#there are so many scenes i want to write.....

[jensthwa]

a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.

PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!

WORD COUNT: 7k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?

NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 25th 2024.

Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget. 

He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.

Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority. 

Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever. 

And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him. 

And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound. 

He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house. 

Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them. 

The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years. 

The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek. 

You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another. 

He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street. 

Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.

“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly. 

He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.” 

“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.” 

You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them. 

“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away. 

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love. 

He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…

“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.” 

He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment. 

His friend was a very proud but not that  out gay man. 

But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway. 

“Good luck with that, love.” 

“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!” 

The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him. 

Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even. 

He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.

Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi. 

Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all. 

School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either. 

“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.” 

“You said you felt he was not the one.” 

Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?” 

“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.” 

You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone. 

He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well. 

He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go. 

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in. 

That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it. 

The noise quieting down, that is. 

Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.

Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect. 

He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you. 

And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth. 

“Shit, shit. Security!”

You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it. 

“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?” 

No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart. 

Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life. 

Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you. 

You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you. 

Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship. 

He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back! 

And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you. 

“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?” 

No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it. 

“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.” 

He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.

“She probably doesn't feel the same.” 

“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.” 

Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move. 

He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him. 

His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long. 

And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present. 

They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two. 

Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily. 

You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it. 

“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?” 

“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.” 

“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.” 

You pout “That's like… A lifetime.” 

“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.” 

He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes. 

Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.” 

Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!” 

“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm. 

You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room. 

“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.” 

“My eyes are literally closed!” 

He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway. 

You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct: 

“Look up and open your eyes.” 

Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks. 

“Love… That's so chees—” 

“Just kiss me, you idiot.” 

And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him. 

“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.” 

“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling. 

“Sit on the floor.”

He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.

Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!” 

There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets. 

“This is beautiful, love…” 

He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts. 

There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs. 

The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum. 

“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!” 

He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?” 

“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.

You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card. 

“Before you open it, let me read this to you.” 

“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction. 

“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um… 

“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.” 

When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks. 

“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart. 

Kind of. 

When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.

The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace. 

With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis. 

The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.

“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—” 

“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears. 

“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't even know what to say. 

“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back. 

“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?” 

“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up. 

He points his finger at you “Wait here.” 

And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat. 

It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately. 

“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”

It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart. 

Just like you hold his heart. 

“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.” 

You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger. 

“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—” 

He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him. 

“Shit, hold on—” 

“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor. 

“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?” 

“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.

“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck. 

“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again. 

“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went. 

There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his. 

You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like. 

Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared. 

Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit. 

He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him. 

He moans pathetically. 

You smile at the sound. 

“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail. 

“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone. 

“With the necklace on?” 

“And the sweater.” 

He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression. 

He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh. 

“Where did you learn this kink, love?” 

“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…” 

“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips. 

“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?” 

He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”

“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want. 

“Used her to get off?” 

You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours. 

“Is that what you want me to do with you?” 

“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”

Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want. 

Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return. 

Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you. 

He also knows you enjoy this. 

The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal. 

A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud. 

“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?” 

You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine. 

“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?” 

Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another. 

And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home. 

So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there. 

You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then. 

Today, there’s not enough time. 

So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin. 

You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.

He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him. 

If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched. 

Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room. 

And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well. 

He remembers he doesn't have much time. 

And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue. 

He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going? 

You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling. 

You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.

“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!” 

Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace. 

“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.

He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval. 

“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.” 

You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now? 

With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you? 

He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—

“Oh— fuck.” 

His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before. 

“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.” 

He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up. 

And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully. 

No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum. 

He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately. 

“That was…” 

“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.” 

He gasps in feign offense. 

“Stop projecting, love.” 

“Am not—”

“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you. 

You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back. 

“I want to marry you, Y/N.” 

He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes. 

“Now?” 

He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.” 

“Good thing you got my ring size right.” 

Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him. 

“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again.  “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.” 

You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.

“I don’t want it any other way, love.” 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[writersrkive]

Light | Aaron Hotchner

summary: since a few days ago, you have been distracted. Something about the holidays and Christmas is triggering to you. Apparently, the team doesn't notice this, but your boss, of course, does. He is troubled, but when you say that you are sick on Christmas Eve, right before dinner, he is ready to go with you and keep you company. He also appears with a small gift that can cheer you up.

genre: angst, hurt, comfort.

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!gn!reader

warning: holidays and Christmas being a nostalgic/sad holiday to reader, mention of reader not being from Virginia, family issues (reader), reader is new member of the team, allusion of an age gap (not specific), reader being called "kid" two or three times.

a/n: so... maybe I projected myself a bit into this fic. I hope whoever feels like the main character feels some comfort and understanding here. I'm sorry if there's anything wrong with the writing, I haven't edited yet, but I wanted it posted before Christmas (it's 11pm in my country). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3. Merry Christmas reader, thank you for being here one more year! I'm proud of you.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Christmas isn't what it was a few years ago, but neither was your family. When you decided to move to Virginia, far from home, it was hard for you because despite having a broken family, the feeling of wanting to fix everything for everyone was still there. The holidays, especially Christmas, brought back memories of when everything was fine —or so it seemed—.

The dynamic of the team was like a family, but as the newest member —and one of the youngest— it was hard to feel completely into it. However, you didn't feel as isolated as you did at first. So, they didn't notice how nostalgic and sad your aura was the days before.

Oh, but Aaron, your boss, did.

It started the day that some workmates decorated the office with a mini Christmas tree, lights and bows. Everyone was heading home, except him, as usual. The paper work ended so the stoic man was closing the door of his office when he noticed the way you were standing in front of the tree, almost giving him your back. He could see half of the profile he caught himself admiring often. The lights were reflected in the sad look similar to that of a child hoping to obtain something impossible.

