#sometimes i just wanna run away and drop out and give up yanno

[jelliegirl]

cried for the first time in a long time today which felt nice but it brought up a lot of stuff i’ve been feeling really horrible about deep inside and now i’m just kinda feelin

[yeyinde]

touch starved reader with an oral fixation x kidnapper!Simon who’s all punishment and no physical affection? Please Simon just a little kiss? with tongues? :( (i just wanna make out with this man while my heart aches for him)

by Allah, you people are dogs. i will write the filth as usual.

DEAD DOVE, 18+ | dubcon. kidnapping. mean!Simon. dom!Simon. masking corporal punishment as affection. kissing. size kink, size difference. some thigh riding. degradation + humiliation (verbal). non-con pet play. marking (heavyyyyyy mentions of Simon biting you like a chew toy). choking. daddy kink (but in the awful, demeaning way). manipulation. forced affection. coersion. forced/manufactured dependency. brief mention of Simon stepping on your back to hold you down so he can whip you w a cat o nine tails. yanno. the usual Friday night.

idk. there's something so hot about you, completely naked, riding Simon's clothed thigh as he holds you up by your neck. tongue out, desperate for a kiss while he just mocks you the whole time.

It's survival. 

At first.  

A means of masking the innate horror of being stripped of your agency, your autonomy, by a man you barely even know. One you met once before (fate sealed), and now—outside of your apartment complex where he was idling by the foothold, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the brick wall, head turned. Gaze narrowed as you approached. 

Waiting for someone, you assumed, thinking nothing else about the matter. 

Nothing else, except—

He looked familiar. You think you saw him before. He was staring at you. Hadn't stopped. Hasn't said a word, either. The silence was oppressive. Heavy. Your hands fumbled with the keys. Shaking. Trembling. 

He's pretty, you thought, suddenly. In the way car wrecks can sometimes be. Jarring and awful and hideous, but—

Mesmerising. 

Macabre. And that's what he is. Everything from the mask on his face (skulls, go figure), to the absurdity in his size, his width. The way space itself seemed to move around him, bending and distorting just to let him pass. His own gravitational pull. Magnetic. You feel it tugging on you as he pulls another lungful of smoke. Another. Another.  

(like an hourglass, a timebomb, almost. you wonder what will happen when it runs out—)

He gives you the creeps. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. A visceral sense of unease curdling in the pit of your belly as he keeps staring, staring. Eyes—crystalline under the broken headlamp, washout into crushed topaz—drilling into your back, sharp enough to flay skin. Everything inside of you says to run, but your key won't fit inside the lock. Won't—

Ever. 

And hindsight has always been a bitter thing, hasn't it? Cruel in her mockery. Had you known, then, that he wasn't a workman loitering by the complex, waiting for a friend; or a low-level drug dealer casting webs into the plum hewn aether, it might have saved you. Might have. 

Maybe. Because he was there, waiting for you, all along. 

Life has a funny way of paying back good deeds. All it took for your life to crumble down around you, rubble falling off of a shaking mountain, was kindness. Was seeing a large man in the pouring rain, already drenched. Black clothing sticking to the granite contours of his body, and offering sanctum in the shape of a rusting umbrella you found at a thrift store for three dollars. 

(“here,” you said, chipper. All smiles. “i live just down the street, and you look like you need it more than i do. do you want it?”

and he—

he simply stared. stared. his eyes liquid, molten, as they carelessly dropped, roaming down the length of your body at his own leisure. leering. assessing. it was odd. weird, but—

he huffed, then. seemingly satisfied by whatever you measured up to in his head. his neck lulled back, and he gazed at you from down the crooked length of his nose, tucked neatly away under the thick band of a facial mask. skulls. how could you be so stupid? 

slowly, like he was trying not to startle a mare, his gloved hand reached out, curling thick fingers around the hilt of it. he tugged once. in your stupor, you forgot to let go. embarrassment flooded in. he huffed again, quietly amused, as you untangled your numbed fingers from the umbrella. 

in your distraction, he moved closer. smelled of ash, of mildew. sweat and stale cigarettes. there was something predatory in the way he slipped through space. a preternatural quiet. an eerie stillness. 

you hadn't realised he was there, looming, until he rasped out, “more ‘n you could ever realise, pet.”

and you're sure why you do it. did it. but your hand slips into your shopping bag, eyes widen. heart thundering in your chest. 

“are you hungry? i, uh, i just bought some apples, um—”

his eyes are lavascapes. shackles. chains. “i could eat.”)

And now—

Forced to play this strange cat and mouse of his where he treats you like soot on the bottom of his shoe, and you pretend that it's affection. Love. How godless.  

Protection, he calls it. 

("mine," he whispers, orison soft, into your ear. "ain't go' nowhere else to go, do you, pet? world's big. would eat a small thing like you up. safer here. wit' me. only me.") 

You wonder what he'd do if you told him the biggest danger here was the madness nestled inside your head, the one that sometimes made you look at him like he was your salvation instead of the warden holding the end of your leash in a firm hand. Unyielding—like everything he does. Is. 

Withholding, too. Everything must be earned. Nothing given. Nothing handed out. And you know that this is a ploy, a tactic. Subterfuge meant to chisel into your sense of self, dehumanise you. Turn you into a simpering, obedient little doll for him to play with as he wishes. You know this, and yet—

It's survival, you promise yourself as he tugs on the hook latched to your collar, testing it for weakness. Survival, when his hands—bare, bare; warmed skin against skin, you could just weep—brush over your throat, nails skimming goosebumped flesh as he wedges one, then two inside, hirsute knuckles tickling your pulse. It tightens the collar to near choking. Intentional, you know. He likes it when you beg—for air, for food, water, him. 

Vile man. Awful. 

(You want to roll on your belly at his feet.)

This cold, cruel touch lights a fire under your skin. It's been months since he's last done so. Always wearing gloves when he has to. Using paddles, belts, when you misbehave. Never his bare hand. Not anymore. 

(“m’hand is for good girls,” he slurred, words merging, meshing together, painted with exertion. He wedged his boot against the small of your back, holding you down, and cracked the end of a cat over your bare ass, thighs. Unbothered by your howls, your screams, as the whip bit into your skin. You've never so much as been hit as a child for misbehaving, and now, as an adult, you have a madman standing over you, introducing you to something called a cat o’nine tails—a favourite in the army, lovie. “bad girls,” his boot pressed down harder, heel digging into your spine. “Bad girls get the whip—”)

Bad. Bad. Because you tried to run, to leave him. He dressed you up, called you Mrs Riley, and you—

Ducked out the back door when he turned away for a second. 

Stupid. It was poor timing. A test. He set you up, measuring your loyalty to him, your commitment, and you failed. Failed. 

(“this is what ‘appens when spoiled little cunts get their way too much. they act out, don't they? bitin’ the ‘and that feeds. you'll learn soon enough, though—”)

Ghost—sir, sir (master, maker, god; you'll call him anything he wants if he touches you again)—pulls his fingers away, depriving you of his touch once more. And it's all so stupid. So fundamentally wrong, deplorable, but you follow. Needy. Whining for it in the back of your throat. 

It's been months. Months without touch. Without sensation outside of leather lashing across your thighs, your ass; harsh, gloved fingers digging into your jaw, braced against the back of your head, as you swallow down his cock in an effort to prove to him you've been good. So good. Can be good. His good girl. 

You need to touch him. Need his touch. Ache for it, for something outside of this nook he placed you inside of, denied the privilege of living upstairs with him after you tried to escape. 

You want to. Badly. Your fingers twitch. Ghost sees it. Hums. 

“Need somethin', pet?” 

Your mouth is dry. You swallow. It burns. It hurts. “Yes—”

“Yes, what?”

“Sir—”

Behind the mask he's yet to take off for you fully, only ever hitching it under his chin to devour your cunt whenever you've been good, his jaw tightens, the fabric bunching up. 

You reel back from the look of sheer displeasure etching harsh lines into the hollow gaps of his eyes. Heart thundering. Stomach churning. 

“Mas—” he cuts you off with a soft sigh. Marked with his irritation. “D—dad—”

Dad. A new one. Daddy. He didn't seem like the sort to be into this type of play, not with his sardonic, deadpan eyes. His mockery. His dessicated humour, awful and biting. You'd have sooner expected him to laugh at you—in that slow, deep hum he gives; a little chuff, full of condescension and jeer—than to get off on it. On you, kneeling between his legs with your chin braced against his palm, mouth open, tongue out, as he fucks into the tight clench of his fist, groaning as you beg daddy to give you a taste. 

It's gross. Disgusting. 

It's not done for anything else other than to humiliate you. To crush you under the heel of his boot—little bug—so that you will always know where your place is in this scenario. His little wife. Mother, mum—

He pulls on the leash, jerking you forward. Purrs, “good girl,” and then steps back, moving away from you. Cruel. Dismissive. You hate him, hate him—

(Need him so deeply. With every fibre of your being—)

You watch him as he goes, mourning the loss of his presence already, as he paces around your space, your cage. Broad shoulders barely fitting inside. Head ducking to avoid hitting his crown on the popcorn ceiling. It's strange seeing him here like this. Prowling. He usually comes when he wants you, when he needs to enact more merciless punishment on you for whatever perceived evils you committed (not greeting him with a kiss when he walked in, not letting him suffocate himself in your cunt when he had you sit on his face, not making him cum all over your face quick enough when you knew he had other engagements to get to—), or when he ruts, heavily, between your thighs, cold and detached. Seeking pleasure from your icy flesh, and giving nothing in return but white hot agony. 

Him here, idling in your presence, is revolutionary. 

“S–sir—?”

He hums, quiet. Sits in the chair as you gather the fragments of yourself littered on the ground. His mood is malleable, it seems. 

You push, fingertips sinking into the putty of his agreeable temperament. “Can I—”

You waver when his sharp eyes raze over your bare body—clothes are for good girls, after all—pupils sloshing over the edges, bleeding into midnight blue. 

Your body is a battlefield. Every inch of skin branded with his mark—pretty, thrawn rings of teeth tattooed in silver, haloed in black and red, desecrate your flesh: neck, collarbones, breasts, belly, thighs (a particular favourite of his), ass, mons; all bitten through, chewed up. It weeps when you move, has blood trickling down your skin. The cracking scabs make him coo, poor thing, all bloody fer me? and he licks at them, sucks, until only a pinkish wound in the mimesis of canines remains. 

Uprooted, turned into something new—

His chest expands when he settles his gaze on the sliver of space between your spread thighs. Concealed in tenebrous, hidden from his leering, lecherous view. He cocks his head, considers something unknown to you. His thoughts, his mind, worlds away. Untouchable. 

(only to bad girls, he’d snarled out when you asked why—)

“Testin’ my patience still?” He doesn't rip his gaze away from your cunt, speaks to it sometimes more than he speaks to you. “Thought this alone time might’a cleared your ‘ead.”

You flush. Embarrassment roiling through you. His displeasure is a palpable thing. Heavy. You hate the weight of it. 

“I need—I need you.”

Another toneless hum. “‘Course you do. Ain't got anyone else.”

He's awful. Hideous. You want to rip his tongue out of his mouth. “I—I want you. Please.”

Ghost doesn't answer. You stopped expecting him to a long time ago, his moods odd measures of ebbs and flows; passive and mild, cracking terrible, awful jokes as he strokes your back, hands riveted to your skin, and then biting and caustic the next. Pushing and pushing until you lash out, snap, so he has a reason to push you down, punished and smothered under his bulk, as he ruts into you like a beast, a man starved. Tells you it's for your own good. That you need him. Would be lost without him. 

Bludgeoning a hole into you wide enough for him to crawl inside of. Poisoning you from the inside out with the same nocuous rot that flows in his veins. 

Maybe that's been his agenda all along. Maybe. To make you want him as badly as he wanted you. Desperate, obsessive. Going so far as to follow you home, lost little mutt waiting in the shadows outside of your door until you threw him another bone. And when that didn't work, when the food stopped being enough—

He took you. Held you captive in his house deep in the wilderness. A place so endlessly green that you sometimes stare out at it—unfathomable sea of phalthos and jasper—and feel dizzy. You'll get lost out there—

just like he says. 

As he turns your obsecration over in his head, you wait, supplicant to this man as you rest on your knees. Pretty pet with a golden collar adorned in gems. 

Fitting, you find. With his head cradled against his thick knuckles, you can't help but shiver at the way he looks shrouded in the gloaming embers of a fading twilight. Leonine. A king perfectly at ease in this thick, caliginous atmosphere.

His eyes burn, magmatic, in the low light. Vats of endless ink. Black holes that will swallow you whole if you get too close. But he's poised. Contemplative. Assessing. 

And then grips the end of the leash tight in his other hand. Tugs.  

You obey the wordless command, crawling on your hands and knees to where he's spread out on the recliner. Laxed, dripping with a careless indifference as you wander to him, resting your chin on the spread of his knee. 

Looking up, up, at him, waiting. Wanting. 

There's so much of him—a fact that has been the catalyst to your downfall the moment you saw him standing under the awning; this massive creature. Thighs wider than the width of your body. Burly forearms. Broad shoulders. He's big. Indomitable. Thick, endlessly so. But there's a give to his body. Valleys of softness hiding corded muscle. Firm, but—

Your fingers sink into the soft give of his belly when you reach out, bracing against stomach. Pulling yourself further into the bracket of his spread thighs, inching closer to him. 

He meets your reverent stare, eyes liquid along his lower lash line.

“Thought you were gonna keep me waitin’ all night,” he muses, giving another pull on the leash. It destabilises you. Your nose bumps into his sternum, and you moan at the sting. 

There's a dissonance in the back of your head. A hairline fracture in the line that keeps a degree of separation between pleasure and pain. They meet against the crack in the divide, merging into a abysmal polyphony conducted by his hand. 

He watches, amused, as you whimper, sniffing harshly against the burn. It's not bleeding, and not broken—small mercies, you suppose—and you let it simmer into a dull ache as you slowly clamber into his lap.

Ghost leans back as you settle, greedily taking in the sight of your thighs stretched wide over his leg, cunt pressed, tight, against the rough scrape of his jeans. The touch burns. He hasn't touched your pussy in weeks—

“C’mon,” he urges, hand spanning the width of your lower back. Coaxing. “Show me ‘ow good you can be.”

It's all the permission you need. Slowly, slowly, your hips start to gyrate, dragging your slit over the coarse material. The friction is agony. You need more—

He draws his other hand up, curls it around your neck, forcing your head back, back. You gasp, staring at him, dizzy, from down the slope of your nose. The clasp of the collar digs into your skin. It hurts. It's too much. 

you don't want him to stop. 

His hand is huge. It spans the entire length of your neck, thumb to your pulse, pinky grazing the hollow of your throat. It forces you to lift your chin higher just to let him fit.

He likes it, too, you know. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of his bare hand, scarred and thick; dusted with a cropping of fine hairs along his scabbed knuckles, sitting against the whole of your throat. Swallowing you up. Can feel how much he enjoys the sheer depth between your sizes when his cock twitches, stiffening more

The look on his face is appraising, anatomising. There's a cold measure of distance in his gaze. A barren polynya. You want to cross it. Chart these untamed lands until they're deeply ingrained within your being. Cimmerian effigy burning to keep you warm. 

It's survival, you think, and arch into the palm of his hand. 

He holds you like a doll. One hand on your lower back, pressing your cunt to thigh. The other tightening around your throat. Bare skin against bare skin, and oh, you could just cry—

But this is not what you need. What you want. And he knows. He always does. Knows the inside of you like it's written down—inked on paper. Thumbs through the makeup of you, chapter by chapter, until no mystery remains. 

“Tell me what you need, pet. Beg for it.” 

“Let me—” his hands tighten, choking the air from your throat. Crushing your collar against your neck. “Lemme—kiss you, please, please—”

Tighter. Tighter. The world around you swims under a thin ocean. Phosphenes swim, untethered, in your periphery, ghosting along the curve of his shoulders. He might kill you yet. Keeping going, going, until those brittle, bird-like bones in your neck snap—

You'd let him, you think, muscles falling lax. Submissive. Just the way he says he likes even though you know he fucks you harder, touches you more, more, when you act out. Misbehave. 

“Kiss me?” He taunts, words abrasive. Strident. Scrubbing hard against your skin. “Ain't that jus’ the sweetest thing I ever ‘eard.” 

You burn, blister. “Please—”

“Reckon I ought to. Kissed your pretty cunt ‘fore I even kissed your lips, huh, pet?” 

Your chest folds over itself. Stomach knotting. Balling tight. Unease is a razor blade scraping your nerves. 

“Simon—”

“Ah, ah—” his hand tightens. Vicious. Chiding. “You ‘aven’t earned the privilege of sayin’ my name, ‘ave you? Cheeky thing. Might ‘ave to take a cane to you next.” 

“No, no, no—! I'm—”

“Sorry?” He mocks, cocking his head. Condescension drips from the corners of his eyes. 

“Please, sir—”

“Dad is gettin’ tired of this attitude of yours, pet—” his fingers dig into your skin, hard. Biting. A warning, you know. The blunt press of a blade to your jugular. But it thrums along the suture line to your desire, a wellspool of murk coiling low in your guts. You throb, cunt clenching down around nothing. Achingly empty. “Thought we got rid of it this time ‘round. Learned our lesson.”

The words are frank, prosaic. Had you any sense of self still malingering in the back of your head, you might have struck him for the blatant disrespect. But as you struggle to reach for it, pawing around in the vacuous abyss for any fragment of who you were before this, before him, you know—without any doubt—that none exists. Nothing. He’s too ingrained in your marrow, hewn into your skin. Copper sutures holding his filament within you. Cradled between your thighs, nestled in the rotting vacancy of your heart. 

He knows you. Every part—

“We did—we did, da—daddy, please—” 

It’s shallow. Muffled, like he’s trying to swallow it down, but you feel it rumble through his broad chest. A guttural sound. A groan. Drenched in pleasure, in want. So thick, you could almost taste it. 

He hides his need under a layer of derision. 

“Such a needy thing, ain't you? Desperate little slag like you wouldn't last out there, would you?” 

His hand digs into your hip, pushing you off of his thigh. Eyes skewering into the wet stain on his trousers. A huff spills out—the sound a near perfect mimicry of crushing charcoal in your hand. 

“No. You'd be eaten alive. Torn to pieces. World's too big for somethin' like you.”

Mindless, dazed, you nod. Arching into him. The leather leash snaps against your chest. “Yes, yes—”

His cock presses into your thigh, hard, fat. Your mouth waters. Drool dribbles down your chin. 

He smells of tinder when he leans in close, blood drenched words biting into your skin. “messy today, aren't you? Be lost without me. Tha’s why you wear a collar, isn't it?”

Pitifully, you nod. Eyes full of tears. Each word is a bludgeon into your resolve. Into your sense of self. 

But it earns you his affection, and his thumb presses into the corner of your mouth, unhinging your jaw until it falls open, lax. He holds you like that, mouth lax with his hand still around your neck. The other lifts away from your lips, goes to the thick band around the bridge of his nose, slips inside. 

There's no buildup to it. No lingering sense of anticipation. Practical, detached, he merely tugs it down, and lets it snap under his chin. 

Your breath is punched out of your lungs at the sight of him. Barefaced. Scarred. His nose is crooked; a jagged hook with scar tissue delineating the spots where it's been broken too many times. His lips are—

Full. 

Mangled. 

Scars run in thick slashes over them, denting the flesh in places. Burn marks line his pale flesh. Charcoal rubs into his eyes, highlighting the whites of his lashes against smeared soot. 

He's—

Pretty. 

Like a car crash. Calamity. The broken remains of a town after a hurricane, a tornado, ripped it apart. Ugly, brutal. His face looks like it's been mauled by a bear, a tiger. Scarred and hideous, and—

You shiver. His eyes drop, landing on your own lips. The soot on his brow flutters down, lands on his eyelashes when he lifts his brow up mockingly. Derision curdling an awful smirk on the corner of his mouth. Crooked. Like him. Like his teeth. His nose. His boxy jaw. His lips—

You kiss him. 

Can't help yourself, really. There's a pull. Gravitational. Magnetic. You need, need, to taste him. To quench this ache in your jaw that makes you want to wrap your tongue around something, play with it between your teeth. Soft and sweet—

Ghost's lips are plump beneath yours. The thick scar tissue is almost velveteen when it glides over your bottom lip. You moan into it, into the feeling; victory—however pyrrhic—swims like mercury in your veins. Finally. 

And he doesn't kiss you back. Doesn't make any effort to reciprocate at all, but he's not tense beneath you. Not stunned. Or reluctant. He’s pliant. Malleable. Agreeable, willing to let you devour his mouth, his taste, as much as you want. Doting. Letting you spoil yourself on him. With him.

Because you need him, don't you? 

Like the air you breathe. The food he gives you—apples, always, on rainy days; salmon and rice in a pretty bowl with your name etched into the porcelain—and the attention, the affection—

(suck my cock, pretty girl. don't make me put a gag on you—deeper, you can take it, can't you? take my fat cock all the way up inside your sweet little cunt—my pretty girl—)

—it’s all so divine. 

His hands on your body, your throat, spasm. Once. Just once. Against your leg, his cock twitches. Leaks prespend into the demin. You rut against his thigh, aching for it. Whimpering—

And then he's groaning into the kiss, snarling out your name until it wedges between your lungs, syphoned in from his scorching breath. Another brand in the shape of him. 

Ghost kisses the same way he eats—messy, sloppy; all teeth and tongue, and full pretty lips. Clumsy, like no one taught him how to properly hold his silverware and he's trying to mock what he saw on television. Brumish. A broken, contemptuous pastiche of sumptuosity. A starving dog, snarling around its plundered morsel. Protective. Possessive. 

It coils around you. Thick, smothering. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth, catching it between his teeth. The sting brings tears to the corner of your eyes, and when you pry them open, you find him already staring at you (always, always, always—), lidded. Heavy pools of desire shaded in the brume of a winter dawn. A bonfire flickering in the distance of a whiteout. Sanctuary from the cold—

He seems to catch himself. Expression flickering. Warbling around the edges. It closes off in a blink. He pulls back. Locks into the ashlar veneer of this indifference he wears like a suit of armour. 

