolled his eyes and pinched his sides, “I think you liked it”“Ow..don’t pinch me” Jungwon pouted, shifting away from jays fingers

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay said softly but there was still a teasing smile on his face

the car was getting closer to their destination and the two of them were still sitting on the back seat, both of their hair messy and kinda clothes rumpled. It wasn’t so obvious that they had been doing something thin. Jay looked out the window and saw the dorms come into view. “hyung”…..jungwon spoke up gently Jay turned to look at him. “mhmm?” will things change between us?…. I don’t want it to be akwa-”

Jay moved closer shaking his head. “nothing will change between us, I promise” he said, his voice serious. “You’re still my lifeline. my baby”

“I’m still your baby?” Jungwon asked teasingly, the corners of his lips curving into a smile showing his dimples. Jay smiled back and pinched his cheek “Yeah, you’re still my baby,” he said in a mock tone before he lowered his voice

“𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘄”

Actual Moments from the “sound of Prada” event Jaywon attended that inspired a few scenes: Jaywon moments Twitter link

Authors note: Hope you guys enjoyed this short story 🤧 it’s my first upload please share and like and request away love y’all 🩶

© xosamioo 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate. Ps lmk if you see anything suspicious

[justpeaxchy]

I love your stories httyd ……and I have a request, a headcanoon if you don't mind, maybe about "Hiccup and a reader after an argument", what if they argued and took some time, how would Hiccup take it?

A/n: hello <3! I hope I got this request right, lol. May be fairly short!

Warnings: mentions of arguments (obv), a little bit of distance between Hiccup and reader for a bit, Hiccup kind of lashes out - he's a lil angry guys 🤷🏼‍♀️.

'But I Crumble Completely When You Cry.'

First off, Hiccup wouldn't be one to get in an intense argument so quickly with you. He makes sure to always hear your side of the story and try to rationalize things out with you.

He hates arguments with you of any kind, purely because he doesn't want to hurt you or say something out of line that he'd later regret.

Sure, he's sarcastic, but he knows when to stop and be serious when it's needed, although he would much rather prefer for everything to be in a lighter mood, he knows that he can't ignore some of the downs of a relationship and only acknowledge the ups in it.

"Everyone has their ups and downs." He'd say, "But we'll work through that together, okay?"

That's what he had told you, and it's what he stuck by. He didn't want to risk damaging his relationship with you because he didn't speak up about something that was necessary, so if there were ever anything to cause some discord between you two, he's quick to try and get to the bottom of it and solve whatever problem occured.

It's very - and I mean very - rare to see Hiccup run off in that much frustration after an argument. The only reason why he'd go and separate himself from you after an argument is if you caught him already in a bad mood. Even then, he strives not to do anything irrational, and it worked for a long time.

For this one time, however, he was too drowned in the responsibilities of becoming the future chief, getting negative feedback from Stoick, and having the weight of the familiar anxiety come upon him once again the more he thought about taking on his father's role in the future.

You'd notice right away that he was a bit on edge, stuff in his movements, and not bearing the usual smile he displayed for you. He thinks he's hiding the fact that he's angry and upset, but everyone knows.

You find a way to gently confront him about it, but he finally cracks and he doesn't know how to handle it; "Look, I just need to be alone. Can you give me that for one second, please?" After seeing the look on your face, he'd bolt out of the place you two were in, getting on Toothless to fly somewhere else.

You knew that, sometimes, space was needed in order for one of you to calm down, but he hadn't done something like that before - not in a very long time. It hurt, yes, but you weren't going to push it out of him. So, you waited until he was comfortable enough to share. If he took too long, then you would intervene and speak up about it.

Hiccup, on the other hand, felt an immense amount of guilt for what he'd done. He snapped at you when you merely asked him if he was alright - which he definitely wasn't now.

After cooling down and reflecting on what he did, he made it a mission to apologize to you as quickly as he could. And I mean quick.

Once he found you, Hiccup immediately embraced you in a hug. After a minute or two, he hesitantly pulled away, not knowing if you were angry at him for what had happened.

"I understand if you're upset with me.. I, I was overwhelmed with everything going on and I lashed out at you - which was totally unjustified - and-"

"Hiccup, calm down. It's alright.." You murmured, gently rubbing his hands as he kept his gaze on the floor. "It happens.. but please don't run away from what's hurting you.. it won't make it go away. Tell me what's going on.. please?"