“Why are you still here?” He asked, not scolding, but rather with curiosity.

“Oh, good night Hotch. I was finishing some paperwork.” Your expression showed that you had come out of a trance.

“Are you done?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Maybe we can walk to our cars together.”

“Sure.”

He didn't try to make small talk. The feeling of tiredness was in the air, but he also felt that he shouldn't try to break down any kind of personal barrier that you had at that moment. Because despite showing a friendly smile, it was obvious that your mind was somewhere else.

Then, a few days later, you were distracted by something peculiar.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked when he noticed that you weren't listening to his theories. Hotch was talking to a police officer, but he was looking at the way your workmate and you were analyzing the crime scene. “Are you cold?” His teasing smile made you chuckle slightly.

“Yeah. I still haven't gotten used to the weather, sorry.” The lie went unnoticed by your colleague. They were profilers, but you were one too, so it was kind of easy to fake certain things. It wasn't right, but at that time of the year you just wanted to survive. Besides, you couldn't tell them anything, not because you didn't trust them, but because it was too much to handle.

Across the street, Aaron looked in the direction you were looking before Derek spoke to you. It was a park a few blocks away. There was an ice rink, giant decorations, and lots of families gathered around. What could that place have to distract you so much?

There were many other occasions like that. The last time was on Christmas Eve. Months ago, Penelope had decided to buy an instant camera to take photos of the team inside and outside of work, when they had days off.

“Here it is, my beautiful fellas!” The blonde said excitedly. “Your handmade Christmas gift!”

She made all of you sit around the table, so she could put in the center the sparkling red notebook, with silver letters. 'Memories at the BAU' could be read.

“Garcia! It's so beautiful!” Emily said, smiling. Derek hugged his friend in appreciation and JJ got closer to Emily so she could see better.

“Look at that. Always a great time for pasta.” Rossi joked looking at one of the pictures where he could be seen making pasta for dinner after a heavy case.

“Always looking good.” Derek said pointing at a picture of him posing with one of the plushies García had at her office.

“Look at us! But why do you look so sad?” JJ joked looking at a group photo. You could be seen at the back with a forced smile.

“I was a little tired, sorry.” You answered, but the reality was that you had received some messages from your family minutes before that photo was taken.

“Hey, why did you take a photo of me taking a nap?” The confused tone in Spencer's voice made you laugh a little, but Aaron noticed the way your eyes didn't light up.

“Does anyone know where our newest member is?” Derek asked, smiling. He can't help but remember the way Emily, JJ and he teased you before. You started to get late to a few compromises —it happened at work once or twice—, but your boss didn't scold you like he would scold anyone else on the team. “He has a soft spot for someone.” Derek playfully twitched that time, thinking the bags under your eyes weren't caused by anything but work —he was wrong—.

“The kid just sent a message to the group chat.” Rossi announced.

“Sick?” Penelope showed her worry, reading your message.

Aaron felt a weird pinch on the chest. He immediately got even more worried than everyone in Rossi's house, even if his face just tensed a little bit more than usual. In his mind he debated whether to go with you to make sure you were okay, even though it might be intrusive.

Maybe you needed space….

Or maybe there was something else you weren't telling them, just like he noticed before.

“Am… I think I'm a little bit sick too.” He whispered after a while.

“What? We are about to eat dinner.” Emily said a little sad. She was worried about the team's health now that Aaron and you were sick.

“I'll be fine. I'm going to take some food with me in case I get hungry later." His movements were a little fast, as if in a hurry.

“Are you sure you don't need a medic, Aaron?” His old friend said and the boss could sense a little teasing in his tone.

“I'm good, I just need to go right now. I'll see you tomorrow. Everyone, please be safe.” The team could sense sincerity in those words when he gave them one last look, after he took the food, his jacket and his keys, and before stepping out of the house.

“Kid is gonna have some company.” Derek teased and everyone, including Reid, smiled knowing what was going on.

Both of you were surprised when you opened the door. He didn't expect to see you with red puffy eyes and nose, and you didn't expect him there, in front of your house, holding some tuppers with food and something else tangled in his arms.

“Hotch?” Your furrowed eyebrows and tilted head made his chest feel warm. You looked confused and also cute. He felt a little bad to think like that when something was wrong with you.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” That's all he said.

“Oh… Am… I'm just a little…”

“Sick? I don't think so. You have been acting weird, and Christmas has something to do with that. I know because apparently it triggers something that makes you… sad.” His voice was soft. It felt like he didn't want to expose you, but he needed to show how much he knew about the situation. “I don't think you actually fool them. At least, not now. Maybe in the beginning, but that wasn't my case.” But you did feel exposed, even a little ashamed. The lack of movement told Hotch that you were uncomfortable. “I'm sorry…”

“It's okay. I guess it's impossible to fool S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner.” You showed a sad smile, it was more like a grin. “Wait, what about Jack?”

“He's with his aunt. They were on a trip I couldn't join because of obvious reasons. I guess we can keep each other company.” Little by little he had begun to show a smile that was contagious to you.

“Sure.”

When he walked in he noticed the lack of decorations on the surroundings. There was just a small tree at the back of a hall. It had a start at the top and had some lights and spheres. That was it.

“I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive, but can I ask what's wrong?” he asked when you started to help him to put the food on two plates.

You sighted thinking about all the things you needed to explain so you could give him an answer. “It's complicated. I don't know if I wanna talk about that.”

“That's okay. Then, can you tell me how you are feeling?”

You smiled, knowing he changed the question so as not to make you feel uncomfortable, while still keeping in mind the fact that he needed to know how you were feeling. “Everything brings memories. I'm supposed to be with my family, but what family?” I asked, sitting next to him in the kitchen. “Sometimes I wish things were like before, like having a time machine and just going there: where everyone was. Now I know how heavy the family issues were, but I was a kid so at least I was living in a lie… a good lie.”