But you saw it. It was there. Within reach—

“Need me, don't you?” He drawls, timber a needlepoint between cruelty and desire. Sultry, low. Husky. He knows what it does to you. How he can unravel you at the seams with just his voice alone. “Need me so fuckin’ much, pet. Would be lost without me—”

“Please, Simon,” you whisper, feather-soft. Cunt throbbing, pulsing. Needy. “Please—”

The strident reprimand for using his name doesn't come. His hand tightens around your throat, unconscious. A paroxysm that has pleasure carving itself down your spine, electric. 

“Come get it, then,” he rasps, voice wrecked. Raw. Curling at the edges, thickening his accent until the words elide. 

Hand to your throat, he drags you close. Closer still. Keeps you sat pretty on his lap as he pulls you in for a bruising, hungry kiss. Tongue shoving between your teeth when you gasp.

His kisses are always hungry, but this is different. Greedy. He devours you whole. Eats you alive. His hand falls to your lower back, holding you tight to his chest.

You moan into it, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Squeezing until your knuckles blanche, joints twinging in discomfort. 

After months of nothing, this alone is bliss. His taste soaking onto your tongue, drenching it in the bitter tang of sage, wheatgrass, and stale cigarettes. Intoxicating. It leaks into you, nocuous. Infects from the inside out. 

His plan coming to fruition, you think. What he sought out to do all along, ever since you wandered close to this untameable Tartarean guard, and offered yourself up to the jowls of a starving beast. 

He pulls away with a heavy breath, eyes charing around the edges; brittle briquette. 

“Gonna be a good girl from now on? Come upstairs, be a good mum for dad? Or am I gonna ‘ave to cane this—” his hand drops, grabbing a fistful of your ass in his hand, fingers digging into the skin between your cheeks. Possessive. It cracks like a whip down your nerves. “—tight lit’le arse?”

You shake your head instantly. Quickly. “I'll be good,” you whisper into his chin, tongue flicking out to lick across his scars. The dried sweat on his skin tastes briny. Reminds you of the ocean on a brumous November evening. The incipient yawn of a ravenous hurricane gathering its lot on the shore. 

Sirens blare in the distance. Fear curdles in your guts, sits heavy like a stone. An anchor. 

“So sweet f’me,” he mutters, words deepening as his head falls back, letting you pepper kisses across the underside of his jaw. Mouthing along the constellation of scars. His voice is rumble. It shivers across your lips, tongue. Shakes the marrow in your bones. “Better stay this way, pet.”

Into his pulse, you murmur, “I think you like it better when I’m bad.” 

You can feel the snarl brimming in the back of his throat. Your ass stings with the phantom burn of when he lashed out with the whip. It drags a whimper out from deep within your chest. 

His hand tightens around your neck. A warning. “Got some guests over f’dinner tonight. Would love to finally introduce them to my sweet little wife—” deft fingers slip across the dewy skin of your folds, knuckles grazing over your drenched hole. The touch makes you squirm. “But if you’re gonna be bad, then I’ll leave you locked up down ‘ere.”

“I’ll be good,” you swear, words a hushed breath over his jugular. His finger flattens, drawls soft, slow circles around your clit. “Ah, I’ll—I’ll be so, so good, Simon—”

“Good girls deserve rewards, don’t they?” His palm flexes possessively around your throat when you nip at old scar tissue. “Maybe I’ll let you sleep in our bed tonight instead of in your dog house. We can ‘ouse together. I’ll fuck you proper—” he roughly shoves two fingers into your hole, leering when you gasp, back arching in a bow. “Know this pretty pussy has been achin’ for me, ‘asn’t it? Gonna breed it full—”

There’s static in your head, ringing in your ear. The noise distorted, pulled underwater. You think you say something, plead—no, no, no, anything but that—but his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pushing up, up into you, notching against that spot inside that makes your head swim, your vision flicker. The abyssal chasm inside of you aches, rages; its waters swell, currents frothing, slamming against the ceiling of its iron prison, and—

Simon pulls away. Fingers stilling inside of you. No friction, no relief. Hypoxia renders the world silent. Muted. Held in stasis, stagnating at the edge of a gaping precipice he holds you over, secured by the fragile curve of your neck, fine bone china. 

Phosphenes swim by. The chossy wobbles.

This distance is agony. You need to be closer, closer, to crawl inside of him, to live in the brackets of his ribs, safe and protected from the world he warns you about. Stone cold. You mewl, whine—

“Gonna be my good little wife?”

Gasping with broken lungs, you nod. Nod, nod until you’re nauseous. Dizzy. Sick—

His spit cools on your lip. Your hackles raise, body shuddering in revulsion—some primal part rears, hisses it’s infectious. Wrong. Get rid of it—

“Not gonna run?”

Slowly, you lick your lips, catching his sickness on your tongue. Swallowing it down until it sinks like a stone to the bottom of your belly. Heavy, for such a small, damning thing. 

How absurd, you think. How absolutely mad. 

Then you whisper, paperthin, “kiss me again, please, Simon—”

And he moves. Liquid in the gloam. Made more for shadows, midnight, than for golden apricity, where the light is harsh on his face, unveiling ruins and ravines; monoliths meant to be paid tribute to in the dark. Your hands lift to his jaw when he moves in, catching your lips in a bruising, biting kiss. 

His touch is searing. Owning. He isn't laying claim: no, you're already his. 

It's possessive and angry. No finesse. All slate teeth and tender tongue. They slide together in a strange game; little fawn stupidly nipping at the tiger's heel. He lets you, groaning into your mouth when you arch back, hips pushing into his fingers, taking him deeper. A pale pantomime of what's to come when he lays you on his soft bed, sweet and divine, and buries himself deep. 

It should scare you. Ought to. And maybe it does. Survival, you think, but you still pull him closer. Deeper. Because it’s bliss, you find. The world around you falling dead. Silent. Pulled into a vacuum. Teetering on the edge of a black hole, event horizon. He drags you in. 

Simon hums, pulling you closer. Touching you—soft, sweet. Palms a gyve. Shackles, chains. His fingers lift from your neck, trailing down the slope of your throat until he reaches the golden loop of your collar's hook. His gaze glides, magmatic, down to where your leash dangles between your heaving breasts.

It's almost tender when he grabs it into his fist. When he pulls, pulls—

Your back arching. His fingers slipping deeper inside your cunt. Obedient little doll.

When he lifts his eyes, the look you find is hot enough to char bone. You taste blood in the back of your throat—

Into the seam of your mouth, he purrs, “good girl.”

—and you swallow it down with a moan. 

(after all, you know better than to run from starving dogs—)

[kpop---scenarios]

Revenge Is A Bitch (1)

Pairing: Nichkhun x Reader | Jaehyun x Reader

Warning: Eventual smut, cheating, angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Surprise! It's now a series. Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Summary: You're life with Nichkhun was amazing, until you went to visit him on a business trip, where you meet Jaehyun, a friend and coworker of your boyfriend. Things escalate quickly from a little flirting in a club, but things get even worse when Nichkhun finds out. "

Y/N." Nichkhun growls. "Give it back." He says, trying his best not to smile. You stand on the other side of the couch, his phone in your hand as you stick your tongue out at him. 

"You want it back?" You ask.

He nods his head. 

"Then come get it." You yell, laughing as he charges for you, bursting out into laughter as well. Sometimes you were needy, especially when you felt like he was paying more attention to his phone than you. You giggle and scream as you run around the couch, Wooyoung sitting on the couch watching the two of you in disgust. Nichkhun grabs you, pulling you into him, peppering your face in kisses. You stop fighting him and he sets you down as you both continue laughing. You give him back his phone and he slides it into his pocket before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

"I love you, beautiful." He whispers. 

"And I love you." You grin, placing a kiss on his lips. 

"And I'm gonna be sick." Wooyoung groans, leaving the living room as the two of you laugh at his annoyance and disgust of your love. It had been two years of just pure bliss and happiness with Nichkhun, something you never thought you'd ever find, until you found him. 

A few hours later, you were sitting on the edge of the bed with your arms crossed as you watched Nichkhun pack a bag. As usual, a last minute business meeting came up, and he was taking off for a week. 

"Babe, where's my blue suit? The one with the stripes.. yanno?" He yells from inside the closet. As much as you didn't want to help him, you begrudgingly stood up, shuffling towards the closet to help him find the suit he needed. You roll your eyes as you walk in, and Nichkhun is on one knee, holding a ring pop, making you laugh. "I'm sorry I have to leave my love, but with this ring, I hope you remember that I love you, and I can't wait to come back to you and marry you one day." He grins. 

He always knew how to make you feel better and put a smile on your face. Some days you swore he knew you better than you knew yourself. You take the ring and stick it on your finger as he stands up. 

"Now, I actually do need my suit." He laughs. 

"You mean the one that's hanging right in front of you?" You giggle, taking it off the rack and handing it to him. 

"My savior." He grins, putting it carefully in his bag. 

"Toothbrush?" You ask him, beginning to list off the items he needs. 

"Yes!" He exclaims. 

"Underwear? Socks? Passport? Wallet? Casual clothes?" You ask. 

"Check, check, check.. where's my passport?" He asks worriedly. Despite only going to a different city, he still needed it. 

"Nightstand, left hand side." You sigh. He quickly leaves the closet, going to his nightstand as you zip up his bag, bringing it into the bedroom. 

"Like I said, my savior." He grins. 

"I'll call you when I land." He says before answering his ringing phone. "I'll be right down." 

He gives you a quick peck before heading through your lavish apartment, with you following behind him, watching him walk out the front door, leaving you alone. 

It had been a few days and you still hadn't heard from Nichkhun. This really wasn't unusual for him, considering he got very busy with work but he hadn't even sent you a goodnight text in the last 3 days, and that made you really sad. So you decided to do something about it. With a plan in your head you went to sleep, knowing you had an early morning ahead of you. 

When you woke up, you booked your last minute ticket, and began packing your bags. You felt a frisson of excitement skate across your nerve endings as you zipped up your bags and waited for your ride to the airport. You very rarely, well actually never had surprised Nichkhun, but this time it felt right. It felt like it was going to be a wonderful surprise. 

After a smooth flight, you caught a cab, and told him to go to the hotel Nichkhun was at. You felt like nothing could go wrong, this was the perfect plan, with a perfect execution. You paid the nice cab driver, who also took your bags from his car for you and you went into the lobby to wait for Nichkhun. You called his phone a few times, but he didn't pick up. You look around the fancy hotel and observe a couple who seemed to not be able to keep their hands off each other. You loved that for them. You smiled to yourself, imagining you and Nichkhun being that publicly annoying. You wished you could show your love and passion the way they were. The way they touched each other, it spoke of passion and need and familiarity. 

You looked at your phone that has now gone to voicemail six times, you glance up once more and see the faces of the couple that enter the elevator with tears in your eyes. 

**

“Welcome to Club Arriba! What can I get you to drink?”

"6 shots of your strongest liquor." You yell, slapping the credit card that Nichkhun had given you for emergencies. Clearly this was one, and so was the lavish hotel room, and the room service you had ordered before coming to the club. 

"You got it." The bartender smiles, sliding the cars off the bar. You stand there waiting for your shots when three girls approach you. 

"I love your dress." One giggles. You hold up your finger, asking for a moment before you quickly, and quite professionally down four of the six shots you had bought. 

"Thank you." You grin. You turn to the bartender and wave him over. "Four more shots for me and my new friends." You yell, taking the last two shots on the counter. 

And like that, you had made friends with some really nice girls, who bought you drinks too. The four of you were dancing, laughing and having a great time when you feel a pair of hands land on your hips. You look behind him and see an extremely handsome man smiling down at you. You don't mind, you enjoy the attention, besides it wasn't like you were getting much these days anyways. You move your body closer to his, swaying your hips to the beat of the music, while smiling at your new friends, who were also dancing with others. As you were getting more into it, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist. You look up and see a man that you absolutely recognize trying to pull you away from the other man that had begun groping you. 

"What are you doing?" You ask. Glaring at the man. You know him.. from.. Nickhun's office. "Jaehyun?" You ask. He looks at you surprised that you remembered his name. He pulls you away from the man, through the crowd to a secluded hallway. He swings you around, pushing you against the wall as he crosses his arms. 

"What the hell are you doing?" He asks. "You're in a relationship with my good friend and my boss." He hisses. 

"Mhm, are you sure you're as good of a friend as you think you are?" You ask, tilting your head to the side. 

"I don't understand what you mean." He sighs. 

Of course he doesn't. No one knows, you didn't even know until this morning. 

"What do you want, Jae? Should I blow you so you don't tell my precious Nichkhun?" You ask, pouting. 

"I would never do that to Nichkhun." He deepens. "I'm going to have to tell him about this." He finishes. 

You shrug your shoulders, pushing yourself off the wall. "Do what you gotta do." You say. “You know what I’ll help you tell him." You say, taking out your phone. Jaehyun stands there, watching you, unsure of what you're doing.  You turn around with snapchat open, and kiss him on the cheek before snapping a picture before he moves away from you.  

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you realize that this looks fucking bad?" He yells.  

"I've seen the way you look at me when I come into the office. Do you want a taste Jae? Would you like to feel me gripping you while inside me? How about how wet and warm it would feel to cum inside me? So good."  You whisper into his ear. 

Jaehyun moves back from you, looking partially offended, and partially turned on from what you said. He doesn't say anything to you, he just walks away, and you watch him disappear into the crowd. You adjust your dress and throw your shoulders back and walk back to your new friends. 

As you continue to dance, you can feel eyes on you, raking your body up and down. You look around and see Jaehyun leaning against the bar, his arms crossed as he watches you. The way your hands roam your body, the way you lick your lips as you watch him. You can feel his guard being let down as he begins to inch closer to you. The rush of victory flows through your body as he walks towards you. 

"Let me take you home." He says, offering his hand to you. He slides Nichkhun's credit card back in your purse and he weaves the two of you out of the club. 

"Are you trying to get in my panties, Jaehyun?" You ask, looking at the handsome man. 

"I'm just taking you home." He says. 

The two of you are standing outside your hotel room as you put your key in and open the door to your large suite. 

"Don't tell Nichkhun I'm here." You say, walking inside, Jaehyun following you. 

"Let's just get you to bed." He sighs. 

You stand in front of him, pulling your dress off, dropping it on the floor. You're almost naked, in front of your boyfriend's good friend, feeling nothing but lust and attraction for this man. 

Jaehyun takes a deep breath. "Fuck it." He whispers, crashing his lips onto yours, pushing you onto the bed. Your fun starts now, and soon Nichkhun will know that revenge is a bitch. 

[dayglovv]

—𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

     Guido Mista x Reader

desc: you’ve been there for Mista for as long as he can remember. that’s just what best friends do. he wants more, but is it worth sacrificing the friendship for his feelings? 

wc: 5.5k

a/n: based on the songs Fuck Up The Friendship and  Lo Que Tú Me Das! I love the friends to lovers trope, and considering I’ve been wanting to write something super long, this was the perfect opportunity to capture both. likewise, I’ve been a lil sad lately so I hope this cheers you up as it did for me 💕 please enjoy, and if you can, spare a lil extra love!! this bad boy took three days to write.

tags: cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, dirty talk, stretching, premature ejaculation, creampie, minor dom!Reader

tw: not sfw, vomiting, mentions of death and alcohol

     HIS MOTHER ALWAYS used to say that burying someone was the living’s way of returning the dead to the Earth. “Back from where they came,” she murmured. “Two meters deep — enough to have the soil hug you.” 

    He first heard it when his nonno died 11 years ago, and again when Nonna died two years later. To be honest, Guido Mista never understood what his mother was talking about.

    Not until he met you.

    You were a storm in the simple life that Mista had so carefully crafted. So full of energy, so full of life. You forced him to feel alive. Your laugh sounded like a million bells chiming in his head. Your ideas, for as dumb as they were, always matched his pace.

    For as chaotic as you were, it felt as if you had always meant to be a part of his life. Which is why he’s in the midst of dragging you back to his apartment.

    “You didn’t have to come to pick me up, yanno,” you slur, the stinging smell of alcohol laced between your words.

    “Yeah, I know.” Fuck, when did you get so heavy? He once read that babies can make themselves heavier when they’re having a tantrum, and honestly, that fits at the moment. “But Trish can’t carry you herself, so. Just shut up.”

    Trish’s text came about an hour ago.

         Trish           hey           [Name] drank a little too much and I need help :(           can you pick us up? ill pay for gas

     Needless to say, Mista was out the door 55 minutes ago. He made it to the bar 30 minutes ago. 20 minutes ago did he drop off Trish. And finally, after force-feeding you water and dabbing the sweat from your forehead, he finally made it home with your arm around his shoulders.

    You’re wearing the perfume that he bought you for your birthday. Spicy yet warm, something he found so perfect for you the moment he found it. He can remember how wide your eyes opened the moment you saw it, how you threw your arms around him and thanked him over and over again for such a thoughtful gift. He’s happy that you’re wearing it now. But that doesn’t negate how fucking pissed he is at the moment.

    That smell permeates his nostrils as he frantically searches for the keys in his pockets. The loud jangling and your heels would surely wake his landlord on the floor below. Mista clicks his tongue at the thought of another scolding — and because of you, goddammit — but he tries to push the idea out of his head. The last thing he needs is another headache.

    His front door creaks open, but with a swift kick, he shuts it back close. It slams within its hinges, causing you both to flinch. Shit. Okay, yeah, he’s definitely going to get a scolding in the morning. Though that’s not his priority at the moment.

    Mista sits you at his kitchen table. You’re still swaying, even in the chair, but he’s glad that you’re at least conscious. He removes your shoes from your feet, and taking a napkin from the table, he dabs that last bit of sweat from your forehead.

    “You’re really stupid, you know that?” Thankfully, you’re functioning, too. That’s why he’s being so mean. Partly because yes, he’s pissed, but also to get it through your thick skull. “Do you even know what time it is?”

    “Midnight thirty,” you mumble. “It’s not even that late. You’re just old.”

    Mista doesn’t even grace you with a response. He simply heaves a long sigh, then fills a glass of water for you. The water finds itself in front of you, with the gunslinger taking the seat beside you.

    But before you can drink it, your hand flies to your mouth, your feet rushing you to Mista’s sink.

    He only sighs again.

    Nonetheless, he stands up from his seat, following you to the sink. His fingers comb through your hair, pulling strands away from your sweat-soaked face. Your hair bunches together into a ponytail held only by his fist, his other hand running along your back. The warm smell of your perfume is replaced by the foul smell of stomach acid and overpriced mixed drinks.

    Christ. Even when you’re vomiting in his sink, you’re beautiful.

      ...

    Wait.

    Ew, what the fuck, Mista? Don’t be weird. You’re his best friend! The gunslinger mentally slaps himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

    It is true to an extent, though. Even when you’re messy and being so stupidly difficult, he can’t help but be in love with you. He knew that loving you would be difficult. He’s always known. You’re a tempest in his neatly-organized, simple life. Accepting you would make that life so much more complicated. 

    He’s never been good with words, but with you, he feels as though he’s being buried. Even though it’s suffocating and it’s dark and it’s scary, it’s where he’s always meant to be. Returning to the Earth as his mom used to say. Right with you.

    You’ve always been there for him. 

    Like when Nonna died. He can remember feeling you entwine your fingers with his as they lowered her casket. It wasn’t raining, but it sure felt like it. His tears wouldn’t stop coming. His nose wouldn’t stop running. And for as pathetic as he looked, you refused to leave his side.

    And at the end of the day, you gave him the most bone-crushingly tight hug he had ever had in his life. When he asked what your deal was, you only smiled and cupped his cheeks between your soft, little hands.

    “To squeeze all the sad out, dummy!”

    The least he could do is be there for you, too.

    Your drawn-out exhale brings Mista out of his thoughts. You sit up from the sink, your hands gripping its steel rim. You’re okay now, mostly sober. He’s seen you drunk out of your mind enough times to know that you are.

    “Here,” he says, reaching back to the table for the glass he brought you. “Drink.”

    You do as told. He knows that the water is too cold for your liking, which is evident enough from your flinching at the cool taste. But you still drink it, forcing down the acidity back to your stomach.

    You finish the water with a long “Ahhh!” before leaving the glass in the sink. Mista knows that your headache will set in soon, and while it’s too soon to give you any painkillers, he places the medicine on the kitchen counter regardless. Just in case you want them sometime in the night.

    “Let’s go lay down,” he continues. He swings your arm around his shoulder once more (not before flushing your mess down the sink drain, of course), and leads you to the humble living room he’s assembled behind his kitchen.

    His couch feels plush against your stiff figure. Mista leans you against the armrest, just in case your stomach acts up and you need to vomit again. The last thing he needs tonight is for you to choke and die. After everything that he’s done? Think again.

    He stands back, satisfied with his work. “Here, I’m gonna grab you something else to wear. Hold on.” But before he can run off to his closet, he feels something tug on his shirt.

    “Wait.” Your voice is raspy and your grip is weak, but it’s enough to catch his attention. “Stay with me.”

    “It’ll just be a couple seconds.”

    “Please, Guido.”

    You never use his first name. Ever since he’s asked you to call him by his last name because that’s what all the cool football players do, you’ve happily obliged. It’s the first time you’ve used his first name since you were kids.

    Mista blinks. Nonetheless, he relents, taking his spot next to you.

    You return his gesture with a smile. “Here. Let me just…” And with the dip of your head, you’re laying on his chest, your arms wrapped around his figure.

    You’ve hugged Mista several times. More times than he can count. That just comes with the territory of being friends for over five years. You’ve hugged him after nights out and many celebrations, but never like this.

    He covers his hand with his mouth, his gaze turning to anything but you. “What is with you tonight?”

    “Why are you taking care of me?”

    Ah. Ignoring his question, he sees. Mista removes his hand from his mouth, placing it on your arm and giving it a squeeze. Keep it cool, Mista. Keep it cool.

    “Because we’re friends and that’s what friends do? C’mon, [Name]. You’re smarter than this.”

    “But this isn’t the first time.” Your grip tightens. “You’ve never left me hanging. Even for all the stupid things I do, you still find me and take me home. I don’t get it. I’m not worth any of this trouble.”

    Not worth any of this trouble? If only you could see his face. His features softened as you said that, his brows knitting and lips forming a tight line. You’re worth all of this, he thinks to himself. I want to do this for you. Because I love you.

    He just can’t get himself to tell you.

    “Not to me.” He moves his hand up and down your arm. It’s his way of comforting you. He’s never been the best at it, admittedly. But he does try.

    “But you called me stupid. Shouldn’t you be spending your time on someone else?”