He still felt really bad even after you had to tell him multiple times that you've forgiven him.

You both are quick to recover from this, though. He makes sure that you know he's truly sorry for what happened and that he doesn't plan on doing that again.

Overall, Hiccup isn't one for arguments, he likes to settle things before they can arise to a bigger problem that he doesn't want for the both of you. The last thing he wants is for you to be upset because of him. So, he'll do everything in his power to avoid that.

----------------------------------------

[miyukisu]

Talk Like That .ᐟ

❤︎ | Who would have thought that your quiet and stoic boss had such a dirty side to him? (2.7 wc) ╰ feat. hiromi higuruma (jjk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 3 | kinktober masterlist

tags - degradation, office sex, semi-public sex, hiromi is very mean, paralegal! reader, spanking, punishment, p in v, blowjob, pussy eating, doggy, protected sex

minors do not interact

H I R O M I H I G U R U M A

You passed by those bold letters plastered across the matted glass of his office almost everyday. After all, your office was a little bit down the hall from his.

Everyone in the firm knew who Hiromi Higuruma was. For one, he was perhaps the most talented man working there. But also because he was the finest man you have ever laid your eyes upon.

Hiromi always came to work looking sleek and prepared for the day. You would never catch him dead with tousled hair or his suit disheveled.

In fact, people slowly became jealous of his secretary. She spent all hours of her working day right in front of his office, relaying calls to him, and accompanying him in several errands.

It was ridiculous. His secretary probably had grandchildren at her age. But you understood why anyone would be jealous.

Part of you wanted to spend time with the stoic and brooding man too. But it was tough. Too fucking tough.

He wasn't the type to engage in pleasantries or make himself available for too long at office events. You've been working at the firm for so long, yet you barely knew anything about him outside of his achievements. It was almost impossible, you thought.

That was until you, as a paralegal, were requested by him.

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All those years of hard work finally paid off now that the biggest shot at the firm took notice of you. It was your chance to prove yourself at work and to Hiromi. Of course, it was a primary goal to impress him.

The case was demanding, a high-profile one at that as well. It was no surprise that you had to spend many sleepless nights at the office. But you weren't alone—Hiromi was often left to work late hours too.

Sometimes you'd drop off a file or two and discuss a bit. Ordinary stuff, all things considered. However, tonight was different; tensions were high.

You had made a mistake earlier today. You missed a detail and the client had to know about it. There was a whole scene in the office that afternoon. Hiromi had to clean up after your mess. None of it was his fault and he had to embarrass himself for the sake of some paralegal he probably only learned the existence of recently.

Usually, you'd be ecstatic to catch a glimpse of him so late at night. But right now, he was the last person you wanted to see. Hiromi didn't show it, but he was definitely angry.

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You knocked slowly against the open glass door of his office. You were sure it was just the two of you in the building at this hour. At least, if he decides to reprimand you for your shitty performance—no one would have to hear a thing.

Hiromi didn't bother looking up; he knew who it was. He simply nodded in acknowledgement and you let yourself in.

"Here are the files you were asking for earlier," you say as you hand it over to him. Hiromi uses the pen in his hand to point to an empty space of his desk.

It takes you a few seconds too late to understand, but you place the documents neatly before taking a step back. He continued skimming over the document he was currently holding, a bored expression painted on his face.

"Learned your lesson yet?" he asked flatly.

You were hoping not to go over this again, but it was inevitable. "Yes, sir... I'm terribly sorry for what happened earlier. It won't happen again."

"Words... always just words, but it never gets reflected in your performance," he retorts. Hiromi sets down the document in his hand before grabbing the papers that you brought. Still—he hasn't spared you a single glance.

Despite the impartial look on his face, you could tell that he wasn't exactly happy at the moment. You nervously awaited for a comment or critique from him about your work as he proceeded to go over it quickly.

"Are you sure I won't find another mistake in here?"

"Y-yes, sir. I'm certain."

He hummed lowly. "Then I better not see one. You know what'll happen if I do."

Right. You were going to be removed from the case and some other paralegal would take your place. Then, Hiromi would never ever look your way. That fact in particular made you the most anxious you've been thus far.

You watched as his weary eyes scrutinized your work. The black orbs darting quickly from one side to another, his lips still pressed into a thin line.

If you had hoped he would dismiss you without another scolding... oh, you were dead wrong.