“I know family is complicated. There's people who hurt other people, and that's not right, but there's too much.”

“Exactly…”

“But you have a family here too, now.” He whispered. And the way he looked at you made you feel like you weren't alone, at least not how you have thought.

“That's why I bring Rossi's lasagna with me. He's gonna be sad if you don't get to try it.”

Dinner was good. Of course you loved Rossi's cooking, but you came to the conclusion that it was because of the company of your boss. He helped a lot by distracting you, chatting about Jack, some plans outside of work and various things. After a few hours you couldn't handle your curiosity anymore.

“Hotch, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?” Apparently, your question took him by surprise, perhaps it was the tone in which you spoke to him, almost tenderly.

“What is that?” You pointed at what he left coiled up on the armrest of one of the sofas in your living room. It looked like a silver wire with transparent stuff on it.

“These are Jack's favorite lights. We bought it a few years ago. He loved them until we bought a set of identical, larger lights. Do you want to see?”

“Yes!” Your childish tone made him smile.

He untangled the lights and plugged them into the nearest socket, quickly his hands and the place where the lights rested shone brightly.

“Wow…” It was almost a whisper, but Aaron enjoyed the answer as if it was a shout of joy. “These are beautiful.”

“I knew you liked the lights.”

“Huh? Oh! You mean the night when you caught me staring at the…”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yeah, I liked lights. I think I've always liked them, but at some point the feeling became sad."

“They are for you.”

“No, but, Jack…”

“Like I said, he has new ones, so, there's no problem. He will love that you have them.”

“Can you help me to…” You hesitated.

“Sure. Let's go, where do you want them?”

A fun playlist invaded your house. While Hotch held a ladder and watched your back to see if you lost your balance, you placed the string of lights in the living room window.

“Can you turn them on?” You asked him gently. The decorated window came to life as did your eyes and Aaron couldn't feel calmer as he admired your excited countenance.

“I'm glad you liked them.”

Suddenly, cries of excitement were heard from neighboring houses and some Christmas songs began to play from the speakers of nearby restaurants even louder.

“Merry Christmas, Hotch.” You said when you came down from the ladder. The man who came to brighten your night didn't think that seeing your expression would fill his chest with warmth.

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

You definitely didn't know or would have imagined that the man who watched your back at work was what you needed to feel better. He brought the light you needed for days.

[minswriting]

idk if you’ve watched you but im rewatching it and it makes me feel things and since im a HUGE fan of perv!spencer i was wondering if you could write something based off on that scene where joe is jerking off while watching beck touch herself after her hookup doesnt make her finish also if you’re not familiar with the show this scene is right in the first ep ill be thriving if you write something like this ty sm 🥺

i have not watched it at all but i’m gonna write this without watching it because i have thoughts lol

nsfw | mdni | mutual masturbation | friends that get off together stay together | squirting

after your failed hookup, you had gone to spencer’s apartment to make yourself feel better emotionally. he was your best friend so of course he was legally required to listen to you vent. what you hadn’t expected was for the situation to lead to something more.

“and he didn’t even make me cum!” you ranted to spencer, laying back on his bed all frustrated.

spencer was sat in his desk chair, facing you. “d-do you- uh do you want to?” he stuttered, clearing his throat.

you sat back up, looking at spencer with a confused look. “what do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head.

“do you want to uh- cum?” he asked, licking his lips and rubbing his palms on his pants.

“well obviously, that’s why i tried to have a hookup,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“show me,” spencer said hoarsely.

“what?” you asked.

“show me how you’d make yourself cum.” spencer said confidently. and god, the way he said it had you clenching your thighs. maybe you’re just that sexually frustrated that the smallest things could turn you on. or maybe it was the underlining attraction you’ve had for spencer for many years that you’ve never once dared to acknowledge. but right now? you most certainly weren’t going to say no.

which is what led to you being on spencer’s bed, naked, sprawled out on display for him to see as you had a hand between your thighs. you gently rubbed your clit, trying not to make any noises due to the slight embarrassment. you and spencer were crossing a territory that you had never crossed before. but him? spencer was thoroughly enjoying the view.

“did he know where to pleasure you?” spencer asked, voice heavy. you shyly shook your head no. spencer cleared his throat. “use your words.”

that soft command caused you to let out a soft moan. you shook your head again. “n-no he didn’t.” you replied softly.

spencer let out a soft noise, palming himself through his pants. “do you mind?” he asked, swallowing, signaling to jerking himself off.

you didn’t mind at all. this situation was new…foreign…and yet you couldn’t deny the intensity of the situation. hormones are high. “i don’t mind,” you replied, licking your lips.

and so, spencer fumbled with his pants zipper as he undid them, pulling them down enough to reveal his cock. you couldn’t help yourself from noticing the difference between him and the guy you slept with. spencer was a few inches bigger. you dipped your fingers into your cunt, fingering yourself.

spencer watched you as you watched him. the two of you getting off to each other. he began jerking himself off, thumbing the tip of his cock with each pump of his hand. his movements were slow, following the movements of your fingers inside of you.

no words were spoken between either of you. but as the time went, both of you moved your hands faster. the sounds you let out was absolutely heavenly in spencer’s ears. in this moment, he was extremely grateful for his eidetic memory as he took in your look. the reddening of your cheeks, your hair sprawled out on his pillow, the way your pussy was glistening, the sounds your fingers made as they moved inside of you. spencer will gladly be jerking off to this image of you whenever he can.

and when you started breathing heavily and arching your back, spencer knew you were very close. the way your body tensed and thighs started shaking. god, he wanted to fuck you. to be the one to make you feel good. but what was really the cherry on top? the way you moaned out “spencer!” in that whiny tone as you came, your juices spilling out of you as you did so, landing on his bed. and he immediately came with a louder than intended moan, painting his clothed chest with ropes of cum.

after that, it was safe to say your friendship wasn’t the same. because two days later, you showed up at spencer’s door and rode him on his couch like he was nothing but a toy for you to get off on. and he absolutely adored it.