    “Well, yeah, you’re stupid. But your stupid meshes with my stupid, you get me? I wanna help you because I can. I’m not gonna let some other dumbass try to take care of you. That’s my job.”

    “But why? No one is forcing you to take care of me.”

    That just comes along with my feelings for you.  “Like I said, I can and I will.”

    “You don’t have to.”

    Sure, but I love you. “But I want to.”

    “I just don’t get why.”

    Because I love you. “Because I love you.”

    Wait.

    Did he just say that out loud?

    “I mean! In a platonic way! The way friends are supposed to love each other!” Mista’s desperately trying to take back everything now. That’s what he gets for narrating everything in his head. Who’s the stupid one now?

    “Mista.”

    “Love is subjective anyway, right? There are so many ways to see it.”

    “Mista.”

    “Like, how I love you is definitely not like the romantic kind of love. It’s the 'take care of your friend when they’re stupidly drunk'-type, you know?”

    “Mista.”

    “What?”

    “I love you, too.”

    “...What?”

    You sit up from his chest so that you can face him. Your legs come up from their places, folding themselves in a cross-cross. Your eyes are watching him carefully, the way that always makes him nervous. He always thought your eye color was beautiful, but seeing them look at him the way he’s always wanted them to… He’s overwhelmed, to say the least.

    You try to break the tension by offering him another smile. Mista’s shoulders relax, and he returns your smile the best way he can. 

    “I love you, too,” you repeat. He watches as you take his hands in yours, just as you did all those years ago. “I’m sorry I got mopey… I just really like you. I have for a while now. I couldn’t comprehend someone like you being there for someone like me and. Um... I wasn’t expecting you to confess, but I’m glad that you did.”

     ....Is he dreaming? This can’t be real. He has to play back everything to make sure that he heard you right.

    So there you are. Sitting across from him. Voicing everything he’s thought about back to him. You love him. He loves you. And he’s wasted years pining over you, when he could’ve had you here, with him, this whole time.

    “Are… Are you for real?” A beat. Should he just come clean now? Ah, fuck it. “I've, uh… I’ve thought the same thing about you. But you’re so smart and gorgeous and I’m just… not. I don’t have a lot to offer.”

    You don't even hesitate. “You’ve already offered me more than enough. You don’t have to be smart or rich to impress me. You’ve done so much already.”

    “I could say the same about you. You really are amazing, [Name].”

    “Pfft, and so are you, Guido.”

    There you go again, using his first name. You follow this brief moment of intimacy with bringing the gunslinger’s knuckles to your lips, leaving a soft peck on both. He’s dreamed of this moment for so long, to admit to you how much he’s loved you for all these years, only for you to steal his thunder. How typical of you. But he’s not mad. Not any more. Not in the slightest.

    And while you might have taken the spotlight on sharing your true feelings, he can at least steal the show.

    Mista takes his hand, placing it on your cheek to bring your face to his. He feels you stiffen at his touch, but you return the gesture by cupping his face with your own hands. Within seconds you’re melting, and he can’t help but smile as he kisses you.

    Funny how you did the same thing all those years ago — press your palms against his cheeks to squeeze the sad out — only for you to be doing it again. Yet this time there is no sad to squeeze out. Maybe a little, but only because he’s kicking himself for not confessing sooner.

    And God, you are just so fucking warm. You make him feel warm. So many years of friendship, so many moments he’s thought about how much he loves you and yet you still manage to give him butterflies. He loves kissing you. And he knows you love it, too. Hearing you hum onto his lips as he slips his tongue in is more than enough of an invitation to press further. He wants more.

    “I love you,” he repeats. He moves his hand from your face to the back of your head, supporting your figure as he kisses you. “I love you so damn much.”

    His kisses migrate from your lips to your cheek, then to your jawbone and finally, your neck. You take this as your own invitation to press further, moving from your spot and onto his lap. Mista groans as you do this. Fuck, that’s hot. And there’s so much more he can offer you. He knows you’ll let him. You’ve both spent far too long waiting for this moment.

    His kisses are light and delicate, as small as the baby’s breath blossoms he’d pick for you as children. He loves feeling the rumble of your moan from your throat — so much so that he’ll do anything he can to get more of it.

    So he moves one hand to your ass, while the other gets to work unbuttoning your shirt. He hums as the last button unfurls with a tiny, little pop!, and within seconds, his hand finds itself under your bra.

    “Ah… Guido…” His name sounds so beautiful on your tongue. It’s been years since you’ve used it, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to it. He needs more.

    “You like that, baby?” He takes your sensitive nipple and plays with it, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. Like everything about you, it’s soft. Warm. So fucking lovely. “Say my name again.”

    “That— a-ah. G-Guido!” you manage to force out.

    That’s all he needed. Mista takes your breast in his hand, bringing that sensitive nub to his mouth. One benefit of being your best friend is that you’ve told him everything. Including how you never felt spoiled by any of your previous exes. Christ, he’s so excited to change that.

    So he laps his tongue over your nipple, suckling it, squeezing your breast with his hand. He’s so desperate to make you feel good. There were so many instances where he knew he could treat you better than your exes. Your moans are indication enough that he’s off to a great start. Such a simple sound, yet something that travels to the pit of his stomach nonetheless.

    You taste faintly of salt, likely from dancing with Trish, but Mista keeps licking and sucking and licking and sucking until your nipple is nothing but hot saliva. You whimper as your bud grows sensitive, to which Mista flickers his eyes up to you. Ugh. He forgot how cute you are. He was so focused on making you feel good that he neglected to see your lips pouting — those perfect, full lips — and your eyes shining under his dim overhead light.

    He moves to your other nipple, gaze unmoving from your face. Yet when he sees you cry out in delight, how your eyes squeeze shut and your teeth bite at those perfect fucking lips, he has to kiss you again.

    You wrap your arms around Mista’s neck as he returns his lips to yours, pulling him close to you. He wastes no time slipping his tongue in once more. It’s messy and it’s clumsy, just as he is, but it’s not like you mind, anyway. He knows you don’t. Everything about Mista is improvised. Yet being around him is what coming home feels like. Welcoming. Right.

    He pulls away just for the faintest moment, his dark eyes staring into yours. He blinks. And the goofiest smile emerges on his face. “I love you so fucking much, [Name]. And I promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

    “Pfft, you’re shit at keeping promises.”

    “C’mon! Lemme have this moment.”

    And with that, Mista lifts you and places you back onto the couch, facing outward. He wastes no time unbuttoning your pants, and you feel as he drags the fabric from your legs and onto the floor. Oh. Getting hasty so soon?

    “What are you doing?” you ask with a small laugh. Mista’s taking off your panties now. “Wait—”

    “Keeping my promise. Now shut up.”

    Before you can say anything else, Mista runs his tongue over your slit. You respond with another moan, and he can feel that rumble in his stomach again. He’s cursing himself for not being more patient and teasing you more but. Whatever. He’s come this far.

    So he takes your legs and swings them over his shoulders. A way to help balance yourself, he reasons, but also to feel your thighs against him. He wraps one arm around your leg to reach the fold above your clit, forcing it upwards to help maximize your pleasure. You find the other hand over your tit, his fingers at work playing with your nipple once more.

    Within seconds, Mista’s tongue is over your clit. He starts slow, lapping his tongue in long strokes along the fleshy nub. He’s trying to make up for rushing things, to make you feel as spoiled as you really deserve. He’s surprised that you’re this wet already, though not disappointed. How long had you been in love with him? How long had you waited for this moment?

    Feeling you grind against his mouth makes him reason that you’ve been waiting a while. “So greedy,” he teases. He continues with that slow pace, his fingers still at work with your nipple. He wants to electrify you with his touch. If he can make you feel as hot as you do to him, then he knows he’s succeeded.

    “Please,” you start. Your fingers wrap around his chestnut curls in a weak attempt to hasten his pace. “I want more.”

    “Hm.” He removes his hand from your breast, resting his index and his middle finger on the pad of your bottom lip. “You’ll have to do more if you want more.”

    He soon eats his words as he feels you take his fingers into your mouth. Your mouth is so warm and so wet, your tongue swirling around each finger so eagerly and salaciously. Fuck. It’s making his pants tighter. Is that what your pussy feels like? Taking him in with everything you have, opening yourself to be fucked by your best friend?

    You look so lewd with his fingers. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you bob your head, running his fingers along your own tongue. Your eyes stare back at him so innocently, so cutely, that he needs to wipe that smug expression off your face.

    In one last effort to get him to listen, you release his fingers and say, “I want more, Guido.”

    That does it. Mista takes his fingers and forces them into your tight pussy, his tongue running over your clit once more. He curls his fingers against the walls of your opening so perfectly, hitting your spongy insides in a way that makes your stomach twist. More is exactly what he gives you, with his adding another digit to your already-tight opening. He curls and he presses, again and again and again until you feel your head become light.

    “Sh-Shit,” you breathe. “I don’t wanna b-be fucked by anyone other than you.”

    His breath hitches. You know exactly what he wants to hear. The least he can do is reward you. 

    “Why d-did I wait so long f-for this?” you continue. “F-Fuck! Just fuck me!”

    If you say so. 

    He curls and he presses his fingers, running them along the walls of your pussy. He feels you clench his fingers, your thighs shaking against his shoulders. It’s the perfect view to see the quick rising and falling of your chest, your head thrown back as he finger fucks you. So beautiful, he muses to himself. And your reactions are all because of him.

    Mista’s method is, like all else about him, unpolished but entirely eager. He gets so focused on licking your clit that the movements of his finger pulses become jumbled. It’ll be seconds before he realizes that he’s still inside you, yet when he returns to the motion, that lightheadedness returns. He knows that you’re cursing him for being such an idiot, but he’s your idiot and he’s going to make you finish, anyway.

    He tries not to quicken his pace on your clit. Tufts of his hair are held by your perfect hands, a sign he takes as this being the perfect speed. Your grinding against his face is only making him more eager, though. He wants to help you finish so bad. To know that he made you cum. You waited years and years for him to fuck you, and now that he’s here, he wants to give you everything you deserve.

    “[Name],” he breathes. His voice is low in a way that you’ve never heard before, his tone rumbling against your clit. “Cum for me.”

    And that does it. A sudden wetness pools on Mista’s hand, warm and clear, as he pulls away from you. He loves how your thighs shake around his head. Even more, he loves how your eyes are shut, your mouth breathing one last uneven breath. You look even more perfect than how he imagined. 

    But he’s not done.

    And neither are you.

    Your hands rush to the bottom of his shirt, sliding it over his head and tossing it onto his rug. He responds by shimmying your unbuttoned shirt off your shoulders, your bra along with it. His lips find themselves against yours again as you feverishly undo his belt. 

    “See how good you taste?” he murmurs. You don’t say anything; your only response is your pushing Mista’s pants down his toned thighs. “Goddammit... I’ve waited too long to finally have you.”

    You’re smirking as he kisses you. He can feel it. Amongst many other things, he loves knowing everything that you like. Years of whispered secrets and quiet giggles have built up to this. He’s not going to waste it now. 

    It’s a fact that you acknowledge, too. With his boxers off, you hastily wrap your hand around his shaft. You can’t see anything with his pushing into you, his kisses desperate and warm, but. Dear lord. He feels so full in your hand. Much thicker than any of the other men you’ve been with. 

    Even still, you can’t tell how big he is. 15 centimeters, at least. Average, but you know it’s going to hurt once he inserts himself into you. It’s a thought that makes you excited; excited enough to quicken your pace in the same way that he so generously did for you.

    “A-Ah… [Name]...” His joints are so weak under your touch. And even after all this, he still can’t get rid of the butterflies in his stomach. He’s kicking himself for sounding so needy, but with your eager strokes, he can tell that you don’t mind. There are plenty of other embarrassing things Guido Mista has done in front of you.

    “You like being touched by me?” You catch his soft tone immediately. “How many times have you thought of this? How many times did you think of fucking your best friend?”

    He swallows. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now. “Too many times,” he admits.

    You’re not the only one who knows how to use your friendship to your advantage.

    Although you reposition yourself to lay on Mista’s couch, your hand remains unmoving from his cock. Mista follows by placing one leg, bent, on one side of your figure, the other standing to keep himself balanced. Curse this stupidly short couch he found on the corner of the block…

    He moans again as your grip tights, twisting slightly around his dick. He places his head in the crook of your neck again, his hot breath against your collarbone. Do you realize what you do to him? He’s had this moment replayed in his mind for so many years, rehearsed everything he would do to you. Yet the moment he gives you control, he becomes a panting mess. How embarrassing.

    “Sh-Shit…!” You’re rubbing his tip against your wet entrance now. He’s losing more control. But he has to see what you look like, to know exactly how your features twist as he fucks you properly.

    Mista pulls himself from your neck, and. His breath hitches. Not in the same way as before, not pathetic and desperate. He’s in awe. Your pretty eyes stare back at him, begging him to put himself inside you. Your cheeks are still flush from before, and God, it makes you look so damn cute. He loves that your face is still dewy, not because of the alcohol, but because of him. You’re so spent. Yet it’s obvious you want more.

    Despite all that, you take the moment from him again. You place his dick at your entrance and pull him toward you, effectively pushing him inside you. Mista’s breath hitches (just the same as before), and while it takes him a moment to compose himself, he takes this as his cue.

    He knew that being inside you would be good, but he’d never imagined it’d be this good. You feel so tight around him, so much warmer than he anticipated. Every part of your cunt squeezes his dick in just the right way. It’s evident from his uneven breathing as he thrusts in and out of you.

    “I— ah! I-I love you!” you cry. You wrap your arms around his neck in a poor attempt to settle yourself, but let’s be honest, why should you even try? He’s as thick as you thought he was, and even though it stings as he pumps into you, fuck if it doesn’t feel good—

    “Goddammit, I love you too...!” He’s never going to get tired of that confession. He could hear it a million times and it would still make his heart race. And it just makes him even harder. You want him. To be fucked by no one other than him. Only him. And he’s going to make sure he’ll be your last.

    One hand remains on the couch to keep himself steady, while the other is on your cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheekbone. Everything he’s said is true. Even if he’s pumping into you wildly, there’s still that part of him that wants to take care of you. It’s evident in his movements. 

    Mista takes this opportunity to deepen his thrusts. Despite his pace, your pussy still clings to him. He can feel it. You’re so moist under him, covering his cock in that same wetness he forced from you as he ate you out. Your cunt makes such lovely sounds as he pushes into you. And while he can feel the coolness from his apartment as he pulls out, he’s not going to deny you those long, fast thrusts he knows you deserve. After all, he wants to take care of you.

    “You were made for me,” you breathe, your pretty eyes staring back at him. “S-See how perfectly— a-ah! Shit…!” You pull him closer to you. “See how perfectly we f-fit?”

    “Yes, fuck, yes!” He’s babbling at this point now. He hardly has any control over himself. Your wetness, the sounds your pussy’s making, the slap of your ass against his thighs — it’s all so much. His head is spinning. 

    He’s given everything to you now. He quickens his pace as much as he can, driving his dick into you with such reckless abandon that your eyes roll to the back of your head. That sight alone is enough to make him tremble with excitement, though he tries to quell it as much as he can.

    “Fuck me, Guido! Fuck me!”

    He can’t take it.

    Shit.

    Oh, shit.

    No no no no—!

    It happens so fast. He’s pumping into you, and suddenly, warmth surrounds his cock. He feels it. You feel it, too.

    You blink.

    Mista blinks.

    “Did… did you—?” you start.

    “Yep,” he answers.

    Guido Mista did, in fact, just finish inside you without any warning.

    Well. That does it. He’s ending his friendship with you, effective immediately. Out of all the embarrassing things he could’ve done, did he have to fucking finish in such an embarrassing way!? There were so many things he wanted to do with you still, like make you cum two more times, or finally know how your lips feel around his dick, or—

    “Bahahaha! Are you serious?” 

    Your laughing snaps him out of his thoughts. Of course you’d laugh at his premature finish. 

    “What?”

    “This is just so… in character of you.”

    Hold on. Did you expect this to happen? “...What do you mean?”

    You don’t respond, only shooting him a look he recognizes as your ‘you know exactly what I mean, don’t play dumb’-look. Your cheeks are still flushed, but he can’t tell if it’s from laughing or from the heated moment before. 

    Likewise, his own face is beet-red. He’s not just embarrassed, he’s humiliated. He finally has you all to himself, knowing full well that you return his feelings, and this is how he starts it. Way to go, Mista. This must be a bad omen. ...Oh, Christ. What’s going to happen when he has sex with you for the fourth time?

    But just as he can so easily read your expressions, you can read his. And before Mista can embarrass himself much further, he feels your palms press against his cheeks. You’re squeezing his face, jutting his lips out in an awfully comical way. You stifle a laugh as you do so, to which Mista raises a brow.

    “What are you doing?” he asks.

    “Squeezing the sad out,” you respond.

    Ah, yes. Of course. How could he forget?

    “Don’t worry about it, dummy,” you continue. You bring his face to yours, placing a kiss on his puckered lips. “I love you, remember? That includes all of you. All your bad jokes, your stinky armpits—”

    “My armpits aren’t that stinky.”

    “Beside the point. This is one of those moments where I love you most. It’s where you’re the most you.”

    He thinks over this for a moment. And then, “You mean that?”

    “Obviously. Now help me clean up.”

    Where he’s the most him, huh? That… says a lot about his character. He won’t dwell on it, at least not for now. The fact is that he knows you’re telling the truth is enough for him. And the fact that, even after all these years, you’re still there for him even during his most demeaning moments? Well. That says a lot about you.

    This isn’t the first time he’ll have you to himself, he admits. Hell, this isn’t even the first time you’ve slept over. There will be many more moments like these, and many more opportunities for him to make it up to you.

    For now, he’ll start by helping you off the couch and into his arms. “I love you, too,” he whispers. To you. To himself. There will come a moment where he can tell the rest of the world that [Name] [Surname] is finally his. But for now, all that matters is that you’re here, with him, in his arms and in his heart.

    And you hug him back. If he didn’t know any better, it felt like the Earth was embracing him. Bringing him back to where he came, where he always belonged: with you.

[resilientdolan]

Drown (G.D) - part 3

Word-count: 1.6k

Summary: Thing’s getting intense between Grayson and Bianca; Grayson didn’t like the idea about Bianca and Declan together, and Bianca hated the fact that Grayson’s activating his protective best-friend mode.

———————————————————————

“So you’ve been talking to the goddamn Declan Hayes all this time?! Behind my back?,” Bianca nearly throws her phone once Hannah screamed at herthrough Facetime.

“Uh, our backs, Hannah,” Tiffany adds to correct her statement.

“Yeah, whatever. You’ve been keeping it as a secret from Tiff and I?!,” again, Hannah yells.

“I swear to God, Hannah, yell one more time and I’m ending this call,” Bianca rolls her eyes back as she switches the call to the speaker mode and place it on her bed. She lazily gets up and makes her way straight to her closet. Honestly, she doesn’t feel like going to the Dolan’s.

“But, Bi, how’s it going? You and Declan?,” Tiffany asks.

Bianca grabs her favorite knitted sweater as she yells, not trying to sound aggressive, but only to make sure the other two girls can hear her.

“Okay, I think? He wanted to get some coffee with me. The other day he asked me if we could get some burgers together. Around 3 days ago, he asked me if i needed a ride home,” She replies.

“Please tell me you said ‘yes’ to the first and the second offer, Reine. Or else I’m going to lose my shit,” Hannah yells.

“Well maybe if the one who asked me was Gray—“

“He got Isla. Get over it,” Hannah quickly cuts her word.

Ouch. That hurts.

Bianca remains silent for a while as she tries to process her words. As she picks up a pair of leggings to match her top, she lets out a soft sigh.

“But Hannah, I love him. So much. I’ve been crushing on him since I was 12–,”

“Yeah, but he chose your bitchy cousin instead of you. He’s blind. Ain’t worth it,” Another knife thrown to her chest.

“Bi, I think it’s worth a try for you to go out with Declan sometimes. I mean, if it doesn’t work, consider it as a childhood-friends-reunion?,” suggests Tiffany.

“Yup. Well, maybe— who knows— he’s much better than Grayson,” Hannah adds.

Doubt that. But maybe Tiff’s right, tho? Worth a try, maybe it’ll help her to get over the fact that the man of her dreams isn’t for her, since he’s snatched by her evil cousin.

“Right, right, I’ll text him,” Bianca mumbles as she puts the knitted sweater on, followed with the leggings right after. Once she’s done with the outfit, she grabs a hair tie from her drawer and ties her hair into a loose braid.

“Looking cute!,” Tiffany squeals as she watches her getting ready for the dinner. Bianca gives her a wink.

“Nah, kinda boring. Why don’t you put on a crop top, and shorts... like— show Grayson what he’s been missing, yanno?,” Hannah disagrees.

“You know, I would go there naked to show him what he’s been missing, but like you two said— he’s taken, maybe I should just give up,” Bianca quickly gives them another wink. They can’t help but laugh at her answer.

“Now, I need to go. For a dinner, and a little tutoring session. I’ll keep you two updated, bye!,” She waves her hand and immediately end the call.

“Bianca, you ready?,” She can hear her mom’s voice echoes.

Bianca quickly grabs her books and shoves them into her backpack before she runs out of her room.

“Yeah, coming!”

———————————————————————

What’s up, Bi?

Bianca’s in the middle of dinner with the Dolans, and her phone beeps. She takes a quick look at it to find out that Declan Hayes sent her a message.

While she’s on her way to the Dolan’s residence, she finally decided to give it a try and texted Declan. Just a simple “hi”. Okay, maybe with a smiley emoji.

She smiles at her phone screen, before she quickly types a message to reply his text, while the others are busy talking. Well, except one.

Grayson.

Grayson has been watching her smiling at her phone for few minutes. And he’s dying to know the reason why she’s smiling at her phone screen. He probably knows, but clearly he doesn’t like it.

Not much, just having dinner. You?

Sent.

As soon as she replies to Declan’s text, she puts her phone down once again. She shifts her gaze from the phone, to everyone in the room to make sure no one’s paying attention to her texting during dinner. And that’s when she finally meets Grayson’s beautiful hazel eyes.

Hold up, is that anger in his eyes—

“What?,” Bianca mouths the word, with her eyes remains locked with his. He remains silent, shaking his head. He sets his fork down on the plate before he opens his mouth.

“I’m so full. I think I’m done. I need to study for tomorrow’s test,” He speaks up.