Hiromi's eyes squinted at a particular line before dropping the documents on his desk and running his large hand over his face. You felt the blood drain from your face and your heart drop to your stomach. This wasn't good...

He finally looked at you, but with that kind of expression—you'd rather that he not looked at you at all. His dark eyes bore into your skull. No words were spoken yet, but you knew the thoughts running rampant in that head of his.

None of them were good.

"You were certain you made no mistakes—yes?"

"I'm sorry," was all you could mutter. What else was there to say? Nothing would soothe his wrath.

He slammed an open palm against his desk. "What the hell do you do all day in this office? Hm?"

Hiromi stands up, not letting you reply. "Come here," he commands. You had never heard me speak or had seen him look this way. But the stress and frustration at work—coupled with his personal affairs—simmered within him. He was only a man; he too had his limits.

You sheepishly shuffled closer to his desk, head hung low.

"Look at me."

And you do.

Your eyes meet and it stirs an emotion in you that you can't quite put a finger on. He leans in, his smell permeating your nostrils and down to your core. Hiromi smelled good, of course, that much was to be expected.

"Tell me—what the hell do you do all day in this office?"

"I don't know what..."

"You don't know what that means? Can't even answer a simple question?"

He grabs your jaw slowly, applying just enough force to make your lips pucker. "Do you know how humiliated I was earlier because of your mistake?"

You mutter another apology, albeit a bit muffled. Hiromi scoffed in response. "Is that all you can do? Say sorry for every stupid mistake that you make?"

"I'm starting to think all you do here is prance around in your tight clothes, batting your eyelashes at anyone who'd look at you. You like their attention, don't you?"

Hiromi lets go of your face, giving you a chance to speak. "I don't... I don't want their attention... I don't do the things you just said... I..."

"I only want your attention."

His taut expression seemingly softened, though traces of anger were still evident. You added, "Maybe I was trying too hard because I wanted to impress you and in the process I kept messing up more because... because..."

You were a stuttering mess; you weren't even sure why the hell you were telling all of this to him. It was pathetic and unprofessional. But it hardly mattered in an odd situation like this.

"You wanted to impress me?" he asked.

Everyone did; everyone wanted to look good in the eyes of the Hiromi Higuruma. You were no exception to that.

"Yes, sir..."

He takes a step back from his desk, sitting back down on his leather swivel chair. "Come over here," he says as his finger makes a come hither gesture.

You gulped down hard before going around his desk, standing right in front of him. Hiromi still had a bored expression plastered on his face. "On your knees."

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. There was no mistaking his words. He was actually asking you to—

"O-okay," you replied shakily. You dropped down to your knees, but before you could get any closer, he leaned down and grabbed you by the hair; your messy bun became messier. He only did so—not to hurt you—but to make you look at him and to make sure you'd hear him loud and clear.

"You really want to make it up to me?" he asked lowly and you nod.

His fingers slowly detangle from your locks as he leans back in his chair. "You know what to do then. I'm sure you've been waiting to do something like this."

You'd be a fucking liar if you said you haven't dreamt of doing something filthy like this with the hottest man in the office. It only made it better that you were actually doing it inside his office.

You crawled closer to him until your head was between his thighs. It thrilled you straight to your core. Your fingers lightly traced the seam of his trousers before pulling his zipper down. After undoing the button, you slowly tugged the pants and boxers that were in the way. Your mouth almost watered at the sight of his cock—though it was only half hard.

Seeing how it was now—it made you wet thinking about it at its biggest. It was overwhelming now it was actually in your hand. Warmth radiated from it as you brought your face closer.

"You look famished. Fantasized about this before haven't you?"

In response, you simply kissed his tip—earning a hiss from him. You spat on it, letting the glob of saliva trickle down his length before your hand spread it all over. In one go, you took as much as you could in your mouth.

His girth made your eyes water. He relaxed in his chair as if he found peace in your warm mouth, a soft groan slipping from his chapped lips. You made sure to go at an excruciatingly slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm yourself. This might just be your last chance to impress him; you weren't about to fuck it up.

"Guess there is something you can do properly hm?"

A familiar set of fingers tangle in your strands again, slowly guiding your head. "Sucking it so enthusiastically—maybe paralegal work isn't your calling."

All the dirty talk went straight to your sopping cunt, making you moan around his length. He hisses again, "Fuck... you're enjoying this way too much."

He pulls your head away from your cock, taking the time to admire the fucked out expression on your face. Saliva dribbled down your chin as your half-lidded eyes stared back at him.