[frannyzooey]

You, and this fic, own me.

This chapter had so much to give!!! I thought it was going to be pure filth and then you hit me with that ending, and I am fucking yearning for these two so goddamn bad (while also being so out of my mind aroused --)

There were so, so many good parts in this one, like the way my mouth fucking dropped open at this:

“Just another reason that maybe you should be inside that church, rather than suckin’ dick in its parking lot."

and THIS:

And so help you god, he’s wearing his tool belt. 

But THIS -- this took the fuckin' cake:

“Then play ‘house’ with me,” you purr, dragging your fingers through his hair. “You can be daddy,” you stroke down his cheek, over his lips, “I can be mommy. And you can try and put a baby in me.”

I was literally levitating at this line. ROCKETING TOWARDS THE MOON!! I was also so in love with how light and free and fun their fucking and teasing was -- the way they just slide into role play like it's no goddamn thing had me grinning ear to ear

Annnnnnnnnd then you hit me with the emotions:

The discordance stirs in your stomach. Right now, you’re actually witnessing the loving-husband-turned-infidel façade weave its way through his marriage. He’s asking her to leave…for you. To free up time to be with you. Under the guise of caring for her. 

You wish it made you feel worse. It just feels…uncomfortable to actually view firsthand.

I literally cannot even imagine what it would feel like to witness the deception happening first hand, and it's something that a lot of cheating fics don't explore? (and I should know 😌)...the way you treated this scene was literal perfection because you brought so much nuance to his emotions. He's being deceptive, but not a manipulative gross creep like this situation is often portrayed. He genuinely hurts....yet does it anyway. I'm obsessed with this scene because you're doing such a good job extending Joel, as a man, the same grace that people often give to the reader in these types of stories. They empathize with the reader feeling bad but doing it anyway, but they often villainize the man, or assume he doesn't feel as bad, ya know? Anyway, just me waxing on about your beautiful brain ❤️

I had all these amazing thoughts about your writing skills....and then they all leaked from my brain when I read this:

You: Yours is the only mouth I want sucking on these titties right now, daddy 👅

You fix your sweater and peer back through your peephole, just to see his face collapse in arousal, grinding the heel of his palm over the crotch of his jeans.

I know the desk fucking scene was so taboo and so filthy, but I felt so, so fucking soft when he said this:

setting the frame down in front of you before yanking your hair at the root and slamming his hand down next to the photo. “You stare at that girl while daddy’s tearin’ apart your slutty little asshole. Remind her that she deserves better than that piece a’shit.”

I live for this line 😭😭

And then this -- this -- was perfection:

“Baby,” he takes your face in his hands again, his expression edging on broken. On your behalf. “What has this fuckin’ monster done to you? My girl from the bar, she knew what she was fuckin’ worth. And she’d let you know it. She came first, and she didn’t apologize for it or accept anything less. What did he do to that fuckin’ girl?”

“Maybe it wasn’t all him."

I could literally envision the look on his face when she said that. What a fucking LINE, Katy and then to have it followed with her speech about how Jack isn't a monster, he's just a man??

The way you are out here giving the depth to this trope that it needs has me SAT and quite frankly, green with envy

This chapter was so fucking good 💀💀💀 ily ❤️

Good Neighbors | (joel miller x f!reader) (18+)

Part Three of Four

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧A fic inspired by Fortnight by Taylor Swift✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧

Part One | Part Two

summary: your affair with joel heats up with a week of uninterrupted bliss. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no outbreak!au, age gap (joel is 48, reader is 32), joel x ofc (no sexual content), reader x omc (pitiful sexual content), infidelity, daddy!kink, fingering, unprotected PIV, unprotected anal, oral (m! and f!receiving), degradation!kink, praise!kink, brief roleplaying, unashamed sexualization of the term "kiddo", discussions of SA and domestic abuse, marital discussions regarding mismatched desires on having children, reader struggles with body image as a result of her abusive husband, unhealthy/toxic age gap marriage. this chapter is a much needed break from Jack. immersion notes: reader has hair, wears dresses/makeup, and is considered a "trophy wife" type. additionally, reader is specifically implied to be conventionally thin. apologies to anyone for whom this kills immersion for, but it felt very necessary in the context of the story. word count: ~11.6k a/n: wanted to give the lovebirds a little part that's primarily fun times before shit hits the fan <3 So there will be one more chapter!

Available Only to Registered Users on AO3

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Crossing The Line

(Art Credits @penpapernaiad on X/Twitter- https://x.com/penpapernaiad/status/1866626496410103905)

Caitlyn Kiramman X Vi Lanes 18+

Summary: After an intense race, Violet confronts Caitlyn about the end controversy which leads to both women discovering something about their relationship and finding a mutual way to take their frustrations out.

Word Count: 4.6k | Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Realisations, Explicit Smut, F1 inspired Fic, Experienced Mercedes Racer Caitlyn/Rookie Red Bull Racer Vi, Top Vi/Bottom Caitlyn, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Brief Praise, Implied Switch but Dom Vi, Begging

A/N- This fic is inspired by the amazing F1 fanart of CaitVi on Twitter and I know absolutely nothing about F1 so apologies just in case some things are incorrect. Also, this is the first time I’ve written something that isn’t a Character X Reader so apologies if it’s a bit weird as I’m not used to not writing something that’s not second person.