“Alright, dear. Ethan and Bianca too?,” Lisa responds.

“Yeah, Ethan too. And Bianca— if she’s done with the dinner. She hasn’t touched her food,” Grayson points at her plate, which is still filled with the half-eaten mashed potatoes, along with the roasted chicken breast.

“I’m not really hungry, just... kinda stressed about the test. I think I better study,” Bianca sets her fork down on her plate before she gets up. “But thanks for the dinner, Auntie Lisa,” She adds.

Yes, she calls her ‘Auntie Lisa’ because she’s just like her mother’s sister.

Lisa gives her a smile and a slight nod. Bianca gives her a smile back as she grabs her backpack, following Grayson, who’s already heading upstairs to his room.

As she turns to the living room, she finds Ethan sitting on the couch, busy with his phone. A light chuckle escapes her as she approach him, close enough to ruffle his hair.

“You coming? We’re about to start the studying session,” she asks, inviting him to join her and Grayson. “Besides, you’re supposed to be there to watch me, according to your brother’s girlfriend,” Bianca teases him.

“Fuck Isla,” He laughs, shaking his head as he get up from his seat.

“I thought you two get along well?,” She arches her brow as they head upstairs.

“I’m just trying to be nice, like I don’t wanna be rude. I don’t know what’s going inside Grayson’s head that he chose to ask her to be his girlfriend,” Ethan answers.

“She looks like Barbie doll,” she guesses.

“She’s evil,”

Bianca can’t help but bursts into endless laughter. Well... he’s kinda right, though.

“Don’t tell Grayson I said that,” Ethan shoots her a playful glare as he steps into Grayson’s room. She just shakes her head, finding his antics entertaining as she follows him.

———————————————————————

“So... the cytoplasm is actually surrounded and protected by the cell membrane, right?,” Ethan’s voice echoes.

Bianca gives him a quick nod before she shifts her gaze back to the phone in her hand.

Another text from Declan.

Are you free tomorrow?

Wait, is he going to ask you out once again?

She gently bites her bottom lip as she types the message.

I think. Why?

“Wait, so cytoplasm is part of the protoplasm?,” This time, Grayson asks.

But Bianca’s eyes remain glued onto the phone screen, too busy re-reading the whole conversation with Declan. Suddenly, she gets excited about the thought of going out with him. A smile comes across her lips as she daydreams about the possible thing to happen with her and Declan.

“Bi,”

No answer.

“Bianca,”

Damn, what if Declan’s really into her?

“Jesus Christ, Bianca, I need your help for the Biology test tomorrow,” Grayson groans. She can sense frustration in his tone.

Bianca quickly puts her phone down, and shifts her focus back to the topic discussed. “I’m sorry, can you please repeat the question once again?,” she begs.

“The answer is, yes, bro,” Ethan beats her in answering the question, after he spent nearly five minutes looking for the answer in his book.

“Thanks,” Grayson replies, with his eyes still locked on Bianca’s. “Are you kinda busy, Bi?,” He asks. His gaze moves to the phone that she puts on top of her book.

“It’s nothing important,” She sighs.

“You’re smiling the whole time like a complete idiot, is it Declan?,” He licks his upper lip. Ethan remains silent, but he’s clearly distracted by Grayson’s question.

“Why do you care?,” Bianca scoffs, feeling uncomfortable with him investigating her.

“Answer me, is it Declan?,” He repeats his question once again.

“I thought we’re going to study for the Biology test,” Ethan mumbles.

“Yes, it’s Declan. Why?,” She’s getting pissed with Grayson being nosy that she ignores Ethan.

“You know he ain’t shit, Bianca,” She can feel Grayson’s tone is rising.

“Why do you care?,” She quickly closes her book, not giving a damn anymore about the test since her childhood’s crush is testing her.

“He’s a douche! You deserve someone better! What the fuck is wrong with you?!,” Grayson throws his book onto his bed.

“Oh, and who do you think you are? You think you have the right to control me?!,” Bianca glare sat him.

“I’m your bestfriend!”

“Did I hold you back from dating Isla though I know she’s annoying?!,” She’s completely angry that she yells.

Grayson keeps his mouth shut. He knows that what she said was right. She’s his bestfriend, but she has never tried to control him, unlike what he’s doing now.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” He mumbles.

“I appreciate that, but I’m not a baby. I can make my own decision,” Bianca defends herself.

What the hell, Grayson? Who do you think you are?

The heated argument really got her mood dropped. Bianca takes a quick glance at the clock on his wall. 10 pm.

“Now if you excuse me, I need to go back home and get some rest,” She grabs her book, along with her phone before she gets up. “Goodnight,” she add.

Grayson looks away. It seems like he’s still mad. So she gives Ethan a small smile and heads out of his room.

What is going on inside his head? He thinks he can control her?

No, Grayson.

It’s time for Bianca Reine to move on. He’s nothing but her childhood crush.

[xsixxx]

Bad Influence - Chapter 10

Word Count - 5.5K

Authors Note - It's what ya'll have been waiting 10 chapters for, fingers crossed it doesn't disappoint 😂

Warnings - Filthy dirty sleazy smutty smut, language as always, angst, Nikki not giving a fuck about anyone but Nikki

Tags - Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @versnatasha @zoenicoles @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby @valentines-in-london @xrosegoldwolfx @fupatroopaa @lilypetite88 @this-blog-must-be-the-place @ashleecrue @lauravic @dark-princess99 @unknownoblivion @mgkobsessed @antheasnow

(Nikki attitude this whole goddamn chapter)

"Beth, you can't hide in your bed any longer, get up." Came Sophias stern voice as she tore the covers off of me. I groaned out loud, grabbing ahold of them, pulling them back over me, tucking it right under my chin for extra comfort.

"Leave me alone Soph, I'm sick." I mumbled pathetically.

"Girl, you can pull that shit with Paul to get outta work but I'm not buying it. You're fine, you're just feeling sorry for yourself & you need to get over it." Sophia snapped, always one for the gentle approach. She sighed as she sat down on the edge of my bed. "You can't avoid Nikki forever."

"Why would I be avoiding Nikki, I haven't done anything wrong?" I muttered, fidgiting a little & purposely avoiding eye contact.

"No, exactly, you haven't, so why are you pulling a sicky?!"

"I'm not!" I replied, a little sharper this time. "Soph look, I just don't feel well, ok? Most friends would offer to bring me soup or something, not give me the goddamn third degree."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say." Sophia resigned, putting her hands up in defeat as she rose from my bed. "To be fair to you, you must be ill because you look like shit." She laughed as I threw a pillow that narrowly missed her face. "But don't pretend like you're not avoiding Nikki, that boy has left 3 voicemails in the last week asking if you're ok. At least phone him back & let him know that the 'fever' hasn't taken you just yet." She winked as she used air quotes to emphasise her shit eating sarcasm.

"Whatever," I groaned, pulling the covers over my head, "I'll do it after my nap now can you please go get ready for work, you're gonna be late & you're getting on my nerves."

I heard Sophia scoff as she left the room, closing the door behind her as she went.

Ok, maybe she was right, maybe I had been avoiding Nikki. But not on purpose, I was actually sick. Sort of. Mentally drained counted as sick in my book.

I yanked the covers back from over my head as I let out an over dramatic & exasperated sigh. It'd been a week since I'd practically ran from the Mötley house like a scared, overwhelmed teen who'd realised that maybe they weren't cut out for hanging around with the popular kids.

I don't really know what happened & that's probably the thing that scares me most.

One minute I'm in Nikki's room, listening to his music &, I think, kissing him?

Then I was back with Tommy, snorting more lines & drinking so much I'd be surprised if there's any booze left anywhere on the Sunset Strip, because I'm pretty sure I drank it all.

Next thing I knew, there was a guy getting a little too handsy, feeling me up & trying to guide me into the bathroom with him. And what scares me most is knowing that I was definitely too fucked up to have stood my ground if push had come to shove. If Nikki hadn't have overheard & come out his room when he did, that guy could've easily snuck me away from the party & no-one would've been any the wiser.

Fuck.

I'm supposed to be the sensible one.

How had I let myself get so wrapped up in this lifestyle that is, in reality, a million miles away from my own?

I'm not a rockstar. I'm not a groupie. I'm not a party girl.

I'm a psychology student with deadlines to meet, debt to pay.

I didn't want a bad boy who'd drop me as soon as he's had his fill, I wanted a steady boyfriend that'd take me on dates, had a stable job & that my father wouldn't despise.

I had always had a plan. I was going to get my degree, have a career & a marriage & a family, maybe a dog, & be happy.

So what was I doing down this path to depravity?

I rolled over & buried my face in my pillow as I let out a exasperated groan into the soft void.

I just didn't belong in Mötley Crüe's world.

*Later*

A sudden, sharp rasp on my bedroom door jolted me awake.

"Beth, stop pretending you're sick, you got a visitor." Soph yelled through the wood before throwing the door open & shoving a slightly pissed off looking Nikki into my room.

"Sorry, late for work, gotta run!" Sophia voice rang smugly in a sing-song voice as she rushed away from my room & down the hall. I listened to the patter of her heels along the flooring, then the sound of her unlock the front door & before slamming it with purpose to announce her departure. I scowled at the space she had stood in just seconds before, mentally cursing her out.

I glanced at Nikki who had lifted a judgemental brow, eyeing up the sight of me in my pyjamas, unbrushed hair & no make up, napping at 4pm.

"Oh you because you've never woke up in worse states." I shot at him defensively, scrambling to sit up, pulling my knees into my chest under the covers. "What do you want Sixx?" I mumbled awkwardly, scowling at the wall whilst I refused to make eye contact.

"Beth, I've left you messages. What, you couldn't be arsed to pick up the phone & let me know you're ok?!" He asked sharply, his expression clearly annoyed. "I was wo-" he checked himself, cutting off the statement, but it was too late.

I smirked a little. "Nikki Sixx, were you worried about me?"

"No, I wasn't worried, I just-"

"Turns out the bad boy has a soft side." I teased.

Nikki's face grew red as he brow furrowed in frustration & embarrassment. "Oh yanno what, just fuck it, I shouldn't have bothered.." he murmured to himself, turning on his heels & walking back out of the bedroom door.

"No wait Nikki, c'mon I'm sorry, I was only joking, I'm sorry!" I called after him, causing him to stop & cautiously turn back around. "Please just come back in here." I pouted at him. Nikki's face softened & he came & stood at the foot of my bed, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the ornate bed frame.

"I'm sorry if I freaked you out the other night." I heard him mumbled quietly, almost as if he was hoping I wouldn't quite catch it.

"You didn't freak me out, it was that guy.." I trailed off, letting my eyes follow Nikki's hands that was still dancing along the footboard. "Thank you, for stepping in, god knows what could've happened if you didn't." I said quietly, finally lifting my eyes to his just in time to catch his dart across in my direction. Our eyes met & Nikki acknowledged my thanks with a little awkward nod.

"You're welcome." He replied with a little cough, trying to hide his discomfort at the whole situation. “So, um, why have you been avoiding me? Yanno, if its not because I scared you?” He stumbled.

I hung my head slightly, unsure of how much truth to share. I couldn’t tell him it was because being a groupie didn’t exactly fit into my life plan. Christ, I hadn’t even slept with the guy & I’m already getting ready to run away because he’s not marriage material. I let out a soft, unamused chuckle at my own ridiculous reasonings. “Nikki, I just..” I decided to share a little bit of truth. “I just don’t fit in.” I blurted out.

Nikki let out a short, almost relieved laugh. “What?” He asked, bemused now.

I shook my head, hearing how must’ve sounded. “I mean, I just don’t fit into your world. I got swept up in having fun with you guys, but I’m just not that girl. I don’t know, I guess I got carried away with it all.”

Nikki looked at me intently, pondering what I'd said before carefully responding. “But, you had fun right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, of course I did. But that’s not the point.”

“Of course that’s the point!” Nikki cut in quickly. “Beth, you were the one that told me you lived wrapped up in goddamn bubble wrap, not able to do what you wanted or enjoy yourself.”

“Yeah, but only because Daddy wanted to protect us!” I said defensively.

“And now you’re a grown ass adult Lizzy.” Nikki’s expression softened a little & he hesitantly reached for my hand. “Look, I know your dad wanted to look after you and all that, but you can’t let what happened to your mom stop you from living your own life.”

“I’m not, I just..” I let the sentence trail off. “The other night just made me realise how reckless I’m being. This isn’t who I am. The drugs, the partying, ever since I met you guys I’ve just been someone that I’m not & just think need to distance myself, ok?”

Nikki shrugged, withdrawing his hand from mine a little sharply. “I get that sometimes were a little much & we can take things a bit too far, but don’t put your twisted daddy guilt on me & my band. You chose to come to our parties, no-one forced coke up your nose or pushed you into bed with Vince, you did all that shit because you wanted to & because you enjoyed it. Look, I’m not gonna beg you to stick around if that’s what you’re waiting for because that just isn’t me. If you wanna stay away, that's cool, we'll leave you be. But for what my opinion is worth, which probably ain’t shit, I think you’re being hard on yourself. You’re not a bad person for enjoying the darker side of life.” Nikki’s voice was blunt & hard, but I could hear the sincerity in it too. “Beth, you’re punishing yourself for having fun.” He finished.

Fuck, he was right.

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Nikki’s words lingering in the air as I absorbed what he’d said, trying to figure out where my head was at. I knew that what he was saying was true, but that didn't give me an excuse to go out & do whatever I pleased. I had to take responsibility for my life, be sensible, make the right choices.

Right?

Eventually Nikki rose from the bed, rocking on his heels as he tried to find words to try & clear the awkward atmosphere.

“Ok, well I think maybe that’s my queue to go.” He announced, leaning in to me & giving me a light peck on the forehead. “I hope you figure all of this shit out Beth. Don’t let your dads fears stop you from enjoying your own life. Do what you gotta do, but don’t forget to do what you wanna do sometimes.” He said as he walked towards the the open door. He paused in the doorway, turning his head slightly to look at me & gave me that infamous smirk one last time. My stomach flipped at the sight. “I’ll miss ya, Lizzy." He winked before walking away, down the hallway & out of sight. I let out a breathe I hadn’t realised I'd been holding in as I heard the door open & shut, the click of the latch catching sending a feeling of regret run cold though my body.

Fuck.

I threw the bed covers off of me & ran down the hallway, my bare feet slapping loudly on the laminate flooring. I reached the front door & took a deep breathe, my mind made up as I wrenched open the door & flew down the first set of stairs, not putting another thought into what I was about to do. I ran down the second flight, almost crashing into Nikki on the landing between staircases. I didn’t give him chance to react as he spun round, about to curse out whoever had nearly sent him flying. I grabbed a hold of his face, kissing him roughly & deeply. Nikki’s body went from rigid & angry to relaxed & smug in an instant, his hands snaking around my waist, pulling me in closer as I could feel his smirk beneath my lips. He finally broke the kiss, leaning away from me fractionally to give me a bemused, sly look. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I wanna do.” I quoted him as he chuckled darkly.

“Good girl.” He mumbled against my lips, those two words, mixed with the taste of his kiss making me weak. I took his hand & lead him back up the stairs, feeling his eyes trailing along every inch of my body with every step I took.

We reached the front door & I went to reach for the handle, but Nikki grabbed my wrist, spinning me back around & pushing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my hands above my head with one hand as his other trailed along my lips, down my neck and lightly across my chest. His eyes didn’t leave mine the whole time, his hungry gaze enough to undo me right there & then. He pressed his lips roughly against mine as his fingers carried on their journey down my stomach & along the waistband of the little pyjama shorts I was wearing. He let them dance teasingly along my exposed skin before he slid his hand under the fabric, stroking me on the outside of my panties.

I tried to wriggle my hands free to grab his hand, conscious of the fact that anyone could walk past us, but Nikki only tightened his grip in response.

I pulled away from his kiss, trying to ignore how good his fingers were making me feel. “Nikki, I have neighbours!” I hissed. “What if someone walks past us?”

Nikki smirked once again. “That’s the point Angel. Best keep quiet.” He winked as his fingers expertly moved my panties to the side before sliding inside me, making me gasp with pleasure.

“Nikki, c’mon, I mean it!” I tried to protest as his fingers began to rhythmically pump against my wetness, his thumb finding its way to my clit & rubbing in small circles, making me moan out loud against my better judgement.

“Nikki..” I trailed off, forgetting what I was complaining about as he picked up speed, letting my eyes close. I stopped caring. I couldn’t focus on being mad, I could only focus on him. I rocked my hips against his hand, our rhythms syncing perfectly causing new waves of pleasure that I couldn’t hide. I desperately tried to stifle my moans, but Nikki wouldn’t let me. His fingers worked faster & harder, driving me closer & closer to the edge.

I opened my eyes to see his fixed on me, his lustful gaze soaking up the sight of me coming undone in front of him like he’d wanted for so long.

Nikki smiled darkly & leaned in to me, letting his lips brush my ear lobe as he whispered “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you give me that look.”

“What look?” I managed to gasp between my soft moans.

“The look you give when your wet, begging for my touch.” He chuckled. “Now cum for me, Angel. Right here, right now.”

His commanding words almost pushed me over the edge & I closed my eyes once again, letting my head tilt back as I got ready to indulge in my release.

But my eyes snapped open at the sound of the door to the building opening 2 floors below. I heard footsteps begin to ascend the stairs & I wriggled against Nikki’s grip once again, but his smirk only grew wider. “Nuh-uh Princess, not until you cum.”

“Nikki, this isn’t funny!” I shot at him quickly, but his fingers didn’t stop. His thumb carried on trailing delectable circles on my clit as his fingers moved quicker inside me, pushing deeper. I listened to the footsteps grow closer as my orgasm did the same, until I couldn’t stop it. Nikki’s lips crashed against mine to silence the moans of ecstasy that wanted to escape my mouth as I came around Nikki fingers, the urgency & danger only adding to the intensity.

Nikki swiftly removed his hand from my panties, licking his fingers & winking at me as I straightened up just in time for Mrs Salvador, our upstairs neighbour, to appear in view as she made her way up the staircase with grocery bags in either hand, smiling when she spotted me.

“Good afternoon, dear!” She beamed as I smiled politely.

“Good afternoon Mrs Salvador.” I managed, still flustered.

“And who do we have here?” She nodded in Nikki’s direction.

“I’m Nikki!” He responded all chipper & pleased with himself.

“Well nice to meet you Nikki, I’d shake your hand but I best get these bags upstairs.” Mrs Salvador smiled as she carried on her way.

Nikki shot me a sly look, smirking a usual. “Probably for the best.” He chuckled back to her, shrugging as a took a swipe at him when Mrs Salvador’s back was turned.

He grabbed my waist & pulled me towards him as he reached for the door at the same time. “Now, I’m not done with you.” He growled, nipping at my neck before opening the door & pulling me through.

Now safely on the other side of the door, I felt more confident as I kissed Nikki roughly, trailing kisses along his jawline & down his neck, softly biting as I went.

“My turn.” I mumbled against his skin, before dropping to my knees without hesitation.

I unlaced his tight leather trousers, lifting my eyes up to meet Nikki’s, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth as I watched him appreciate the sight of me on my knees in front of him. I flashed him a smirk of my own & placed light kisses along the waistband of his trousers before reaching into them & pulling out his swollen member.

*Nikki’s POV*

Beth lifted her eyes to mine once again as she slowly licked the tip, teasing me, waiting to see my reaction. I let out a low groan watching her smirk & circle her tongue around the head of my cock before taking it into her mouth.

“Fuck” I hissed through my teeth a I felt Beths hot, wet lips wrap around my dick & watched her delicate hands wrap around the base, working it slowly to begin with. I felt myself grow harder in her mouth, my eyes fixated on the sight of her with my cock between her perfect, plump lips.

She picked up speed, running her tongue up & down the length of me, applying just enough pressure to make me curse again. I threw back my head & let a low moan escape me. I grabbed a fistful of Beth’s hair, bucking my hips against her as she pumped faster, using her hands to work what her mouth couldn’t reach.

“Christ, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking your pretty little mouth.” I grinned between my moans of desire. Beth looked back up at me, eyes so innocent I could’ve cum just from the look she gave me. She groaned around my cock, sucking me deeper into her mouth, her one hand finding its way to me balls, fondling them & causing me to groan louder as the pleasure increased.

I thrust my hips against her, helping her take all of me into her throat. I felt the sensation overwhelm me, pushing me closer to cumming, but I wasn’t gonna cum like this.

I put my fingers gently under Beths chin, lifting her face to look at me, her lips still wrapped around my dick. I groaned at the sight once more, fighting the urge to let her just carry on until I came in that perfect mouth.

Instead, I took her hand & helped her to her feet, running my hands through her blonde hair & kissing her before leading her towards her own room. I shut the door behind us & pulled off my tshirt before pushing Beth on to the bed. I pulled off her top, revealing her lack of bra & climbed on top of her, placing kisses lazily across he chest until my lips brushed against her nipple. I nipped it gently, causing a sharp inhale of breath from Beth, before taking it into my mouth & sucking as I used my thumb & finger to caress the other one. Beth let out a delicious whimper & I continued my trail of nipping & sucking down her stomach to the waistband of her shorts.

I slowly pulled them off along with her panties, revealing Beth’s perfect little pink pussy, glistening with her wetness. I bit my lip at the sight, desperate to taste her.

I placed kisses along Beths thighs, sucking lightly as I made my way inwards until my lips brushed against the ones between her legs. I felt her abs tense & heard her draw in a sharp breathe as her hand came down & rested on the back of my head, her fingers getting lost in my hair. I continued kissing around her pussy, making Beth squirm until she couldn’t take it anymore. I let my tongue drift towards her clit, lightly brushing over it before applying a little more pressure & swirling my tongue against her. Fuck, she tasted like heaven.

“Fuck, Nikki!” Beth called out, whimpering & moaning as I smirked against her clit. I had waited too damn long to hear her call out my name, it sounded so fucking sweet on her angel lips.

I carried on circling my tongue as I eased my finger inside her, gently thrusting it in & out until I heard her breath quicken. I let it get faster & faster, listening to her orgasm build up until her fingers started to tighten in my hair & then I simply stopped.

“Sixx, what the fuck!” Beth panted, lifting her head up to look at me. I gave her my best smug smile as I pulled off my leather pants & climbed back on top of her. I let the head of my cock rub against her clit, causing an involuntary moan to escape her mouth into mine as I kissed her.