"Don't wanna cum in your mouth. Stand up," he orders again.

He stands up along with you. Before you could even gain your footing, he had bent you over on his desk—knocking over the stuff that littered the surface.

A gasp escapes you as he roughly pushes your black pencil skirt, bunching it up at your waist. He marveled at your stocking-clad ass. A harsh slap surprised you.

"O-ouch..."

He leans against you, his chest pressing into your back. Hiromi's hand snaked to your front, lightly gripping your neck. You could feel his minty breath against your neck as his nose jabbed your cheek. "That's for the first fuck up."

Then, another slap. "That's for your fuck up now."

Another slap. "And that's just for my own pleasure."

He pulled away, the abrupt absence of his warmth making you feel restless. Your senses were flooded by a plethora of things that you didn't notice how he knelt down in front of your heat. Hiromi wasted no time and ripped the barrier that was your black stockings.

"Fucking slut. You should see how drenched you are right now."

He presses a kiss over your clothed cunt, his nose poking at your hole. You let out a breathless groan, finally nearing some much needed stimulation.

His finger hooks into the gusset before pulling it out of the way. He found it pitiful how you clenched over nothing. He'd give you something to clamp on soon anyway.

Hiromi dove right in, lapping at your folds. He took his sweet time, much like you did with him. His tongue teased the length of your slit first before thrusting it into your neglected hole.

A desperate moan echoed through his office as you squirmed. But Hiromi held you by your ass, making sure you would stay still for him. He went faster and faster, not allowing you to adjust. And in no time, he had you cumming on his tongue.

God, it was unfair that an attractive and talented man like him had to be good at sex too.

The last bit of strength that held you up had disappeared, leaving you slumped over his desk. He reached for his drawer, looking for a condom. As much as he wanted to fuck you raw—let you know reaaaal well the consequences of your actions—Hiromi was still a rational man.

He'd have his fun, safely.

Hiromi wasn't in much of a hurry as he idly rolled the rubber down his cock. Besides, time was probably going slower for you right now. Who would've thought just a little bit of pussy eating would get you undone so quickly?

Pathetic. But Hiromi secretly liked it.

He lazily rubbed himself as he lined his cock against your dripping entrance. There wasn't a chance of him going slow now. Hiromi plunged his entire length into your cunt. Your soft moans came out in unison as the lawyer threw his head back a bit.

It had been a while since he let off some steam... and maybe the first time he had a cute little paralegal bent over his desk.

"Finally got what you wanted? Tell me how much you wanted this."

"Wanted this so much," you blabbered. You could hear yourself and even you were surprised by how shameless you were. Hell, if dick as good as this was going in and out of you—maybe it's not that surprising that he could coax out even the most deprived thoughts in your head.

"Fucking slut. You wore this pretty skirt for me, didn't you?"

"Y-yes. I did."

"Fuck right you did," he says. Hiromi takes your arms and crosses them behind you, grabbing it so he can slam harder into you. His grip was bruising, but the pain was easily overlooked by how good he was making you feel down there.

"Maybe I should keep you on this case—not as paralegal, but as my stress reliever. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

His question was only meant by a strangled moan, but it sufficed. The way you eagerly took him in was more than enough to let him know. "Such a perfect slut," he whispered under his breath.

The relentless snap of his hips had you clenching down and he was definitely feeling it with the way he would suck in through his teeth. He knew you were close and so was he.

"Fuck," he drawled out. "Pussy so good... making me cum too quickly for my liking."

Hiromi let go of your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Instead, he grabbed on to your hips, pulling you into his. The lewd squelching sounds along with your moans were certainly heard from beyond his glass office.

"Sir... I'm so close... shit."

He took that as a sign to keep up his maddening pace. Your orgasm came crashing and white spots flooded your vision. If it weren't for him holding up your hips, you would've been completely slouched on the wooden desk.

"Fuck... take it all," he says before his thrust become sloppy. Eventually, he released into the rubber. Hiromi rode out the last few seconds of his climax before slipping out of you. As he took his hands off your flesh, his hand prints were left as a souvenir.

He took the rubber off his sensitive length, tying it up and chucking it into the trash bin. Hiromi sat back down, exhausted, while you were still bent over his desk. Perhaps it'll be a while before you'd gain your strength again.

Until then, he'll admire your pretty pink pussy.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note 100% of my knowledge on law comes from Suits so don't come for me