---

The sound of engines warming up rumbled around the track, the drivers making their way over to their respective cars to prepare themselves for the race as the crowd cheered in excitement at what was about to happen, the past few races being some of the most competitive of the last few years as new drivers entered the scene, adding their own personal flare that livened up the sport.  

Caitlyn Kiramman, renowned champion and title holder stepped out into driver’s zone, her usual cold, composed and focussed manner on display for all to see as she strided over to where she was needed, her figure radiating dominance and authority as many paused to simply admire her professionalism. Heads turned nearly every time she walked past, the confidence in her form for everyone to admire as she stepped past the McLaren team, offering a polite nod to their technical director before continuing, her blue eyes drifting over to the next racing team, her gaze inevitably wandering to where a certain Red Bull racer was. 

To say things were tense between the world title holder and the new rookie on the block, Vi Lanes, would be a severe understatement, the two of them constantly clashing in every race as the latter’s reckless and rash driving manner was something Caitlyn was not fond of, finding the lack of consistency and accuracy to be a flaw rather than something to admire as she knew the rookies luck would have to come to an end soon. For the fans, this sudden and profound rivalry was something to rave about, the crowd already in anticipation as they saw on the screens the two drivers lock eyes from across the zone, a sudden tension filling the air as the composed, icy blue met the charming and playful glint in the Zaunite’s eyes, cheers surrounding the area as the gaze was held, neither one of the women wanting to back down. 

A smirk graced Vi’s lips as she tried to subtly provoke the blue haired woman, leaning back casually against her car as she zipped up her suit, catching the way the Piltie’s eyes flickered down to the fabric pooled around her waist, Vander, Vi’s director, telling her it was time to actually start focussing. Well, almost as the rookie still had some feathers to ruffle.

“Hey Kiramman,” Vi called out once the other woman had looked away, gaining her attention once more as she simply raised her perfect brow up in a questioning manner, her face impassive whilst she waited. “Keep your eyes on the road this time cupcake , wouldn’t want you to get distracted like last time,” she teased after having just stolen the win in the last race, taking her vibrant red helmet off the top of the car, her amused expression growing at the way she saw the subtle clench of Caitlyn’s jaw, observing how her posture tightened that little bit more as the words settled in the champion. 

“See you on the track, Lanes,” was all Caitlyn replied, keeping her response level headed and calm, doing her best to ignore the playful remark and get back to focusing on the upcoming race, wanting to wipe that smug smile off Vi’s face. 

***

Adrenaline pumped through Vi’s entire being as she kept her eyes trained on the Mercedes in front of her, following behind as close as she physically could, waiting to pounce and steal first place from whatever opening the champion would offer her. However, waiting for the perfectionist that was Caitlyn Kiramman to make a mistake was practically pointless, the woman’s consistency on every corner rather infuriating to the Zaunite as she entered the final corner of the penultimate lap a little roughly, braking later to try and gain fractions of a second on her.

“Fuck, come on Cait, give me something,” She muttered to herself, eyes sparkling with a little hope but also eagerness to find something, anything to use to try and improve her position as second wasn’t good enough for Vi anymore, she was here to prove a point. 

There was also an odd burning desire within her to beat Caitlyn, the tension that brewed between them something more, something that festered deep inside them both and made it seem all the more private and intense. 

The anticipation and excitement bubbled with every move the drivers took as they sped through the first and second corners of the final lap, a hint of unfamiliar nerves growing in the pit of Caitlyn's stomach as she spotted how close Vi was to the back of her, the feeling odd to her as she wasn’t so sure as to why the other woman managed to get under her skin so easily, something inside urging her to somehow do more to ensure she would win, the rivalry being something more personal to her than simply holding onto her infamous Kiramman legacy. 

The nerves only grew as they passed another section of the track, Jayce communicating through the radio to Caitlyn about how Vi had seemed to rather impossibly shave off a little more time, the front of the Red Bull's tyres in line with the back of the Mercedes as they sped along the straight stretch, ready to entire the final corners. 

Determination was evident in both women’s eyes but a sudden glint of light flashed in Vi’s eyes as a minute opening revealed itself to her, the red car launching into the corner recklessly as she tried to squeeze passed, the two cars nearly clipping as the Mercedes had to just about dodge the collision, gasps erupting around the track.

It was almost as though everyone was holding their breath as the two cars lined up practically side by side, both trying to get the edge on the other woman as the cars turned sharply, another rash and bold idea swiftly entering Vi’s mind as she tested the ability of the world champion on the final turn. 

Spotting the hasty move, Caitlyn responded instantly by blocking the overambitious attempt, defending her lead in a manner that had the commentators in awe as they watched the rest of the race unfold, a few protests from some at the way the Mercedes blocked the car off, finding it rather controversial at how the Red bull had to brake harshly to prevent the car smashing into the barriers.  A stream of curses and angered words spilt from Vi’s lips as she had to watch helplessly as the Kiramman sigil on the back of the leading car grew smaller in the distance, crossing the line whilst the checkered flag signalled their victory. As she claimed second place, Vi’s blue eyes followed the way the woman in front of her waved to the crowd, celebrating her win proudly, brewing something undecipherable and intense within her as she needed to find a way to express her anger, feeling as though it was an unfair end to the race, Vander attempting to soothe her and express how impressive second still was but the words fell on deaf ears, Vi’s mind focused on one thing.

This wasn’t over yet. 

***

“What the fuck was that?” Vi snapped as soon as she could find a moment with Caitlyn away from the press and media, her helmet being dropped onto the table as she followed the winner into her private lounge, wanting to confront her and find some sort of way to get rid of this strange, bottled up sensation within her. 