“You can cum when I do, Princess” I smiled wickedly, climbing off of her to find a condom. I always kept one handy in my trouser pocket. I ripped open the packet & rolled it on, moving back over to Beth & flipping her over, so she was on all fours, knees on the edge of the bed, ass in the air & that cute little pussy on full display for me. I let my cock glide up & down the length of her, spreading her wetness around as she whimpered for me.

“Tell me what you want, Angel.” I teased.

“You.” I heard her whimper as her ass wiggled in the air as she tried to back herself up onto my throbbing cock.

“Uh-uh Princess. Tell me what you want.” I demanded, giving her wet pussy a sharp little tap with my hand, causing a gasp, followed by a moan to emanate from Beth.

“I want you to fuck me, Nikki!” She choked out between moans as my fingers brushed lazily against her clit.

“Ask nicely, Angel.” I warned.

“Please Nikki, please fuck me!” Beth cried out desperately “Fuck, I want you inside me.”

I teased her entrance with the tip of my cock, prolonging her desperation for just a second longer as I appreciated what it was like to finally have her at my mercy before I eased myself inside of her. Her warmth was enticing & her wetness made it easy to push my whole length deep inside her. Beths moans were fucking music to my ears as she called out my name, signalling me to pick up the pace.

I grabbed a hold of her hips, digging my fingers into her delicate skin, instantly colouring her pale skin a nice shade of purple underneath my fingertips. I grinned at the sight; a reminder for her later.

I started thrusting, finding my rhythm as our moans synced along with our hips. I started out slow, thrusting deep as Beth cried out.

“Fuck Sixx, you’re so big!” She moaned as she inevitably pulled away from me. I slapped her ass & pulled her back to me, burying my dick back inside her. I grabbed her hair as I picked up the pace, thrusting harder & faster as Beth got more comfortable, pushing her ass back against me, matching my rhythm.

I brought down a sharp slap on her ass once again as she called out my name. “I’m gonna cum Nikki!” She yelled out.

I chuckled harshly. “I told you, you cum when I do, doll.”

I slowly pulled back, almost all the way, before pushing my cock back in, hard, making her take all of me. Beth let out yell of pleasure & pain, pulling away from me once again, causing me to pull out.

I released my fingers from her hair & I lay down on the bed, motioning for Beth to get on top. She didn’t need telling twice.

She eagerly straddled me, placing her knees either side of my hips before she reached for hungrily for my cock, positioning it beneath her, sliding herself down on to me with a deliciously slow pace that nearly made me cum.

“Fuck Beth!” I called out, grabbing her hair & pulling her lips to me, tasting her sweet kiss as she slowly rode my cock.

Beth sat back up, placing her hands on my chest to steady herself as she thrust up & down on my dick. I reached my hand up past her bouncing tits to her pretty neck, wrapping my fingers around it & squeezing, gently at first, trying to gage her reaction. Beth drew her bottom lip between her teeth & gave me a pleading look that told me to carry on, so I tightened my grip, causing her pace to quicken. I groaned at the sight of her perfect, wet pussy sliding up & down my cock, bringing me closer to my release.

Keeping my grip on her throat, I rolled over so Beth was beneath me, softening my grip momentarily for her to take a sudden gasp of air. I grinned at her as she let a moan escape before my grip tightened once again.

“I’ve wanted you beneath me for so fucking long, Angel. Now, you have my permission to cum.” I smirked as I began thrusting hard & fast, bouncing my hips against hers as Beth wrapped her legs around my waist & dragged her nails down my back. I let out a low growl at the pain, squeezing tighter on her neck, leaving more purple bruises as evidence that she was mine.

I watched as her beautiful, innocent face got twisted up with sin & I let go of her just in time to hear the sound of her orgasm come crashing out of her glossy, angelic lips. Her forehead was glistening with a light film of sweat as her eyebrows furrowed & her lips parted ever so slightly. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine as I felt her cum around my cock.

I smirked as I watched her, knowing I’d caused that sinful look in her eyes, just like I’d always wanted.

I felt my own release build up as I watched Beth squirm & writhe from her own, not breaking pace or easing for a second, dragging out her orgasm.

“Tell me who you belong to.” I demanded, edging closer, groaning as the sight of Beth cumming beneath me.

“You. I-I belong to you.” She choked out between gasps & moans. “Cum for me Nikki, please.” She begged desperately.

Beths words tipped me over the edge & I buried my face in her neck as came, slowing down my pace before collapsing in a pile on the bed next to her.

“Fuck.” I whispered, letting out a low, sultry laugh.

*Beths POV*

“Yep.” I agreed, giggling. Fuck was the only word that seemed appropriate right now. My whole body felt like it was vibrating, still throbbing from my orgasm. I wriggled up next to Nikki, resting my head on his shoulder, resigning myself to the knowledge that my legs were basically useless at this point & I’d just have to call in sick again for my evening shift.

Nikki whole body stiffened at my touch before relaxing fractionally, long enough to wrap his arm around my waist, but I could sense his discomfort.

“You.. ok, Sixx?” I asked, dragging the question out a little as I propped myself up to look at him.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He shifted, his eyes refusing to meet mine.

I felt a knot form in my stomach as the awkwardness grew in the air. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?” I joked, half-serious.

“No, it not that doll. That was, uh, well, that was fucking phenomenal.” He laughed nervously, running his hands through his hair.

“So.. What is it?” I questioned, feeling suddenly self-conscious as I pulled the bed cover over me to hide my body.

His eyes drifted down to his arm around my waist. “I’m just, um, I’m don’t really do the whole cuddling thing after, yanno?”

I scoffed at him, shaking my head. “Christ Nikki.”

“I’m sorry!” He said, immediately jumping to his own defensive. “You know I’m not that kinda guy!”

“Nik, I put my goddamn head on your shoulder, I wasn’t asking you to commit!”

“Look, the whole thing just makes me, I don’t know, uncomfortable I guess!” He blurted out sheepishly.

I let out a short, unamused laugh. “And kicking someone out of my bed before they’ve had chance to catch their breath makes me uncomfortable, so looks like we’re both fucked here.” I snapped.

“Lizzy, c’mon, you knew what this was, you’ve always known!” Nikki looked exasperated. “You’ve seen it happen with plenty of other girls, nothing has changed.” He said sharply, climbing out of my bed & pulling on his pants.

They shouldn’t have, but his words stung.

Fuck.

“Christ Sixx. I didn’t think I was special, but I thought after everything that maybe you cared about me a little more than all your other groupies.” I spat, tears involuntarily springing to my eyes. I furiously tried to blink them away.

“I - I care about you Beth, but no. This was what it was, you should’ve known.” He shook his head, still refusing to catch my eye as he gathered up his clothes & got dressed.

I shook my head, letting an ironic laugh escape me. “Who’d have thought Vince would’ve treated me better than you. And to think I fucking hurt him for this.” I gestured towards Nikki & the bed, shaking my head pitifully. “Thanks a lot Nikki.”

His head spun to face me, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Don’t fucking blame me for what happened with you two. No-one forced you to go off with me! You made that decision on your own Princess.”

“I went off with you because I thought I was going off with more than just one mediocre fuck!” I yelled bitterly. “What happened to wanting to be the only one that has me? What happened to ‘tell me who you belong to’ just 10 fucking minutes ago?!”

“Shit Lizzy, I say shit when I’m fucking horny. What did you expect? I was just gonna settle down with you because I’ve been chasing you? That’s the whole goddamn point, its the thrill of the chase &, well..”

Tears pricked in my eyes once again & I didn’t bother to hide them this time.

“Just get out Sixx.” I ordered, bluntly.

“Princess, look, I like you, I do, but I don’t want anything more than this, I figured you knew that. I’m sorry if I confused you, I like what we had gong before, can we just go back to that?” Nikki asked softly, reaching for my hand.

“Get out of here Nikki, now!” I yelled, hot, humilIted years spilling down my cheeks as I climbed out of bed & strode towards Nikki, pushing him out of the door & slamming it shut behind him. I sunk to the floor, my bare back against the cold wood of the door as I listened to Nikki sigh heavily on the other side, before walking down the hallway, opening the front door & closing it behind him.

I listened as the latch caught once again. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna chase him this time.

[kiiboumacore]

And here it is! The entry that finishes out @kiiboumaexchange -- a backup fic for @eterna09. Apologies for the wait, I hope it was worth it!

The prompt I was given was:

Kiibo and Ouma fighting over something silly but make up afterwards. Lots of fluff please

So maybe I flubbed the ‘silly’ part a little bit, but I made it super lighthearted and fluffy to compensate. Please enjoy! It's on A03 now, you can find it here. The notes have some more thoughts if you'd like to read.

Title: keeping you close Words: 5477 Pairing: Kiibouma

“It’s getting late.”

When Kiibo says this, Kokichi’s brain hangs up. He clicks his lips and slowly snakes his hand up the robot’s arm. Kiibo clears his throat, raises the appendage along the table, and speaks a little more firmly.

“...Ouma-kun. It is long since time that you went to bed. I will not accept anything less.”

Kokichi doesn’t let go of his arm, but he does feel the need to say something cheeky back. It’s clear that he’s fighting a losing battle, but…

“Don’t wanna. Not tired. Unlike some loser robot, humans can run on willpower alone, did you know?”

Kiibo scoffs. He’s positive, by now, that the “scathing” things Kokichi says can’t make a dent in his fortified self-confidence, but it’s a little hard to resist calling him out all the same. He rises from the table without further debate, returning the hold on Kokichi’s wrist just to give it a light tug.

“You know well by now that this ‘willpower’ of mine lasts far longer than your own. I need rest but once a week--” He stops briefly, only to add with a smirk, “Unlike you. Now, then, that is enough. Follow me.”

Kokichi stares at their joined arms, only leaning his upper half across the table as Kiibo moved. Flat out against it, there really is only one thing he can do. He sweeps his free arm across the top of it, freely scattering an inhumane number of chess pieces on the ground below. Kiibo’s sure his horror has more to do with the racket it creates rather than the mess, but…

“Ugh--Ouma-kun!!”

The culprit smirks as a child would.

“What? Can’t sleep now, gotta clean that up. It’d be sad to leave a mess, right?”

Kiibo finds himself staring exasperatedly at the scattered pieces. Deeply contemplating Kokichi’s words, he reaches a stark conclusion: don’t let him win. Though he itches with the urge to clean the evidence of the leader’s fit, that behavior only grants him more of the same. Always.

So, tearing his gaze away from the mess, he yanks on Kokichi’s arm.

“No! I’m not playing this game, Ouma-kun!” And, anyway, he cannot continue to get what he wants just by being a brat- “That’s enough, we’re going!”

“Oww-- geez!! Fine! Come on, let go of me!” Failure number one: he attempts to hold fast against Kiibo’s tugging. With an aggrieved, defeated groan, he peels himself from the table. “You’re just the worst, Kiiboy…” It’s mumbled so that the robot can hardly make it out. “If you’re salty ‘cos all you do is lose, you could just say that.”

He can’t help but shove the board off the table, too, but mostly for “completionism’s sake”.

The reason that the Supreme Leader had a persistent disdain for such a natural human function like sleeping still remains a mystery to Kiibo, but perhaps it wasn’t anything a little tough love couldn’t correct. That hollow “thunk” of the cardboard hitting the ground behind him has him rolling his eyes again.

Sometimes, it’s a little hard to separate Kokichi’s purposeful mischief from his simple compulsions… However, to Kiibo’s pleasant surprise, the other boy falls cleanly into step with him afterwards. He slides his hand down Kokichi’s arm to take his hand properly; his grip is decidedly loose.

“Kiiboy.”

Just don’t answer him.

“....Hey, Kiiboy!”

If you do, you’ll just rile him up again.

“Wow, you jerk. I gotta super important question, yanno.” Kokichi glances to the side as he says it. His tone is dismissive at worst.

Kiibo doesn’t particularly react. He carries on past the rows of chairs and tables before finally forming a response, the answer to what Kokichi hadn’t yet asked. “I’m taking you to your room. If I am not there to ensure you get a full eight hours of sleep, you will surely escape in the night. Of this, I am certain.”

That explanation is kind of not great. Kokichi’s tongue pokes slightly through his lips. While his concerns are with the fact that his room is off-limits, what he says is something entirely different, characteristic smirk tracing onto his face.

“...For real? Sounds like somebody just wants to watch me sleep--”

“That is not true!” Kiibo, with a delicately reddening face, cuts him cleanly off before he even finishes speaking, and Kokichi snickers wildly. “I-- am looking out for your health, as all good partners should!”

...What book did he read that in?, Kokichi finds himself pondering, but raises another point rolled up in his jubilee. “..I mean, sure, fine. But I gotta warn you--yours truly has a total sleepwalking problem. If you get attacked blindly in the night: not my fault. I’m a pacifist, yeah?”

Kiibo blanches, his surprised eyes regarding Kokichi with suddenly more care than usual. Then, with that, a realization, as sheer distaste on his features. “...That cannot be true. This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

Kokichi grins near immediately.

“Just like I thought! Nothing gets past you, huh?” It’s plainly said in mocking.

Regardless, Kiibo’s noise of affirmation holds all of the confidence in the world.

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

The dorm building in the dwindling hours is kept somewhere between “cold as balls” and “Alaskan meat locker”. Quite a few, if not all, of the other students had already gotten to bed; the lobby is silent and unmoving.

Mostly, though, it’s just dark.

Even in this light, Kiibo can tell Kokichi is hesitant to open the door.

Kokichi steps in first, tossing his keys into a clearly haphazard but somehow still very specific direction in the dark. Kiibo follows the sound it makes with a glance and a bit of a frown. It hasn’t gotten lost yet, but surely it might someday, right?

The world of the Supreme Leader sure is one not of this planet. Shrugging, he trails his hand along the wall for the lightswitch.

Kokichi’s own hand immediately follows, slamming against the plastic and blocking Kiibo from even touching it. The robot blinks in surprise.

“Nooope! Light stays off.”

“...Why?” Still, mostly out of respect, Kiibo drops his hand.

“Gotta. It’s late. Otherwise, I’ll turn into a pumpkin.”

Okay. Kiibo sighs. It’s another one of his boyfriend’s quirks for that seemingly endless list. The robot leaves the doorway without further argument. The dorms have roughly the same layout from person to person, so if he’s careful, making his way to Kokichi’s bed should not be a problem.

But as soon as he hears the door shut behind him, a pair of arms close around his waist.

Kokichi’s lithe form presses against his back and Kiibo settles naturally against it, albeit surprised as he may be. The Supreme Leader’s affection is only ever a private affair, meaning it’s always--Kiibo hesitantly places his hands over Kokichi’s--kind of nice.

“...I lied.” He says listlessly, the smile audible in his voice. His forehead is pressed comfortably against Kiibo’s shoulder blade. “I’m suuuper tired. Sing me to sleep, Kiibaby…”

“I will not.” Kiibo’s eyes are fixed to Kokichi’s arms. A smile of his own had crept onto his features. “...However, I do have a sampling of several lullabies, if you’d like.” It’s rather unsurprising that Kokichi had lied to him, in any case.

His level of energy must have an equal burnout, right?

“Nope. It’s not the same. I want a kiss instead~ I’ll call it even.”

With such a dreamy tone, it’s nearly impossible to tell if he’s joking or not. Surprise again paints Kiibo’s features, and his hands tighten around Kokichi’s. “Ah-- I see… Unfortunately for you, I will choose not to until you are in your bed. I hope you understand.”

He’s exercising his developing sarcasm.

This small fact makes Kokichi laugh. “...I get it. I must be a bad leader if Kiiboy wants to make all the rules..” With this, he moves toward the bed, gently guiding Kiibo as he walks. Kiibo steps with him carefully. The contact is very little, and yet he feels deeply warm.

Kiibo is not given the time to dwell on that for very long, though. The ground quickly moves out from under him!

Kokichi, suddenly not-so-keen on fighting battles he will lose, immediately releases him from his grasp.

Though the fall to the floor is short and almost painless, Kiibo shouts in his shock regardless. Something or other clatters together in the racket. Kokichi stares down at him, bewildered. Whatever it was, he’d cleanly navigated around it…

“..Ouma-kun!” Kiibo feels a little more flustered than anything else, so what else can he do but scream about it. “Leaving whatever you wish on the floor is dangerous! I could have gotten hurt...”

But you didn’t, though… With a slightly uncharacteristic grimace on his face, Kokichi got about quickly scattering the objects with his feet. “Like a buncha marbles could hurt a robot, anyway.. I’m super forgetful, so these things happen.”

Marbles?

Kiibo squints in the dark. Though faint, he can make out the small glass orbs with the light shining from his body.

They’re everywhere.

“...Turn the light on, please.” It’s a demand phrased as kindly as possible. There’s something that makes a little more sense now; Kiibo knows to an absolute what he’ll find when Kokichi obliges him.

Kokichi almost seems to be bracing himself when he does. There’s a breath he hardly realizes he’s holding.

And his room is another realm, too.

To say nothing of the marbles, there’s hardly any empty floor space at all. Toys and small, useless kitchen appliances in their unopened boxes are stacked wherever they would fit. Even tinier figurines of characters Kiibo has never heard of line any flat surface. Kokichi’s bed is at the center of it all, decked out with plushies.

Kiibo quickly hops to his feet, the shock washing over his entire body. The untouched nature of nearly everything he lays his eyes upon gives an alien feeling of cleanliness...

“What is all of this? You cannot seriously be living this way!”

Kokichi’s body feels cold once more. He folds his arms over his chest. He’d been preparing for something like this for a long time, but… “Huh? Leave me alone! You’re janking my business empire just by lookin’ at it!”

Selling it? Kiibo pauses to ponder that… “That has to be a lie! Ouma-kun, if you need help getting rid of these things, then--”

“No way! It’s mine, so keep your hands to yourself!” As if protective, Kokichi quickly crosses in front of Kiibo to stand before one of the messier stacks of boxes.

“There is no way you need every single thing in this room! I can help you, so--”

Kiibo attempts this offer a second time and Kokichi quickly cuts him off again.

"I don't need your help!!" He exhales, and quickly scoops up an unopened waffle iron. "Your brethren… wouldn't it just break your heart? I guess you don't understand that, since you're just a robot…"

It manages to blindside Kiibo, but only just. "N-no… That's extremely robophobic! And more to the point, has nothing to do with this!" He extends his arms for the box, though. "Hand it here. You do not need it."

Kokichi sticks his tongue out at Kiibo and turns to hide the box from his grasp. "No way, no way, no way! I don't wanna heartless jerk to decide what I get to keep…"

Heartless. Again. Kiibo scoffs outright and balls his fists at his sides. "I will not take this from you. I have gone out of my way to extend my help. Clearly, you have a problem. I cannot imagine that this mess is good for your peace of mind.."

"Doesn't matter!" Static sets in in Kokichi's brain and he tosses the box aside almost carelessly. "It's my stuff. If it drives you so nuts, then get outta my room…!"

The robot huffs in frustration. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"I don't want your stupid kiss anymore anyway!"

That does it. For the first time since his date of creation, Kiibo says, "Fine, then!" and storms out. This time, he's careful to avoid the marbles. "If you change your mind, there is only one place to find me."

Ah. That was a lie.

Kokichi watches him leave with empty eyes and finds himself fiddling with his hands. Of course he'd actually leave. Thinking something like that, he snatches up a handful of the marbles that had caused this shitshow to begin with. But, because he's so clingy, he'd offer to come back any time. That's Kiibo. Kokichi groans in thought.

The spheres that roll around his hand are swirled in purple and blue. Made to look like miniature galaxies, they're important to him because…

There was a time when Kiibo had been a little less-than-concerned about Kokichi's sleep schedule. He'd been too excited to have someone to keep him company during the hours that anyone else would be asleep. It was Kokichi's favorite time of day.

The AV room smelled of popcorn, but Kokichi had been shoveling pizza into his mouth like his life depended on it. Kiibo's small warning about his figure earned little but a noncommittal grunt and yet another slice.

It made sense that the robot was the only one entirely focused on the movie. If it was an opportunity to learn about what Kokichi liked, he would be a fool not to take it.

Unfortunately, this one seemed a little over the top for him. Robots like himself were hardly meant to be driven into battle, much less ones so dangerous. Shaking his head, he looked over to Kokichi.

"... Have you seen this one before, Ouma-kun?"

"Mm?" Kokichi rolled his head over his shoulder and quickly finished the bite. "...'course I have. I'm an expert, yeah?" He tossed the remains of the crust onto the open box.

Kiibo nodded, then fell silent afterward.

"... What? You bored already?"

"N-no!" Kiibo was quick to try and lie about it, but noting Kokichi's expression, explained himself just as speedily. "...I was just thinking… I'd rather experience something new with you."

If Kiibo is correct, his companion seemed shocked for but a moment. It was quickly replaced by an unreadable smirk, though. "...Is that so?" Kokichi reached a hand out to delicately skirt his fingers along Kiibo's chest, lovingly tracing the plates. "I know of a special something."

That sultry expression is clear as day, and Kiibo's face immediately lights up a searing red. "A-Absolutely not!! I am telling you this for the last time!" He smacks Kokichi's hand away, sending the Supreme Leader recoiling with a loud laugh.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! You wanna pick something else? I don't mind. Kiiboy chose me, so he's gotta have great taste…"

Just as usual, Kiibo was quick to bounce back from Kokichi's teasing. He rolled his eyes and searched the couch cushions for the remote.

… A slightly less overt flirting attempt would, of course, fail. Kokichi should've known. He clicks his lips and slides a little closer to the robot, enough to press their shoulders together.

"Oi, Kiibaby."

"Hm?"

He reached for a pillow and pressed it against Kiibo's side. His head followed so that he was resting against the other boy. Then, looking at him inquisitively, he asked, "...You mind?"

Kiibo was sure the warm feeling that bubbled up in his chest was just residual embarrassment. He decided to focus on the television instead, suddenly unable to meet that ever-sharp gaze. "...N… Not at all. Are you comfortable?"

Hardly. "Yeah."

A faint smile appeared on Kiibo's face. They were silent for but a moment as Kiibo browsed the movie library.

"Oh yeah, I gotta show you something."

That said, Kiibo is not entirely sure where Kokichi retrieved this thing from. When he looked down, he was holding up a small suede bag. Kokichi parted the top, freely allowing the small spheres to pour all over his arm and himself.