“Excuse me?” Caitlyn’s tone expressed her distaste for the way she was being spoken to, the door being shut by Vi as the blue haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, exuding a fierceness that seemed to only just ignite the anger Vi was experiencing as she took in how the Mercedes’ driver looked after the race, a little taken aback by how perfect and flawless she still looked.

“Oh come on, you know exactly what. You nearly sent me into the barriers, that should have been a penalty,” Vi accused, earning a simply scoff in response, an anger starting to build in the pit of Caitlyn’s stomach at the tense encounter, the way Vi stepped closer to her, her usually charming blue filled with nothing but passion and something undecipherable. The blue haired woman simply smiled in almost disbelief as she shook her head at the other woman’s antics, her hands moving to slick her hair back, feeling the sweat that had built up from under her helmet as she smoothed out her perfect locks, catching the attention of Vi as she couldn’t help but look at the way her long, slender digits moved through her hair. 

“God, you’re so predictable,” She muttered out, her head tilting in a slightly condescending manner as she took in the way the pink haired woman’s brows furrowed slightly, taken aback at what was being said. “You drive recklessly but it’s my fault you lost!” Caitlyn’s tone was laced with an underlying annoyance, as though she was irritated by the Zaunite’s driving style for another reason other than how difficult it was to race against, finding it unsafe for her but also Vi. 

“ Predictable ?” Violet’s voice was dripping with offense, her arm moving in the air slightly to exaggerate her point as she spoke, the gesture not going unnoticed as Caitlyn watched the way her arms flexed subtly through the suit, an odd heat settling at her core as she listened to the rant leaving her lips. “I am not predictable,” she huffed out, her entire style based on the principle that she was bold and unpredictable, no one knowing how to race against or challenge her, it was the sole reason Red bull took a chance on her. “And I only lost because you cut me off, we both know I had you on that corner otherwise,” she argued, taking another step closer to her as Cait’s gaze hardened, the way her ice blue eyes were staring into Vi’s soul making her heart flutter strangely, a shiver running down her spine at the way dominance just seemed to suddenly ooze off the Piltovan. 

“I was defending my lead,” She coldly replied, standing up a little straighter and reminding the two of them of the slight height difference, Vi refusing to back down as she stood before her. “It was perfectly legal and you know it, maybe you should have been keeping your ‘eyes on the road’ to notice that I was defending,” she taunted, throwing back Vi’s teasing remark back in her face, a mocking laugh falling from her lips as she chuckled out in disbelief at her words. 

“And you say I’m the one that’s predictable? I should have know that you wouldn’t never be able to believe you were actually in the wrong for once,” Vi muttered in a snarky manner, the tense eye contact seeming to affect both women as the bubbling of heat within them both grew, eyes seeming to subconsciously flicker down to each other’s lips, insatiably drawn to one another. 

“I can accept it,” Cait starts off after snapping out of the small trance of staring at the other woman’s lips, imagining the way they felt as she spotted the small scar against her top lip, her mind wandering down the wrong path as she pictured how plump they would feel against hers, her head shaking to rid the thoughts from her head as she continued, “But I wasn’t in the wrong today, that was you trying to squeeze through a gap that wasn’t there as usual!

“As usual?” Vi snapped back but before she could get another word out, Caitlyn cut her off, not wanting to hear her try and argue something that was clearly true. 

“Oh come on Violet , we all know it!” The words that leave Cait’s lips takes Vi back, the use of her full name triggering something within her, her heart beating that little bit faster as heat courses through her body, the overpowering feeling of arousal confusing her momentarily. “You try something rash and stupid and pray it pays off, I warned you when we first met that it wouldn’t pay off in this league but you didn’t listen,” underneath the irritation in the Piltovan’s tone, there was a hint of something else, Vi’s brows furrowing slightly as Cait continued, seeming to need to get this off her chest.  “You were reckless in the first race and you still are,” she sighs out, a hint of care seeping into her words making everything suddenly click into place in Vi’s mind, a tense silence wrapping around them both. 

Their eyes met once more, the two of them seeming to both realise at the same time why everything felt more intense, felt more personal and significant between them, why it was always more than just a race. The atmosphere around them grew tense as their eyes softened momentarily, searching one another as everything slowly processed in their minds, the feelings that were being uncovered and discovered, the close proximity between them more prominent as they both realised how close they actually were, and the sudden desire to cross a line. 

Naturally, Vi made the bold move to lean forwards, her hand cupping Caitlyn’s cheek as they crashed their lips together, a soft moan escaping the latter as she lost herself into the feeling of Vi’s addictive lips, gasping gently into her mouth before leaning back in for more. Both of them closed their eyes as they let themselves drown in the passion of the kiss, hands roaming each others bodies, pulling each other as close as physically possible as bottled up emotions were poured into the kiss, the anger, care and underlying love taking over them both along with lust and desire, their bodies longing and craving one another. 

Sliding her hands down the toned back of Violet, Caitlyn pulled her closer to her, letting her body be trapped between the wall and the other woman as she sighed softly into the kiss, the two of them smiling into it briefly before going back in for more, their fervent lips constantly brushing one another as their bodies felt an electric connection, arousal clouding their minds. Taking control, Caitlyn let her teeth gently bite down on Vi’s lips, earning a low groan from Violet as she felt her tongue soothe over the dull pain she caused, her tongue then sliding into her mouth as their tongues lewdly slid against each other, igniting a newfound desperation within them both as hunger took over their actions. 

Hands messily found their way to Vi’s hair, the Red Bull racer’s hands moving to the opposite woman’s hips, caressing them before letting her hands continue to explore her body, wanting to know what she enjoyed, eager to witness her reactions. The feeling of slender fingers tugging on her hair sent heat pooling between Vi’s thighs, distracting her momentarily before her lips pressed a little harder against Cait’s, moving them to pepper kisses along her jaw, taking a minute to let her thoughts make sense again, the only thing consuming her mind being the blue haired woman. 

Her lips trailed addictive, hot open-mouthed kisses along the soft and creamy skin she could, the feeling of Cait trying to take control of the situation again making her realise how she still was a little annoyed with the other women, deciding she wanted to get revenge back for just missing out on first place. 

“Vi,” she heard the other woman sigh out sinfully, the way her name fell so effortlessly from her lips, wrapped in that delicate British accent, sent waves of arousal crashing through the Zaunite but she tried her best to not let it affect her as she wanted to tease the woman melting in her arms beyond madness, to torment her and get revenge for the race. 

Pulling back from her enticing skin, Vi gazed into Caitlyn’s eyes, getting lost in the way each shade of blue was filled with desire before letting her hands travel up her body to the zip of her racing suit, asking the silent question for permission. The tender action brought a gentle smile to Caitlyn’s lips, the ice queen’s composure slowly crumbling away as she let her eyes flicker between the aroused glint in Vi’s eyes and her fingers tugging down her zipper, taking in how skilful her fingers looked and how she imagined they would feel buried deep inside her. 

Their lips met once more whilst Vi’s fingers slowly pushed the fabric off her shoulders, fingers sliding under the thick protective gear they had to wear to the thinner fabric, her strong hands gripping onto her hips, squeezing in a manner that Caitlyn found intoxicating, fogging her mind with arousal as she tried to dominate the kiss, wanting to have some sort of control as her body slowly succumbed to the other woman’s touch.

The action however simply made Vi smirk into the kiss, the smug expression accompanied by her hands drifting lower in her suit, meeting the waistband of the leggings the Mercedes’ driver wore under the suit, fingers toying with the fabric. 

“Ah, ah,” she hummed out disapprovingly when Caitlyn tried to take control, a teasing and playful tone to it as she ghosted her lips against hers, brushing them delicately before trailing the soft touches to the shell of her ear, wanting to torment the woman pinned against the wall. “You can be the perfect, composed and in control Kiramman on the track but here,” Vi rasped teasingly, teeth gently biting down on Cait’s earlobe, punctuating the end of her words with a kiss to her cheek and fingers drifting closer to the woman’s core, feeling the way her skin was burning and desperate for more, “Here I want to ruin you.” 

“Fuck,” the word escaped Caitlyn before she could stop it, her eyes fluttering open to meet the amused blue of the other woman as she pulled back briefly to engrave the site of Caitlyn Kiramman speechless before her, the glint of dominance in Violet’s eyes making Caitlyn want to squeeze her thighs together but she didn’t, not wanting to give in so easily. A challenging expression crept onto Caitlyn’s face as she lolled her head back against the wall, offering her neck for Violet to kiss down, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin whilst her fingers slid under the waistband of Cait’s leggings, slowly travelling along her searing skin, feeling the way her muscles twitched under her touch.

“Always so confident,” Caitlyn tried to tease, but her voice betrayed her as the words spilt from her lips in a pleased, shaky sigh, her control and composure diminishing with every touch Vi offered her, her body simply craving to let someone else take control for once.

“It’s part of my charm,” Violet chuckles out against her throat, the feeling of her lips pulling up into a smirk making arousal pool between Caitlyn’s thighs, her legs spreading to welcome the other woman’s hand as she drifted over the neatly trimmed hairs there, groaning softly at how wet she already was. “And we both know you love it,” she mumbled out playfully, kissing along Caitlyn’s jaw and encouraging her to lower her head, wanting to watch her reaction to what was about to happen, needing to see the way pleasure etches its way onto her face. 

“Mhmm,” was all Caitlyn could hum back in response, biting down on her lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape her, the way Violet’s fingers felt sliding through her folds effortlessly, gathering the abundance of arousal that was there and using it to circle her clit, making it hard to keep a hold of the last of her self control, the other woman reading the signs of her body and smirking at the attempt to stay quiet. 

A gasp left Caitlyn when Vi skilfully moved her fingers, letting her thumb circle her clit whilst one of her digits slid in easily to her dripping core, a restrained noise desperately trying to leave her lips at the amount of pleasure and heat that consumed her body. The way Violet’s free hand moved up her body to the back of her head, threading through her blue locks and tugging softly also had desire and pleasure clouding her mind, her eyes fluttering open to meet an amused pair of blue eyes gazing at her hungrily before they drifted down to her lips, admiring the way she attempted to stay composed, her fingers digging into the Red bull driver’s suit. 

“Don’t hold back,” Vi whispers before leaning in for a kiss, brushing lips tenderly as she slowly thrusted her finger into her soaking cunt, curling it beautifully against the other woman’s weak spot, her hips grinding down desperately against her hand as sparks of ecstasy shot through her. “I want to hear you scream for me Cait,” Vi further encourages, earring a slightly louder moan that blessed her ears, the sound spurring her on to keep those sinful sounds falling from her lips, needing to hear all the desperate moans, whines and whimpers that she possibly could. 

“Shit, Vi,” Caitlyn groaned out, the combination of her words and the way her fingers expertly slid into her making her body need more, addicted to the pleasure coursing through her veins, the intoxicating manner in which Violet crashed her lips to her, letting passion once again take over them both. 

“That’s it,” Vi praises, smirking into the next kiss as she feels the effect praise has on the other woman, the way her hips bucked against her hand and how she clenched around her digit signalling just how much she loved it, Caitlyn’s head dropping down to hide at Violet’s neck as she basked in the warmth her skin provided momentarily. “You’re so wet, fuck,” Vi mutters almost in disbelief to herself as she adds another finger into Caitlyn’s core, thrusting them both in a manner that had the other woman delirious with the euphoria building in the pit of her stomach, her eyes fluttering open as she looks down, watching the way Vi’s forearm moves with every skilful pump of her fingers. 