The sound startled Kiibo, but he regarded the marbles with interest. "...Huh? Why marbles?" … and why the mess.

"Dunno. Super neat, right?" He picked one up only to hold it closer to Kiibo's face than entirely necessary. "Looook. Iruma-chan gave 'em to me. Somethin' about me being a 'monkey-brained fuck' and 'totally loving her blue ballsack'--don't gimme that face!! I'm serious!!"

Disregarding his rather vulgar comparison, Kiibo took the marble between his fingers in thought. It's glittery.

This is definitely the kind of thing Kokichi liked…

"She had a super red face, too…" Kokichi snorted. "Think the alien is trying to make friends."

"... If Iruma-san is going out of her way to do nice things for you, you should be a little nicer."

Kokichi scoffed and cozied up to Kiibo yet further. "... Yeah, whatever. I'll work on it."

Even if that was a lie, Kiibo didn't mind. At least he was willing to concede the point at all. Feeling somewhat risky, he slid his arm to rest over Kokichi's shoulder and pulled him in.

Kokichi grinned against the blood that rushed to his face.

…

Stupid, self-righteous Kiibo.

"You dumb robot!!" Kokichi casts the marbles he'd scooped up into the corner of the room. They smash into the floor and erupt into a sea of clatters.

And with a frustrated huff, he stomps toward his bed.

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

Kiibo is something of a stickler for rules.

That does not mean he obeys them. Kokichi finds that, instead, the robot will find hundreds of justifications for his actions. And then, when he is caught regardless…

He sure will scream about it.

Kokichi exits his adjoining bathroom with a dramatic sigh and shuts the door on the steam that threatens to follow. Kiibo, from the other side of his room, is the one who notices first.

He immediately rockets up straight and shouts in surprise for good measure. Ever the jaded one, though, Kokichi simply stares--at first, shock. Then, disbelief. He's the first to speak as Kiibo's expression rapidly becomes more resolute.

"...So? Whaddya have to say for yourself, Kiiboy?"

Kiibo tightens his hands into fists. Suddenly, he seems just about frustrated enough to explode for real. Kokichi's scrutiny is unwavering.

"I-I did not realize that you were--" He realizes that he's answering the wrong question before Kokichi even opens his mouth to say so. "Ngh… I am not sorry, Ouma-kun!! If you are not going to handle this, then I have taken it upon myself to do so!"

Kiibo also hardly understands the concept of minding his own damn business.

Kokichi narrows his eyes. "Why? Do you really care that much about making me miserable? You're super cruel…"

The lofty way that Kokichi speaks only serves to make Kiibo just that much more irritated. "No, no, no! You do not understand! This is for you. Excessive clutter must be bad for your health!"

Kokichi runs his hands through his damp hair. Again with the health. When did Kiibo become so concerned about that?

"Clutter. For real? I got it totally organized, so back off of me!" Just thinking about Kiibo rummaging through his stuff makes him itchy…

Kiibo opens his mouth to spit out another gigantic retort, but freezes. The way he speaks to Kokichi is often quite hectic, but always, if he is to dig, then…

Though he hoped he would calm down if he gave it a moment, he still can't help but yell about it. "...Why are you this way? You have no use for any of this. If you are truly so bothered by my offer, then please explain." Regardless of the answer Kokichi gives him, though, there's no way he'll give up.

Even still, though, it's hardly like Kokichi wants to do this. His mouth forms a word and closes again, he utters only a sound of slight frustration in his distress. Well, it's easy to admit he has a problem--to himself. But Kiibo…

Well, Kiibo worries about him. It's not really so ideal. To share a detail is weakness and--

Kiibo tilts his head, then, in the following silence. He offers something innocuous, "... It's okay. Please trust me." and it happens to be Kokichi's magic words. The leader frowns further and pulls on strands of his hair.

Finally, he says something else. "...Fine! ...I trust you. But I'm gonna tell you a story, so listen up, 'kay? If you interrupt, I'll have your heart harvested."

"Th-- You cannot do that!!"

"Kiiboy."

Kiibo squeaks and presses his fingers together. "...I-- I see. Thank you for the opportunity."

Kokichi nods and steps past Kiibo (who now notices the marbles had been picked up) only to make his way to his desk. He quickly slides one of the drawers open and fishes an object out from it. What he holds up is a decorative keychain--glittery metal stars suspending a sleeping cat, as if dreaming.

Kiibo recognizes it immediately, but remains in the silence he was told to keep.

"... So… I know I told you something super important when we got this guy. I guess it slipped my Kiibaby's mind.." He jingles the keychain as he turns back to look at the robot. "You remember, yeah?"

… while Kiibo isn't sure what Kokichi is on about, of course he remembers. That night was…

Well, while it was one of Kokichi's more dangerous ideas, Kiibo still has to admit how fun it actually sounded. A night on the town, for just the two of them, to get away from this boring school. The leader had been so happy when he suggested it, too.

Seeing that smile, Kiibo had been excited as well.

Kokichi seemed about as frantic as he was excited and happily led Kiibo everywhere that the robot was willing to follow. He found interest in the sprawling arcades and Kokichi's apparent skill at these digital games.

He was happy to try and teach Kiibo, too, offering something like 'special, valuable lessons' and heavily laying the praise on where he could. Though Kiibo would’ve been happy adventuring with Kokichi well into the morning, once he took note of how late it actually was, he was quick to suggest that they return to the academy.

That Kokichi agreed was a pleasant surprise, but he demanded that they ‘hit one more place’, first. His curiosity winning out over his concern, Kiibo accepts this simple condition.

He is then led to a hole-in-the-wall type of place lined to the brim with small gachapon machines. Compared to the arcade, the activity here was dwindling at best. Kokichi offered little instruction, having simply told Kiibo to pick out something for him that seemed interesting.

Thinking back to the marbles, what Kokichi likes is obvious.

It felt irresponsible to waste too much money in a place like that, so Kiibo only rolled the machine of his choosing once. It featured small glittery keychains of various breeds of cat. Shiny collectibles seemed to be his best friend's favorite, after all.

When he flagged down Kokichi once more, the other boy was also holding a capsule ball in his hands. Without any warning and entirely gracelessly, Kokichi tossed the ball straight for Kiibo.

"Here ya go! Catch!"

"W--Waahh!!"

Somehow, he managed to grasp it just before it hit the floor. Kiibo frowned heavily as Kokichi stepped all the way over; the way he patted him on the back for his efforts was almost insulting.

With a scoff, he grumbled out, ".. Thank you, Ouma-kun."

"You're welcome! Since an awesome leader like me picked it out for you, you better be completely honored!"

Ah. Kiibo blinked and stared down at the capsule Kokichi had given him. Knowing then that Kokichi found him something as well, Kiibo felt all the more proud of what he'd picked out.

"..A-Ah. I see. Still, perhaps a warning next time?"

"Next time, it's coming out of your paycheck directly."

"My… my what?!"

Kokichi smacked him lightly on the shoulder blade and spoke loudly. "Quiiiet! As my subordinate, you must have picked out something great, right?"

As usual, his near-constant weaving of words that asked more questions than they answered had Kiibo in a tailspin. He decided to shelve both of these discussions for a later date to focus on what was more relevant, as well: his own capsule. With that, he shook his head and found himself grinning.

"Of course I did. I have studied your taste in gifts, so I know you will love this. Here." He held the blue capsule out to Kokichi.

It was clear that Kokichi had a sarcastic comment lined up to respond with, but his gaze quickly fixed to the ball instead. From a quick look, it was impossible to make out the contents, so he simply took it and rolled it around in his hand.

Kiibo hesitated before asking, "...Are you...not going to open it?"

"Nooope. It's flashier to wait a minute, isn't it?"

He had no idea what Kokichi meant by that. It seemed pointless, so he opened up the red capsule Kokichi had given him, instead. Inside was a plastic charm of a paper lantern. Kiibo held it delicately up with his fingers, and…

Just looking at it, he did feel happy. Even painted on, the colors were warm.

"...This is nice. From you, I could have expected something tasteless…" That was rude, actually. But he does not apologize. "Thank you. I mean it this time."

Kokichi's arm fell over Kiibo's shoulder again and he felt the weight of the leader leaning against him. He was hiding a smile, albeit poorly. "Duh, naturally! Keep it close to you, so you're always thinking about me, okay?"

(Wait…)

Kiibo knew he didn't need a charm for that. He laughed a little nonetheless, mesmerized by Kokichi's bashful expression. "If that is what you wanted, it might have been easier to just ask--"

"--no, no!! Not taking that from some dumb old robot! I'm going home!!"

More smug than he had any right to be, Kiibo followed Kokichi out.

…

The city truly never slept. Even as the hour continued to age, bright lights and gigantic screens remained lit up for all that still wandered their streets. Kokichi never grew out of his fascination with them.

He and Kiibo stood at the street corner just outside of the gachapon shop, waiting around for Kokichi's 'weirdo dad' to pick them up. Meeting such a man seemed interesting, but Kiibo was more interested in Kokichi's thoughtful expression.

Before he found the chance to ask first, the Supreme Leader began, "... did you have fun, Kiiboy?"

The question itself meant more than Kiibo's own answer, he thought, but replied quickly anyway. "Yes! I did. I've never been anywhere like it."

Kokichi grinned and crossed his arms up behind his head. Then, he leaned back dramatically to peer at the sky. "Ahh~ I'm glad. You're learning to cut loose, did you know? You can thank me any time."

...Was that true? Kiibo felt pretty happy when he thought about it that way. He stared fondly at Kokichi. "...Is that so? It is true that you are easy to relax around. Even if I do not understand you, I wholeheartedly believe that you…" His hand curled close to his chest--saying what he wished to was almost embarrassing, actually, but he felt that Kokichi needed to know. "You must be fond of me. And that makes me happy. Like this, it is much easier to be myself."

The expression that graced Kokichi's face was faintly surprised, but he seemed ready to explode from joy nonetheless. Silently he dropped his arms just to wrap one around one of Kiibo's

"...You're super full of yourself, it's nasty." The words were hardly genuine. "But… I like you. And I got plenty of stuff to teach you, yeah? If you'll stay with me forever."

The feeling behind those words was lost on the naive robot that simply replied, "Definitely. I will be sure that you someday learn the error of your ways regarding my robotic nature, as well."

And for a second, there was silence…

Then Kokichi snorted loudly.

"Sure, sure, I got it!! Super looking forward to it." And with that, he brought that blue capsule up to the light. Kiibo watched carefully as he simply squeezed one end to pop it open. Then, with a certain childlike fascination, he retrieved the keychain and dangled it in front of his vision.

Stars, and a precious sleeping Scottish Fold.

Kokichi's eyes shined, but…

"...Kiiboy, I hate it."

"What?! You're definitely lying!!"

The Supreme Leader blew the smallest raspberry in history. "...You're right. It's my favorite thing in the entire world… I'm going to keep it forever, so I never forget about this."

(Hold on.)

(That has to be it.)

Satisfied with that new answer, Kiibo nuzzled against Kokichi.

…

"That was the first time I told Kiiboy how I feel! You get it now, right?" Kokichi is frowning. Having thought about it extensively, though, Kiibo feels like he understands why.

He breaks his promise of silence to review his results. "You kept it so that you would not forget." Of course… but since he said it so plainly back then, it almost felt like a joke. "If that is what you meant, then you need only say so. I am glad that it is still important to you."

Being a dense fucker is unfortunately also a talent of Kiibo's. Kokichi groans. "It's all important to me. I told you that a dumb robot wouldn't get it. You're so mean!!"

…

Oh, now I get it.

The recognition flashes on Kiibo's face for but a moment--and in that second, he seems taken aback. "I am not a dumb robot!! If you have--" It feels sad to say it, but, "...If you're so forgetful, then you should simply keep a journal! I am sorry that you have to be afraid of losing your memories."

It riles Kokichi up, though he still seems a little saddened. "What's the difference? I already got it all like this. I don't want you to touch it anymore!"

"From my own research, I have learned that living with so much junk reduces productivity and causes heightened anxiety. It is no wonder you seem to have trouble sleeping. That is why I will not budge. We will find something better for you."

Kokichi only groaned again.

"... Please. I am better because of you. It is not often that you tell me what troubles you, so this time I will do my best to help...so that you may be the same."

Such a pushy robot…

Kokichi always loved the boy that worked so tirelessly to understand him. Even if it's only for the triumph of being right, it's…

… it's nice.

"I get it, Kiiboy… I said I'd trust you, so it's only fair. What's your plan, huh? You wouldn't be so heartless as to make me toss it all out…"

"No. I understand now. We will work to organize this. You need more shelves… but it will take a while. In the meantime… I'd like to hear it from you. More of your stories. I will definitely remember."

The surprise is decidedly pleasant if Kiibo reads it off of Kokichi's features. His chest swells with pride. The Supreme Leader was always awkward in his own right. Given a little proper coaxing, though, he would open up every time.

"Alright, alright… You're always so damn hard headed! But I'm a super gracious sort, so we're a perfect match…"

It's a compliment in this case for sure, so Kiibo lets that one slide. He puts his hand to his chin in thought. "Nonetheless, we will need to reduce this eventually. In your private time, perhaps write your thoughts down instead. But I said that I would stay with you forever, so there's hardly any rush."

The onslaught of support from his completely tenacious boyfriend already had Kokichi reeling, but having those important words brought up again feels like the nail in his heart. His face burns red. Back then, he really did word it in a too-embarrassing way, didn't he? "Shut up! Geez… if it's because my precious Kiiboy is worried about me, I'll get it taken care of. It's all a mess like this, anyway…"

Hearing Kokichi so thoroughly embarrassed, but decidedly very pleased, has Kiibo's chest warming in a way he's not sure how to describe. His smile is borne entirely of it.

"Thank you. Let's get started… there is a lot to do."

"Nope! Not yet."

"Huh?"

Kokichi issues his next demand in a wavering voice.

"...You still owe me that kiss."

Kiibo replies, knowing the answer already, “You said you did not want it!”

“Of course, that was a lie!”

But with the way Kiibo rolls his eyes, laughs bashfully, and then closes the gap between them… Kokichi knew he wouldn't need something like marbles to remember.

[free-pool-trash]

Cuddling with the Free! Boys [Continued]

Requested by anon: Hi! Can I get cuddling headcanons with Natsuya, Ikuya, Asahi and Kisumi? I love your blog <3

Hi, of course you can! Sorry these took so long I hope you like them!

Word count: 1,509

Masterlist

Natsuya:

Whatta babe

His favorite type of cuddling would be when you curl into his side and he wraps his arm around your shoulder

Most nights he just loves coming home to you and pulling you onto the couch next to him, pulling you into his side and throwing one arm around you and using the other to hold a beer

Beer and cuddles are the key to this boys heart I swear to god

While we're on the topic, drunk cuddles

These involve many many many kisses, he does his usual cuddle tactic but after a couple too many beers he turns into some sort of affection giving monster

He starts snuggling into your neck and giving you sloppy kisses while he giggles, by this stage he's abandoned his empty beer bottle and given you his full attention

”You're the best babe.”

Dragging him to bed is some effort but he's adorable so it's worth it

When you two sleep, you usually cuddle

He's usually on his back with your head on his shoulder, his nose in your hair and an arm draped around your waist

Sometimes he comes home late after being away for competitions and you'll already be asleep so when you wake up he's turned you around so that your heads against his chest and both of his arms are wrapped around you

If he wakes up first in this situation he'll squeeze you softly and pepper kisses on your face until you wake up

He gives out a lot of body heat which is great when it's cold, not so much when it's hot but you learn to live

He never admits to loving cuddles specifically because he usually refers to it as “relaxing” but if ever he's denied his “relaxation” he turns into a toddler who is in desperate need of a nap

He can cuddle anywhere literally doesn't care where you guys are or what you're doing

Ikuya:

This boy loves a good cuddle let's be real, especially with you

He's a little spoon for sure, loves to be held, melts a little bit each time you give him a little squeeze

Ikuya usually has a lot going on in his brain so he loves being able to just lay with you and vent and know that you're there for him

Kiss his head, just do it, he let's out these little hums of appreciation each time you do and it is the sweetest

His favorite place to cuddle is in his or your bed, he loves when you're both laying on your sides, facing each other with the blankets pulled up high. Your arms around his shoulders and your hands coming up to run through his hair, he wraps his arms around your waist or throws his leg over your hip

This is his absolute favorite thing to do after a long day of college and training, he loves talking with you about his day or how he's feeling because you're one of the only people who listens and actually understands his feelings, he loves falling asleep next to you and waking up still wrapped in your arms

When he wakes up with you he usually ends up having a pretty great day because he woke up happy

In public he'll really nonchalantly throw an arm over your shoulder if he needs some love

You can never resist the urge to kiss his cheek every time he does that, the blush he gets in return is priceless

It's an unspoken rule between you that you must hug (and kiss) before you leave for class in the morning

If you don't that's how you can tell something is wrong, whether it be with you or with Ikuya, you just know

Sometimes if you're feeling a little needy or under the weather Ikuya will right away take charge, he'll plop you both down across the couch and have you sitting between his legs and your back pressed against his chest, he hold your hands and moves them with his when he wraps his arms around your stomach (idk if that makes sense?) And leans his head on your shoulder

Leaves teensy tiny kisses on your neck and jaw in these situations

Cuddle time is when the most “I love you”s are exchanged

Ikuya is a complete and utter softie once you get your arms around him

And he knows it too.

Asahi:

Fuck do I wanna cuddle with this boy

He's a fairly energetic guy but that can fluctuate so you never really know

Some days he wants to have you laying against his chest with his arms around you, other days he wants to wrap his arms around your waist and follow you around while resting his chin on your head

Having said that, there's one thing that always manages to keep him content and that thing is morning cuddles, when it's dark and gloomy and cold and he wakes up cozy and warm with your adorable sleeping face hiding from the cold in the crook of his neck his heart melts and he can't help but pull you impossibly closer

If this happens on a weekend good luck getting anything done, lazy cuddle days tend to happen quite often with Asahi

Cuddles are the answer to all of his problems and cure to his insecurities I'm telling ya.

When you cuddle a lot of the time it's just one of you hanging out of the other since neither of you care about who's around you tend to do it a lot and hanging out of each other is the easiest course of action, most commonly you'll have your arms around his shoulders, his will be holding your hips, and your head will be in the crook of his neck while he rocks softly, you usually do this before he has to compete, you whisper “you're a genius” to him while pecking his face with kisses

He lives for that shit

With you he loves having your head laying on his lap and playing with your hair, loves seeing your face as you tell him about your day, and with the way you smile up at him he can't help but lean down and kiss you softly

As sweet as he is, he's also a little shit.

When your heads on his lap he likes to run his hands up and down your arms which is all nice and great until he slips them across to your stomach and starts tickling you

Every.

Fucking.

Time.

A tickle fight then ensues, but it usually ends in goofy cuddles mixed in with many many many kisses

He's so warm but like no so warm that hugging him makes you wanna sweat but just warm enough that you feel instantly comfy when you snuggle up to him, yanno?

He won't ever deny you cuddles, for denying you would be denying himself

Kisumi:

Amazing cuddles let's just get that out there right off the bat

He has a hug that's both warm and tight and it's incredible

When you're alone together he likes to pull you into his lap, your legs either side of his with you facing him and your arms hugging around his shoulders and his wrapped around your torso, it's the perfect position for him to be able to rest his cheek against your head and give you little kisses as you talk to each other about your day

In public Kisumi likes to have his arm around either your shoulders or waist, he quite likes when you burrow into his side, especially when there are others around because he loves when people know that you're his

If you're cuddling in bed you usually lay between his legs and have your head on his chest, he loves having you there because it's easy for him to throw his arms around you and hold you, he'll play with your hair while he's at it

He likes just holding you but he love love loves when you take control of cuddling

Sometimes he gets back to your apartment before you do on days when you have class and he'll be laying on your couch, so at times like those you drop all your shit and slide in beside/on top of him, your hands shoot right up to stroke his hair and kiss his perfect little face, you ask him all about his day and how it's been and just generally shower him in attention and affection

He gives off a good amount of body heat yet he's always cold?

Him being cold is a plus for you since it means more cuddles tho

Sometimes in the mornings when it is really cold and you're both waiting on the train he'll pull you into him and be all like, “Just making sure you don't get too cold.”

Cue his adorable nervous laughter

The other guys like to tease him and say how he's like a magnet and you're a piece of metal

But kissme don't give a fuck

He adores being close to you

Doesn't matter where, doesn't matter when

Much love

[ryncorrect]

university!au: day6 wonpil

first of all i will definitely do poorly on this because,,, you know,,,,, he’s so precious and i don’t think my words can do it justice ksbdjshs i wanna make the sweetest scenario for him

but i suck at sweet stuffs smh bye

name: kim wonpil

major: modeling (i still cant believe this is an actual major im living under a rock smh)

other activities: member of music club, keyboardist and main singer of the university band

jae calls him “the backbone” of the music club because wonpil participates in all club events, he always takes part in weekly activities, and he actively finds new recruits

jae on the other side pops up once in a blue moon to play guitar, do shit, then disappears

don’t worry ever since jae starts dating the newest member who happens to be wonpil’s bestie he’s more active now

honestly more than half of their club members joined because wonpil made them to

he’s persuasive and convincing okay you would end up eating rocks if he told you it’s good for health

but he’ll never do that ever bc he speaks no lies okay he’s like the sweetest person in the earth

he’ll cry by the sight of cute puppies, do i have to explain further

wonpil was nominated as the club president but the other candidate park sungjin who’s also his roommate beat him by one vote

well he prefers to be just regular member anyway, that way he can still do a lot of things for the club but with less responsibilities

you see he’s really nice, he’s caring, he’s hardworking, he’s confident, he knows how to present himself and he’s hella attractive

he’s taking modeling as his major do i make myself clear

everyone LOVES wonpil

and i mean sometimes it’s just not only a platonic love but like an “i will give you my heart and soul please marry me” love

too bad he’s oblivious af

someone: i,, i like you wonpil,,,, d-do you like me too?

wonpil: of course!!! you’re my friend!!!!!!!!!

someone: ….oh ok

accidental friendzone

but you know he doesnt actually mean to do that, he just doesn’t think anyone likes him like that

moreover he already has someone in mind

aka the coffee shop girl

aka Y O U

yeah hello guys i am: still lame

the first time he met you was on exams week

everyone was busy and stressed af and running on almost no sleep

except maybe wonpil

not because he was fully prepared but more like he forgot exams week was coming until the day before so he just decided to wing it lol whatevs

anyway his roommate aka sungjin asked him if he could go buy him a double shot espresso so wonpil did

he rarely visits coffee shops tbh and when he does he always orders vanilla latte with extra syrup for himself

wonpil seems to be that kinda person who tries to enjoy coffee but can’t handle the bitter taste its so frickin cute and trust me you think so too

so anywayyyy yeah he never saw you, aka the new barista, before

it was ur first work day as well btw and he was ur first customer

he didn’t know why but watching you being nervous made him nervous too

just imagine a stuttering costumer and a stuttering barista

everyone watched you two with anxiety

but even when wonpil was a nervous wreck he didn’t forget to smile and before leaving he said to you, “thanks, have a great day!!!!!!!!!!!”

honest to god it made your whole day better

anyway let’s move on to the second meeting

he comes back and this time he orders a vanilla latte, but being the clumsy ass that you are, you slightly confused his order

he receives his coffee and takes a sip and he freezes

you ask whats wrong and he’s like,, uh nothing,, the coffee is just,,,, kinda bitter today??? ha,,,hahahhaha,,,,

you stand still

wait

he asked for EXTRA SYRUP not EXTRA SHOT you dumbfucc

you offer to make him a new one and he refuses saying it’s fine!!! but you still feel bad so you insist but he’s like no!!! i gotta stay awake anyway i have an important quiz today i have to study! by the way uhhhh i’ve never seen you around until recently???

you introduce yourself and he introduce himself blablabla it’s awkward and your palms keep sweating for some reason

before wonpil left, he didn’t forget to say “have a great day!! i’ll see you around then!!!”

he’s so sweet uwu

seeing him and making him his vanilla latte (extra syrup) is one of the best parts of your job tbh

and he visits every single time you’re working which makes it better

why is his smile so adorable what the fuck

and there’s something about the way he walks that keeps you looking i mean boiiiii does he know how to present himself holy shit

that feeling when you see someone so beautiful you want to cry

the more you see him the more you want to know about him

what major is he in? what is he usually do outside the class? what kind of person is he? does he have a lot of friends? what’s his hobby? stuffs like that

too bad he always comes when it’s busy at the cafe so you can’t talk too much

neither he ever tries to initiate a conversation with you except his usual “hello! how are you today?” and “thank you, you make the best coffee! have a nice day!! see you!!!”

let’s admit it you highkey have a crush on him and EVERYONE knows

wELL it’s because you always wear that expression like "goddammit why must kim wonpil be so cute if he ain’t gonna ask me on a date” whenever you watch his back as he leaves the cafe

and EVERYONE but YOU knows wonpil’s so into you

whenever someone says something like “just ask him for his number he’ll definitely give it to you” you’re like “wtf nO that’s creepy and he won’t!! he doesn’t even know me!!!”

“he literally only comes when it’s your shift and he always makes sure you’re the one taking his order you oblivious dumbass”

“it’s just a coincidence”

“…..yeah whatever”

but they’re right wonpil’s crushing on you hard

at this point sungjin can even draw a portrait of you although he hasn’t actually met you before

that’s how much wonpil talks about you

from your whole adorable appearance to how cute your little cough is, or how he adores your little smile and the sparks in your eyes when he compliments your coffee, or he’ll describe your apron what the fuck and how he thinks your look so good in white and blue

sungjin’s so done with him

“just ask her out you stalker”

“nO I CAN’T!!! SHE’LL THINK IM CREEPY!!! SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW ME”

“well i bet she remembers your face by now since you always drop by when she’s there”

“but she meets a lot of people everyday there’s NO WAY she can remember me”

you see the problem now?

then one day jae decides to play matchmaker

by “playing matchmaker” i mean he follows wonpil to the cafe and straight up tells you, in front of wonpil’s face and everyone there, “yo this friend of mine wants to take you on a date and he wonders if you’re interested”

you are: blushing

wonpil is: dead pale

you: o-oh… i’m–

wonpil: yO HE’S JUST JOKING HAHAHAHA IM SO SORRY oH My gOd jAE LET’S GO

he drags his tall friend aka jae out of the cafe and since then he never visits again :(

im sad now ugh i told you i suck at sweet stuffs like this

fast forward it’s summer and the university wonpil’s attending is holding a summer festival that’s open for public

well,,,,, you decide to go and you ask some of your friends to tag along

you’re not sure what you’re hoping; maybe you just want to see how the place wonpil’s studying at looks like, or maybe you do wish to meet him by accident or something yanno like a drama

whatever

you promised yourself that if you don’t see him today, you’ll get over him

but if you do see him, you will ask. him. out.

well jokes on you babe he’s there performing on the stage with the band

he’s,,, he’s singing,,, and playing keyboard,,,, omg his voice

as you already know im uncreative soooo by impossible coincidence somehow his eyes spot you in the crowd

btw i imagine them singing Pouring but i think you can pick any songs you like

he’s so taken aback that one second he’s singing and the next second he sees you and his eyes widen and he’s like “I’m falling for–hUH? why are you here??” to the microphone

don’t worry the others cover for his mistake while trying not to laugh

everyone laughs too while looking around to find the person whom wonpil sees

you’re embarrassed as fuck you want to curl up and hide forever

but your so-called-friends don’t let you get away that easy okay it’s your only chance

dw dude wonpil feels the same he wants to immediately get off the stage and die

but sungjin will literally kill wonpil in his sleep if he doesn’t do anything it’s now or never

poor boi has had enough of this pining shit

so after the band performance wonpil has no choice but to approach you

“h-hey! so you watched our stage!”

“y-yeah! it was great!! didn’t know you can sing so well”

“h-haha thanks”

“y-you’re welcome”

silence

more silence

wonpil clears his throat and, “so…”

you blink fast, “yeah…?”

“um uhhh do you wanna see around? i can take you”

“oH of course”

What Am I Even Writing Anymore

well remember your promise earlier? about asking him out?? no???

is it too late to chicken out and forget the whole thing now

you barely know each other it’s so awkward and he looks so fine today and you really don’t wanna push him even further now but if you hesitate longer who knows someone else will ask him first and just the thought alone breaks your heart a little bit

so it’s time to grow a pair and take risks cmon dude you can do this

one

two

“anywaysijustwonderifyou'refreenextsaturday?”

wait

it was!! not!!! your voice!!!!

“huh?”

wonpil clears his throat and repeats slower, “i just wonder if you’re uhhhh free next saturday?”

o shit

o fUck YeAH

you cough a bit before answering, “y-y-yeah i guess??”

“ok um i like, have two tickets for movie if you want to come with me”

that’s like the lamest invitation and you yourself gotta admit that lmao

but oh kim wonpil,, dear,,,, there’s no way i would say no

so you two go on a date

or “casual outing” as you two call it

but everyone knows it’s a date okay even though you two didn’t have any skinskip oops

it’s okay it takes a bit of time but you’ll get there

i mean, since then you two go out together almost every weekend so ye it won’t be that long until the awkwardness wears off

wonpil just cherish you so much he’s afraid he’ll scare you or hurt your feeling by accident so he never boldly initiates anything

the first time you two finally holding hands is when you two go skating, and that’s just because you two are so bad at that

gotta hold each other so you won’t keep falling aye romance

you don’t know this but trust me wonpil talks about it for days sungjin almost decides to move out

he’s still insisting it’s not a date tho

“you know what, i can already imagine you two in like 10 years, standing at the altar and be like, do you marry me as a friend or what? unclear”

“do you think we’ll get married?????”

“oh dear god”

but yeah

you two will get there

somehow

just take your sweet time and give wonpil all the love in the world i beg you

that’s it YAY i think imma work on sungjin’s next wish me luck im running out of lame cliche ideas now lol bye

[titleknown]

In a weird sleazy city, on an early November night, in an apartment slightly too small for hosting parties, there was a celebration being held. If one went up to the door, or looked in the window, one could see lights; a few candles, mostly electric, and hear the sounds of speech...

One could see faces talking about lives no longer amongst them, not solemnly but raucously, as the smell of chilli peppers and beans cooked in lard filled the air and sugar skulls adorned countertops. The host was unusual yes, a great muscular yellow-spined beast of a monster-woman by the handle of Body Shock. with the subtle crackle of electricity around her, but this was not a time where that was relevant.

This was a time for memories, as she roamed around the room, receiving and pushing forward wild antecdotes of days gone by, and music playing from several daisy-chained dollar-store speakers that she added a tune or so to the playlist when she heard someone mentioning a person gone by to them and their favorite song.

And all of this was around a great-small altar, built of brick and cardboard as high as the celling would let it go, and painted in bright colors, adorned with photographs and keepsakes and sugar skulls and candles, a fulcrum around which the party revolved.

And then, suddenly, it stopped. For, the door had creaked open and; into the room entered a woman. She carried an aura that brought a hush upon the crowd, a lean and deathly pallor of power despite the top of her hat barely reached to the shoulders of the next- shortest person in the room.

It was Boss McGlade, arch-criminal and enemy to Body Shock,  and if her eyes were not already blood red, they would have turned such as Body Shock grabbed McGlade by the front of her shirt collar.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Shock said, in a voice b=vaguely approxiamting calm.

“Now, now,” said McGlade, flashing a shark-toothed; smug grin, “Is that any way to treat a guest? It would be gauche of you to disrupt this party with an assault on my person, as would it be gauche for me to commit any acts of assault against yourself in front of so many witnesses.”

Body Shock hoisted her higher “Nice fuckin try, but you still ain’t answered my question” One of the guests had gotten out a sword cane at this point.

“Simply put, because of your exact sort of response, and because I felt I could do so with few reprecussions, it would be of little benefit to yourself  to call the authorities on a party in this neighborhood.”

Body Shock lowered her a bit. It’s fascinating how the two were united in their mutual distaste for cops,  with reasonings that sometimes even matched up. “How the fuck do I know you ain’t here on some bullshit?”

“You would not believe me if I claimed I wasn’t. Plus, again, witnesses would be a means of disadvantage to us both, would they not?”

With that, Body Shock dropped her unceremoniously, with McGlade landing right on her own two feet with equal lack of pretense. “Alright, but I ain’t takin an eye off yas.”

“I would expect nothing less” said McGlade, as she went to get a plate.

The mood went back to celebration, albeit with nervous glances at the strange, blue-pallid woman who seemed only interested in a small cup of ginger-ale and a plate slathered in refried beans. But, her focus was on the altar, and the image at the top.

“Hm. Who is this man? You must find him of a great deal of importance for his position at this apex of your ofrenda.”

“Hey, it ain’t just mine, it’s the whole party’s altar. And if you’re lookin for hostages, you’re a few years too late. He’s gone.”

“An acquaintance of yours perhaps?”

“Fuck me, he’s my grandpa, ! Only motherfucker in the whole fuckin family who was ever nice to me! Like, when I was a kid, my parents bought a rabbit, said they’d got me a pet. I was so happy to see that lil’ fucker, Trucker I named ‘em. Month later, turns out it was fattenin’ him up for meat! And they laughed n laughed when I had the stew n I asked where Trucker was”.

“While outside my context, I would presume that seems hideous behavior.”

“I cried for a whole day! But abuelo, he was over there for dinner that night, didn’t know until they told him about 'em, convinced 'em to give him the bones n what was left of the skin for a lil funeral; in a shoebox. He even held a lil ceremony, n kept the foot on a necklace for me to keep,”

Body Shock pointed up at the apex of the Ofrenda, and there was an old; shriveled rabbit’s foot by the portrait of the old man “I still remember the vacant lot it was in…”

Body Shock sighed and put her head down “We were the only ones left there that weren’t trainwrecks or complete motherfuckers. He tried to make sure I got what he had when he left, but the parents weaseled a way to get it for their 'business.’ Like, you heard o the Necro-Narco epidemic?”

“I am vaguely familiar” said McGlade, lying only in that she was in fact extremely familiar with its various fallouts.

“Yeah, that was part o what they did. But hey,” Body Shock said, perking up immediately “they’re probably in a fuckin ditch somewhere, let 'em be forgotten!” She held up a drink and shouted, “A toast to abuelo, wherever the fuck he is right now!”

Glasses were raised, a toast was shouted, and Boss McGlade was suddenly looking down. If there was a vulnerable expression on her face, nobody but her could see it under her wide-brimmed hat and downturned look. Her hands were in her pockets.

“So, whattabout you Doc?” Body Shock responded “Got any loved ones you wanna offer to, some fuckbuddy got whacked by the mob; some dead ma who you wanna avenge or whatever people like y-”

She stopped as McGlade dug something out of her pocket. There was a slight snap of electricity amongst the silence of the audience, only for it to dissipate once everyone saw what it was. A small plastic figurine of what looked like a toy soldier, but with a broken egg with bat wings for an upper body.

She placed it upon the table next to an old; drippy candle, and dug out and placed a sugar skull next to it from her pockets, one of many she had pettily knicked for later consumption. She breathed in a deep sigh, and one could see her hair do a slight bristle as she began to speak:

“I am not at liberty to discuss the further detailings of this event, but I will state that I spent most of my younger life in a series of cruel and abhorrent laboratories, a child treated as simply a prisoner, a child lab-rat. There were others in that lab, and the one I remember most…”

She paused for a moment. “Her name was Susan.”

A few guests could swear they saw tears run down from her eyes. “That wasn’t the name they gave her, but she said she liked it instead of that number they gave us. She was my age, maybe a few months older. She was the only person who was a friend there to me, she shielded me from the punishments for when I had to sneak a scrap of food to not starve from the experiments.”

There were most definitely tears running down from her eyes now. “She used to smuggle in comics and these little figures from this collection. This was one of the ones she didn’t have before she, before she…”

McGlade breathed out a shuddering breath, “I don’t know if she’s even dead. They never found the body. We were going to get married, if we ever got out, we promised each other…”

Body Shock said nothing and walked over. She picked up the figurine, off the table, and placed it right at the top, next to the image of her grandfather.

“Hey, now,” Body Shock sad awkwardly. She wasn’t particularly equipped to deal with her own emotions, no less those of others. “Why don’t we put 'em up top? Seem fitting, like, thematically, yanno?”

Then, transitioning away from that awkwardness, she raised her glass. “A TOAST, TO SUSAN!”

There was a cheer, and a raising of glasses from the other participants and then’; at once; a raised glass from McGlade.

And so, in a weird sleazy city on an early Novermber night, a truce was called for this night alone. It may at first seem strange to call a truce on a holiday of the dead, but the dead never truly die if they are remembered. And, through kindness’ hands, memories work, and the dead may walk again, if but for one night…

So yeah! A more ambitious character piece, to celebrate the true meaning of Day Of The Dead!

As per usual, this drabble is under a CC-BY-SA license for direct adaptation, but all the characters/concepts/settings/ect are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY-Vanilla license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

And, if you wanna support me, maybe check out my Patreon, or even just send a Ko-Fi my way! Every penny is appreciated, and I am eternally grateful for those who donate!

[beatconductor-blog]

AA: y0u tried t0 c0ntact me? AA: s0rry i was busy being a...grub

😎: i got as much yeah 😎: i guess you ungrubbed 😎: bc listen uh 😎: shits wild 😎: hey you know how you told me sometimes i gotta risk shit 😎: im having second thoughts AA: d0 tell 😎: id rather not 😎: jk 😎: just uh 😎: give me a moment 😎: alright so uh 😎: hey funny story did you know socks also called dave 😎: and also i shouldnt be here in the first place and this is probably the biggest mistake of my life and boy i did a lot of those AA: ... hm AA: i supp0se i AA: c0uld have put th0se things t0gether already 😎: could you or did you 😎: and does that mean were in unanimous agreement that i should gtfo yeah kay cool AA: i did n0t AA: and n0 AA: where d0 y0u want t0 gtf0 t0 😎: yanno 😎: anywhere else thats not here 😎: out of this city 😎: this universe 😎: peoples life > Deleted. AA: hmm AA: let me c0nsider this briefly AA: n0 😎: okay 😎: but uh 😎: i guess shits a lil awkward 😎: like someone shitting into the punch bowl at a wedding awkward(edited) AA: a little bit yes AA: but y0u didnt kn0w did y0u? AA: y0u still d0nt kn0w the full st0ry i assume 😎: yeah no 😎: but i know a lot of other shit ���: and just 😎: well shit 😎: i guess this is all a lil too much too handle 😎: and im kinda still panicing 😎: look arent you proud of my incredible self-awareness AA: y0u d0nt have t0 handle it right n0w y0u kn0w AA: y0u are pr0bably still sh0cked y0u sh0uldnt decide anything right n0w 😎: alright whos gonna do the deciding then tho AA: im deciding y0u need a g00d hug 😎: sounds like a sound decision AA: im c0ming 0ver then 😎: alrighty 😎: uh ara 😎: thanks

Coco 👑Yesterday at 8:19 PM > There's a knock on Dave's door about half an hour later. rootyYesterday at 8:31 PM > There's a loud noise as something gets knocked over, and then most more hasty scrambling. Then a moment of silence, which totally isn't you trying to make yourself look somewhat presentable right in front of the door, nope. > Then you open the door. And boy, it's a mess. You and the apartment. You look like you didn't sleep in three days, which is probably about right, and there's stuff all over the apartment because you most likely didn't stay in a single spot for more than five minutes. > Also, a soft cawing from like three crows that got very comfy inside because of a window that's been open for just as long. Coco 👑Yesterday at 8:39 PM You got worried that whatever got knocked over was Dave for a moment there but he does manage to open up the door, so that's something. The mess inside is easy to ignore, you know Dave well enough and you grew up with a bunch of brothers. The mess that is Dave though... Utterly pitiful. You just pull him into a tight hug right there in the door. rootyYesterday at 9:02 PM Oh, you didn't expect that to go so quick but... Man, you didn't realize how much you really needed that. You stand there awkardly for a moment, then your arms try to find their way somewhere through Aradia's mane. You realize there's no way you can say anything without your voice shaking, so you choose to just be quiet and let that happen. Coco 👑Yesterday at 9:31 PM Nothing a good long hug can't at least make a little better right? But all good things must end so you eventually let go of him to make your way to his couch, kicking off whatever crap is on there. You gesture at him to come sit with you. "You look like shit Dave." It's important to be honest right? rootyYesterday at 9:38 PM "I know." There it was, the shaky voice. And that half laugh didn't really cover it up. You gladly follow her to the couch though and let yourself drop next to her. And... then what? Being honest sounds like a good plan, but you honestly don't know where to even start. So you opt to just bury your face into her and let out a long-drawn-out noise. Coco 👑Yesterday at 10:01 PM "Shhh..." You just pet the mess in your arms. What can you even say about this whole mess? Not a lot. God knows he has every right t be fucked up over it. rootyYesterday at 10:26 PM

Oh hey is it getting wet or is that just you? No, it's totally not your face that's leaking. After a couple of minutes you actually manage to calm down some and turn, so you're lying somewhat comfy on Aradia's lap and just start babbling on your own as the silence gets unbrearable. 

 "So... you know... Sock being a Dave isn't really the problem. I've- I've talked with alternates before. That of other people and my own. The multiverse is a big and weird place. The issue is that he's, like, THE Dave. The- the one from here. I- I almost forgot this isn't my place... That I came from somewhere else. But... I didn't think he'd exist. He wasn't there. There was only Bro and- Fuck, Bro..." Your voice cracks, but you're not done yet. 

"The shit he said about Bro. I thought he was a better one...." Now you're done, as your voice slowly dies in your throat. Coco 👑Yesterday at 11:05 PM This is actually the first time you have seen Dave become this undone and it's breaking your heart. Worst of all there's so little you can really do for him except for stroking his hair in a weak attempt to calm him down. 

"You couldn't have known that about him though. You didn't know he's around when you arrived here right? Don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control." 

Bro though... It hits you just now how little you actually know about this man beyond him existing somewhere maybe. That's about all Dave ever told you and Sock never spoke about him at all until just yesterday. 

"How...How did Bro treat you then?"

rootyYesterday at 11:16 PM

Don't Blame Yourself is a real big fucking word for you. Aradia should know that. But then again, hearing that little reassurance from her was kind of helped. "Better than him..." This one did, at least. It's not that you wanted to keep anything hidden from Aradia this time, but more than you yourself were absolutely not ready to delve into whatever the fuck you left behind.

Coco 👑Yesterday at 11:25 PM

You know that's asking a lot of him but damn, there's nothing to be gained by blaming himself for everything all the damn time. "Well... Perhaps he wanted to make up for how he treated Sock? Whatever the reason, that's not your fault either." rootyYesterday at 11:34 PM

Your hand finds hers and just... holds it. Presses it against your head. The more contact, the better. The only way to make this all somewhat more bearable."This whole thing is a fuck." Coco 👑Yesterday at 11:39 PM

You other hand finds his cheek and gently pets it. Shhh... "It is. But it's not your fuck, you are just along for the ride. That and.. You don't even have the full story do you? Like why Sock wasn't around? Don't run away to earth before you at least talked to him okay?"

rootyYesterday at 11:43 PM

"I'm not, alright. I'm just... I don't know." The touch helped. Something nice you could focus on. "God, he must be freaking out..."

Coco 👑Yesterday at 11:47 PM

You can have plenty of touches Dave. "Probably, yeah... But he's at home, I'm sure he's safe."

rootyYesterday at 11:50 PM

But can you really be sure, Aradia. You sigh. "What do I even say to him.."

Coco 👑Yesterday at 11:51 PM

"Well knowing you guys... Some awkward introduction while you both pretend everything is fine until you eventually break down enough to actually tell each other what's on your mind."

rootyYesterday at 11:53 PM

You actually finally open your eyes and give her an annoyed look. Mostly annoyed because you know she's right. "Thing is I still don't know what's on my mind. It's all a mess. ..I don't wanna leave him hanging though."

Coco 👑Today at 12:01 AM

"Well we're here to try to sort your thoughts a little."

rootyToday at 12:10 AM

"Well uh. Here's a thought: I hate everything that's happening.  I want him to be alright though."

Coco 👑Today at 12:15 AM

"Sounds reasonable. Sounds like there's no way around talking to him too though."

rootyToday at 12:19 AM

You gesture with your free arm. "Well yeah but how!! 'Hey Sock I know things are hella awkward but I appreciate you' doesn't really cut it does it?"

Coco 👑Today at 12:23 AM

"Why not?"

rootyToday at 12:24 AM

"..." You stare at her. "Does it?" Listen. Aradia should know you're bad at this.

Coco 👑Today at 12:30 AM

"It's a start isn't it? It's reassuring to hear that you still care for him!"

rootyToday at 12:31 AM

"I guess. I hate how everyone always makes that shit sound so simple."

Coco 👑Today at 12:38 AM

"It's not simple. It's really hard, but it's important. You just have to try to explain as best as you can and it'll be okay...ish."

rootyToday at 12:40 AM

"Okayish. Now that sounds realistic for once." Actually, okayish sounds pretty okay. Better than what's going on right now.

Coco 👑Today at 12:41 AM

"Okayish can turn into okay with time and some work you know? It doesn't have to be okay right away."

rootyToday at 12:44 AM

You make some frustrated noises. "Why can't it just be okay right away."

Coco 👑Today at 12:48 AM

"You can't just cheat your way past everything else, that's why." You get his frustration though. He get's a big forehead kiss.

rootyToday at 12:52 AM

You pout. "I can still try." But you've actually managed to calm down a bunch. Who knows, maybe not everything would go up in flames.

Coco 👑Today at 12:58 AM

Boop his nose. "Your cheap cheat codes won't work on your brain Dave. Can't glitch through that things walls either." He looks a little better and that makes you smile.

rootyToday at 1:02 AM

"Hey now. You haven't even seen half of what I'm capable of yet. The other half got stuck in the floor once." Her smile actually makes you smile. Damn those gross contagious feelings.

Coco 👑Today at 1:03 AM

"Did you take pictures of your messy glitchy brain? I'd love to see them."

rootyToday at 1:07 AM

"Yeah, but it all looks like vaporwave and dick jokes. Kinda lame, if you ask me."

Coco 👑Today at 1:12 AM

"Aw. I do like this silly brain of yours a lot."

rootyToday at 1:14 AM

"Getting quite mushy there, miss."

Coco 👑Today at 1:15 AM

"Oh no! I will turn it down!" You pull away your hands. No more pets.

rootyToday at 1:17 AM

Oh. No!!! Your desperate noises say that you liked that. Don't take hands away.

Coco 👑Today at 1:18 AM

"But Dave...I can't keep on touching you. That's mushy."

rootyToday at 1:22 AM

"Aw shit. That's a problem. What do you advise?"

Coco 👑Today at 1:29 AM

"Allowing me to mush you up"

rootyToday at 1:30 AM

You wrinkle your nose in fake disgust. "Aw man. Fine. Just this once."

Coco 👑Today at 1:35 AM

Kiss his cheek.

rootyToday at 1:37 AM

Oh. Oh no that's more mush than you expected. And makes you blush a little. Just a little.

Coco 👑Today at 1:40 AM

"Don't get all mushy on me Dave."

rootyToday at 1:41 AM

"Shut up. I'm not. You are."

Coco 👑Today at 1:49 AM

Kiss his nose.

rootyToday at 1:53 AM

Eeeeeeee alright that's getting too much for you to handle. "Okay alright yep." You sit up and rub your face. She can't see how much you're blushing when your back is turned to her. It's like for a moment you actually forgot how much of a crush you got on her. Whoops.

Coco 👑Today at 1:56 AM

"We already done with the cuddling?" You pout.

rootyToday at 4:44 AM

"Sorry girl, I know you can't resist me. I just don't want you to overdose on this Strider quality." Super smooth safe. Almost as if you didn't learn anything.

[galarianace]

"What are Leon and Hop like? I've never met them-- so I'm naturally a bit curious. I keep missing them both." (imperialsea)

|| @imperialsea dared ask this loser to ramble about her favorite idiots for the next 4 hours-

⟡ ═══ ♛ ═══ ⟡ "I-I'm sorry! You'll meet them just as SOON as I get a leash on them!" It might've been more comforting if this was meant in some sort of kinky sense, but no - there is just no keeping tabs on these two without a combination of GPS and leash.

         ˙ "Hop's really great, heheh... We've been best friends for YEARS now, and it's because of him that Leon gave me Shannan, to be Hop's rival, ya? Err, though he also tends to... run off and leave me behind." A pause, then a groan. "Can you BELIEVE that he one time yoinked me out of a perfectly good train instead of waiting for the tracks to clear, and then left me STRANDED in the wild area without telling me a single thing!?" fist raising, her eyebrow twitches a bit. "Ahh... That brat... I gave his arm a good whack when I got my hands on him again..."

         ˙ "But... Well, I like seeing him happy, yanno?" she gives a slight smile, lowering her fist again, to press her index fingers together. "There's been a few times where he was just really down, and it really broke my heart, to be honest... He managed to pull himself back up though. I always thought that was really cool. That you can't keep him down for a long time. So when I took away his dream by beating Leon, it..."

         ˙ Her shoulders sag, hands dropping. "It was real hard, seeing him so hard on himself. It's like everything bad just kinda... took over. And, I dunno, it was like I was responsible for it, kinda... And he was still real nice and friendly, and helped me right away even though he was struggling with himself real bad. I really, REALLY wanted to help him... But of course Galar was in danger, and he kept running off to help it instead of focusing on himself, so I thought I'd just quickly deal with the problem and THEN help him, nice and proper, but... well, by then, I guess Hop had already figured it out? I felt like a horrible friend but... He's just real great. Even though it was dangerous, he went after a frenzied Zamazenta and tried hard to calm him down, though he'd almost gotten attacked. He's a lot braver than people think when they meet him. A lot of people think he's just loud and has too much energy, it'd be nice if they could realize what he's REALLY like, yanno?"

         ˙ "And now, he's working to become a PROFESSOR, can you believe it? He's working hard to help Pokémon, and studying a lot, so I can't help but feel like I gotta put my all into whatever I decide to do as well, or I can't face him." She scratches her cheek, slightly flushed from the excitement of talking about her best friend.

         ˙ "He's also Leon's biggest fan. We watched SO many of his matches together. In fact, by the time I met Leon, I already knew like ALL about him because of all of Hop's stories about him! I didn't really know he told Leon about me just as much, so when we first met it didn't really feel like that, ya? And, he was also just REAL nice and fun, VERY friendly. Err, we DID have to go pick him up at Wedgehurst though. His sense of direction is... I always thought Hop was exaggerating, but... No, I don't got any words for it, if I'm to be honest." she shakes her head with a sigh. "He'd get lost on a one-way street. Trust me."

         ˙ "But, he's always there when trouble pops up, ya?" she smiles warmly, averting her gaze and just ignoring how her cheeks warm up a bit "E-even after I ahm... s-sacrificed him to a bunch of Electrike, he still talked to me and helped me with things. Actually, he's the reason I caught Guillotine, and wasn't... well, Guillotine'd, instead. Because it was DEFINITELY trying that." she winces a bit at the memory, touching her neck to reaffirm herself that yes, it’s still in place. "Can you believe he struggled down a frenzied Doublade all by himself just so I could help fix it? He even got a small scar from it, right here, high by his rib. He just laughed that off though. Said it was worth it because what don't kill you, makes you stronger. And because it helped the Pokémon out, and that's worth everything."

         ˙ "But yeah, he was always going around, helping people, talking to them... It's right that the crowds love him; he was real great with them. He had a real desire to see Galar grow stronger. And his strength is... It's something else, ya? No one'd defeated him for ALL those years. All that time he was just working non-stop for Galar, and knocking down everyone who came to challenge him. He really LOVES to battle, and it's always a real treat to actually see him doing it, too."

         ˙ "And, yanno? When things were going bad, Hop and I REALLY wanted to help Leon, but he sent us away. He told us that we should just do the fun stuff like the challenge and not get distracted by the problems, and that the problems were for the adults, for him to handle, because he was the Champion, and he actually did. It always feels REAL safe when Leon's around, because you just KNOW that he's got you covered, heheehhh..." she presses her fingers together, the flush to her cheeks returning full force - just with a different reason than it had when she'd been talking about Hop. 

         ˙ "I... I didn't... actually wanna fight him, to be honest..." she admits - something she can only do because Elizabeth is a trusted friend. It's not something she can tell just anybody. "I really, REALLY liked to see him as the undefeated Champion... He was like some sorta hero, I guess? But, the kind that was real, the sort you can touch. The sorta hero who always did what he thought right because he was just that good a person, and who was always there because he wanted to help people... But also the sort who LOVED the adrenaline of a strong battle and... A-and he even took a blow from Eternatus himself, despite being right there in front of it, because he had Charizard protect me and Hop. He got real hurt protecting us... " she bites her lip a bit. "Well... I... I liked seeing him at the very top of Galar, like that. So when I wound up his challenger... it was real hard..." she sighs, shaking her head. 

         ˙ Her brow furrows and she has to blink a few times to get rid of the tears glazing over her eyes. There's no reason to cry! "It took me a spell to actually get my bearings too, and, can you believe it? Leon was actually the one who encouraged me to cheer up and just have fun with the match. He could've just gone for an easy win, but instead he wanted a fun, fair fight. One where both parties gave it their utmost so... I did. And... I didn't wanna see him lose, but... I didn't wanna lose either, yanno? I just didn't expect I'd actually win. By the time I realized what happened properly, I was back at home, waking up the next day. I had to see my Champion ceremony on TV because everything kinda went past me but he... Even in that sorta situation he was kind and grand and he was just amazing all the way until the end... I went over to his house right away, cuz I wanted to see him. But he wasn't there. I was afraid he'd be sad but... Not only did he leave behind a Pokémon for me to raise, I couldn't believe that he was actually working on rebuilding Rose Tower, and turning it into Battle Tower! He wasn't a Champion anymore, but he went straight up to the next project without pause! And his family kept talking about how he was so happy, too..."

         ˙ She smiles as she thinks back to meeting Leon and hearing him excitedly talking about what he's been doing, what he's been BUILDING. Even when he's not Galar's Champion in title anymore, she still thinks of him every time a Champion is mentioned. She might've taken his title, but she'll never take his heroic presence : it's something she's painfully aware of.

         ˙ "I'm really rooting for him, yanno? For both of them. I want Leon to be surrounded by all the strongest battles he can wish for, and- and I want Hop to be the best Professor Galar's ever had! One who can help Pokémon all over. I..." her vision blurs a bit again "I just really want them happy..." once more her fingertops come together. They both went through SO many ups and downs... With everything they'd both been working on being pulled away from them, by HER no less, she just REALLY wants them to do what they are doing now, and to be happy doing it. They deserve it. And if there is anything she can do for them at all, then she will.

         ˙ "Ah! Hop and me- we like to team up for the Galarian Star Tournament! Things get real wild there sometimes, heheehhh... We've fought together so many times, both during our journey and now in that tourney, we're REAL good at it by now. I also fought with Leon a few times and that was also great but... Ahm... I dunno, it's like... This incredible PRESSURE, yanno? With Hop it's real comfortable and relaxed, but with Leon there's just this urge to do better and better each time and AH! Can you believe he almost had his Charizard attack MY team in one of our battles!? He got too excited and forgot who he was supposed to fight!!" Needless to say, Leon got the sort of arm smack normally used on Hop.

         ˙ "Whenever Hop needs data on a Pokémon or something in Galar, I go out and search for it, or just let him take it from my boxes if I already got it. And if he's got a field assignment and no one's keeping me busy by trying to destroy Galar by some way or another, I like to accompany him. Ah! And, and sometimes I fight Leon at the battle tower. It's real nice. There's no people in our way here, just us, fighting, with our teams and..." her knees feel a bit weak when she recalls the outfit he tends to don when at work "It's just, it's REAL nice, heheeh..."

         ˙  "AHH! I’ve- I’ve just been talking non-stop, all this time!! I-I’m sorry! I’ll, I’ll leave the rest for you to find out when you actually meet them!! Just- just know that... that they’re both amazing people, okay!?" 

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Doing the Write Thing #36 (painfully [with lots of loner])

So hello.

I said I would have one of these up a week ago if not, disappointment would ensue, so I guess disappointment ensued, because here we are.

I just kind of want to get a little bit real with you guys because I’m just in a really weird period of my life right now?

So, as you guys probably know (especially if you’ve followed this series for a while), I’ve been having a fairly good writing life as of late... I mean, there have been so bumps in the road at times, but nothing major.

I feel like I've recently bumped onto the ‘major’ side of this rough road.

I don’t really know what’s up... But I just feel extremely unmotivated? Which just sucks because I’ve been pretty on fire recently, and all that I’m writing is stuff I’ve been waiting for so long for... In all honesty, I kind of feel like everything I've written in the past week has been unnecessary. And in terms of plot, that isn’t true at all, as I've been writing major events, but I just haven’t been feeling it very much...

Not sure where this lack of energy came from, or why it came at a time so random, but I just wanted to mention that a bit. That’s kind of why I’ve been slacking on this blog... And why I’ve been slacking just in general.

I did film two videos today, which is great, but after doing that, I was just so... overworked... I’m worrying about a lot of things in terms of my writing way too much (with this series, with I’M DISAPPOINTED), so I’ve just been hella bogged down... I don’t know, I was really excited for what I was writing, and then the excitement sort of died... For some reason...

I feel like I should hold off on drafting for a couple days because what I’m writing is just insanely important, and I’m not pulling it off very well... That’s kind of the worst feeling, when you’ve built something up so much, and then you write it, and you fail......

Ohhhhh, hello angst.

I kind of want to write something I don't have to worry about, but I’m not sure what that is. I’d like to dabble in the idea of planning something else for the future, since this one character is kind of pulling on my brain a bit, but I don't know... I’m just so unproductive, and it’s really bumming me out.

I tried writing today, and I did write today, but it was kind of painful... Seriously, the words are just coming out so slowly, and it’s not that good kind of slow. It’s just leading to really bad work, which isn’t good... I feel like I've built a lot of pressure on myself, which I don't mind--I like being under pressure, but I’m kind of getting so worked up that I’m crashing and doing nothing all day... Don’t know if this is a mood thing, or a life thing, but in general, ya girl isn’t feeling it.

I’m just posting this because I like documenting all sides to my writing process. If you’re going through something similar, I’m really sorry. :( To be honest, if you want, we can just eat ice cream and cry or something because this genuinely isn’t fun. :(

Anywho, here’s the update:

Daily word count goal: 250

Words written: 1805

Total word count: 86 907

Total page count: 170

Songs played: I tried with some Daughter, but even that wasn’t helping, so I just turned it off. lol. This is so sad.

Things to know: I’m in that rut where I really want to write, but I just can’t, and not even pushing myself is working...

How I felt: Angsty as hell, kinda insecure, usual angsty things.

Bad haiku to describe writing session: How could this happen / To me I made my mistakes / Got nowhere to run

This is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.

Can’t take the credit for this one, but thank you Simple Plan. And this is the only haiku that isn't bad. Thank you Simple Plan. Simple Plan wins.

I JUST WANT TO SCREAAAAAAAM

HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO MEEEEEEEE

Rating of writing session out of 10 and why: Ugh lord like a 2 how could this happen to meeeeeeee

On a scale from 1-10 my level of stoked-ness is: like a -2

Lyrics to describe writing session: Let me just re-iterate:

How could this happen to me? / I made my mistakes / Got nowhere to run / The night goes on / As I'm fading away / I'm sick of this life / I just wanna scream / How could this happen to me?

Oh also:

So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered / And I can't explain what happened / And I can't erase the things that I've done / No, I can't

HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO MEEEE

- Untitled, Simple Plan

GIF to describe writing session:

also

and

Excerpt:

...love is murderous.

ya.

But she insists she fine, she’s not going to fall, she’s going to be alright, she’s going to be alright. Except, she isn’t alright.

ugh me

fun fact about the scene where this line comes from: it’s written in 2nd person. Very fitting, though I’m interested to re-visit it when I’m in a better headspace!

“Goddammit Loner, what the hell are you hiding on here to need a fucking industrial strength password…”

yeah lets just blame all of this on Loner, stupid Loner.

(Have I mentioned Ris’ nickname for Lonan is Loner? I’m a terrible person.)

(Poor boy.)

r u ready for the first drop of the Loner bomb in book two.

(I wrote this two years ago and it's better than my writing now :'))

“You’re not gonna touch her again, okay Loner? If you pull something like what you did to her before this, if you try anything, I will personally beat the living fuck out of you.”

alrighty then there Harrison y’all can chill out yanno...

(this was from antagonist loner days lmao that lasted as long as my ability to craft a good sentence ha rip)

first loner bomb from Ris in book three:

“I’m pretty sure tracking Loner down isn’t going to fix any of this.” Harrison mutters, not bothering to hide the scowl when he hits Loner.

this is from the anti-hero days.

first loner bomb from Ris in book four:

“Leave Loner and the girl, we don’t have time,” Harrison says when he crooks open the door and steps out onto the asphalt that’s been tinged with blue under the moonlight.

whats with this lengthy ass sentence fam bruh ok

first loner bomb from Ris in book five:

“Loner’s weird like that.”

BUT ALSO THE SECOND LONER DROP FROM RIS IS THE BEST:

“You shoot my dog, and I will literally murder you with my bare fucking hands. Don’t test me, Loner.”

I will also murder you (AND I CAN DO THAT COZ WRITERZ) with him if you even touch that beautiful dog, you dunce.

Harrison loves his dog. June (the dog) loves Harrison. Very great relationship going on there.

I don't do animal cruelty. No. Leave. NOT OKAY.

first loner drop in book five ever is literally so sad and funny:

Hey, Lonan. Just want to apologize for maybe making you feel… Er… Well, like a loner…

The second one is angsty because Loner himself says it:

“Yeah, but… The people who raised you—the people you grew up knowing as your family aren’t here anymore. Sometimes I forget how… Lonely that must be.” “Go figures… I am Loner…”

rip loner 2k17

lonerrrrrrrrrrr

I actually think @sarahkelsiwrites was the one who came up with this Loner thing. Thank her.

I love the name Lonan in all honesty, I genuinely do. And its meaning gives me so much life. If he didn't take it, I’d hold onto it.

So this writing update cheered me up. Seriously, don’t worry about me, I’ll spring back. This is more comical to me, if anything, LOL, and these angsty af posts are where I share that.

You guys are genuinely the best, and I thank you for all the support you give me! These are hilarious to read in the future, so hopefully my *melodramatic* misery was somewhat entertaining to you. :)

Thanks for reading! I’ll see you tomorrow. (pls)

--Rachel

[it-s-gone-blue]

I'm sending you a ship too and it's FiNer! c:

Yeeee  >:D Thank you for the ask! @greywardenfinas

Universe w vampire Finas and hunter Abner, also poly!Casfin, as canon-y i can imagine it. (But we're p far from canon w FiNer but just go w it)

Who said “I love you” first

Abner, actually. Finas would be absoultely fine, if quietly a little disappointed, if they were in a sorta steady relationship and it never was said. He wouldn't say it, afraid it'd make Abner freak out abt the whole vampire hunter and a vampire thing, make him realize how badly he's doing the 'kill all vampires' thing and end it. Finas just wants it to last longer bc he enjoys Abner, bc hedonist. 

Abner knows he's doing badly, but Finas made himself the exception to the rule (and begrudgingly casimiro, as long as he doesn't see him actively murder someone.)

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Casimiro took Finas' phone. Took a candid picture of Abner and set it as his background. Finas is like, Cas, stop messing w my stuff? but he doesnt change it. Casimiro loves making jabs at Finas being a sap, whether it's abt him or Abner.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Neither, really. But there's a little whiteboard on Abner's fridge for Caring Reminders. "Eat food not just coffee." "Remember to use sunscreen"

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

Finas has no qualms abt giving away gifts. You get a gift, you get a gift, YOU get a gift. Just what he does when he likes someone. He doesn't like that many people, so they end up getting a lot of gifts. It's a bit more of a deal for Abner, he'd probably ask Finas to stop giving him gifts so often, or at least cheaper ones.

Who initiated the first kiss

Finas. They were both in this state of 'should i? i shouldn't. but i should. but not. yes. no.' but Abner was SO DEEP in that, so when Finas leaned in he was kinda stuck in the headlights, but he initiated the second one just after that one. If it was gonna happen, it'd have to be Finas, bc Abner wouldn't be able to make up his mind.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Abner is absolutely miserable waking up, doesn't wanna do it. He's going to, but he doesn't have to be happy about it. Finas turns off his alarm before it goes off and wakes him up w slow kisses on his cheeks or forehead. He's less miserable then.  

Who starts tickle fights

How dare? They are entirely respectable gentlemen. They don't tickle fight. They also both have stiff muscles in their backs and shoulders from activities and not stretching enough before working out so they occasionally massages the other to work out the knots. If they happen to find a ticklish area so be it.  There's just a knot there sit still I gotta loose this knot in your side I swear STOP RUNNING it's for your benefit

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

Abner asks Finas if he wants to join him, he's just abt to shower and Finas' gonna shower after him, he could just shower w him. be time efficient. cough. totes.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

Finas would drop by Abner's workplace in the evening once it got dark w a thermos of coffee. He's tried cooking exactly one time in the last century, and they got food poisoning. But he makes a mean coffee after a while.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

Both were nervous but it didn't look like it. Finas has mastery in composure, Abner makes all the effort to seem Xtremely Collected. Unless either got flustered it wouldn't show. (Abner was easily flustered. Finas thought it was endearing)

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Abner kills them, then checks for more. Finas throws them out if it's not too much effort. Otherwise he also kills them.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

So one time Finas got drunk with Cas and went. 

You know who's great? While looking all in awe at Cas and also taking his handWho is great? Casimiro is already grinning and feeling the love. Abner is great. He said he loved me. Casimiro's face just falls like. Ok. I guess. But I'm pretty great too right? Abner is great Casimiro calls Abner up and let's him listen in on the Abner appreciation hour. Mostly to embarrass them bc drunk smitten Finas is hilarious. Finas takes the phone and goes Abner you're so good looking and I've had a little to drink ah Cas he said I'm good looking too !!! And then it's like. Finas you know I'm thrilled abt you getting a life and all but I'd appreciate if you didn't try to fuck me while talking abt Abner

Finas has five hangovers.

Also. Abner sometimes drinks to cope with, yanno, anxieties and being hypervigilant and paranoia abt diseases and vampires, and if Finas happens to be around him at that time he doesn't really loudly proclaim his love as much as quietly acknowledge and affirm it's there. Says he doesn't care he feels like a failed hunter sometimes bc he's worth it, which makes Finas' heart ache a lot.