“Do that again- Shit , just like that, right there,” Caitlyn moans out, moving one of her hands to rest over Vi’s shoulder, fingers digging into the toned muscle she knew was under the suit whilst the other moved to the collar of the protective gear, grasping onto the fabric so she could pull the other woman back in for a searing kissing, the need to feel her lips against hers more important than anything else. “Don’t stop,” the words fall from her lips in a plea she was a little embarrassed by, the sheer amount of desperation lacing her words something she wasn’t used to, but part of her didn’t care as being filled up by Vi’s fingers just felt so good, her body being pushed towards that familiar edge.

“Are you close?” Vi pants out into a desperate kiss, keeping her pace steady as she felt Caitlyn’s hips buck a little harder against her hand, a sense of urgency seeping into her movements giving away just how much she needed to feel pleasure crash through her. “Yeah?” The cocky tone further aroused Caitlyn as her knuckles started to bleed white at how tight she was gripping onto the back of Vi’s suit, wanting to let her nails scratch down the tattoos littered over her back, to feel her bare skin under her fingertips. “ Beg me ,” was all Vi rasped out, chuckling softly at the hint of annoyance that instantly etched its way onto Caitlyn’s face, a reluctant look clear for Violet to see, only further amusing her as she watched the internal conflict in the blue opposite her. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn managed out, a hint of a warning tone present in her whisper of the other woman’s name, the corner of Violet’s lips tugging up into a mischievous smirk as she could tell Caitlyn’s pride was preventing her from begging desperately to let her come. 

“Beg me or I won't give you what you want,” she muttered into another lewd kiss, tongues sliding against one another before Caitlyn gasped into her mouth, Vi’s fingers brushing over her sweet spot perfectly, almost blurring her vision with pleasure and causing the Mercedes' driver to give in, simply needing to feel her body being over the edge. 

“Please,” she whined out quietly, ashamed at how submissive she sounded, at how much of an effect Violet had on her, her body begging for her touch, her lips, just her . 

“What was that?” Vi tauntingly questioned, earning a groan of frustration from Caitlyn as she  bit down on the teasing woman’s lips in protest, annoyed at how much fun she was having riling her up. “I couldn’t hear you, you need to say it louder Cait,” she teased, moving the hand that was tangled in blue hair to the woman’s chin, tilting her head to make her look into her eyes as she begged her to take mercy on her, to give her what she so desperately needed. 

“Please Violet,” she pleaded, not hiding the sheer amount of desperation in her tone as their eyes locked, sparks of arousal flooding through them both at the intimate, passionate and intense gaze, Vi unable to resist any longer, needing to see Caitlyn fall apart at her touch. 

“Come for me,” she murmured into a passionate kiss, both of them being consumed by the moment as her fingers curled at just the right spot, thumb still brushing over Caitlyn’s sensitive clit, sending her crashing into her release. “Make a mess all over my fingers,” Vi added before a string of moans spilt from the other woman’s lips like a chant,  pleasure instantly consuming Caitlyn entirely and wracking through her, body tensing and trembling in Vi’s strong arms as her release crashed through her powerfully. 

Violet took in every sigh, every soft moan that gracefully fell from Caitlyn’s lips as she rode out her high, the slight twitched from her body as euphoria and ecstasy overwhelmed her, her hips slowly coming to a stop against her hand whilst she relaxed against her comforting body, sinking into it as Vi pressed her into the wall to keep her upright, letting her recover from the exhaustion of her release and the race from earlier. Tenderly, she also brushed back the stray strands of blue from out of Caitlyn’s eyes, tucking a few behind her ear as a delicate and beautiful smile stretched across Cait’s face, the intimacy wrapping around them both greatly appreciated by both women. 

“Don’t get used to that,” Caitlyn mumbled after a moment, holding the soft gaze, letting a hint of mirth appear in her eyes for Violet to see, her smile growing that little bit wider as she raised her eyebrow expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate, “ Next time , I’ll be in charge and I’ll remind you of your place.” 

“Next time?” Chuckled out Vi, a sudden excitement growing in her at the idea of spending more time with the other woman, a small nod from Caitlyn making her smile even more. “And where is my place?” She humorously asked, sliding her hand out of the other woman’s suit, bringing her fingers that were covered in Caitlyn’s cum to her lips, groaning a little at the taste of her whilst Caitlyn watched in awe, unable to take her eyes off her lips as they wrap around her fingers. 

“Under me,” she purrs out, that usual confident and dominant demeanour returning in the Piltovan, her eyes flickering between Vi’s eyes and lips before leaning in to softly press their lips together, her arms loosely wrapping around the back of her neck as they savour the moment. 

“We’ll see about that,” Vi huffs out, her hands settling at Caitlyn’s hips as they let a comfortable silence wrap around them both tenderly, their eyes conveying the emotions they both felt whilst they held the soft and gentle look, both of them glad that they crossed a line, ready to see where this would take them. 

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ DRUNKEN WHISPERS 𖤐. — sim jaeyun

(*´▽`*) Ꮺ sim jaeyun + fem! reader non-idol au college/university au friends to lovers ᛝ warning cursing drinking partying drunken confession one kiss scene open ending so interpret it as how you would . . !? & 1249 — m.list

note. i've been itching to write something related to drunk confessions so yeah. also this is my first jake fic, hopefully i didn't messed up his character here. i might make a part two for this if this blew up hehe. and merry xmas! 🎄tagging @senascoooop

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. 

“Hello?” You picked up the ringing phone without checking the screen. Your desk was a sight to behold; a stack of books placed dangerously close to the edge of your desk with sheets of papers covering the surface. In the middle was your laptop, the blaring screen nearly blinding you. 

“Hey uh, do you mind coming over to pick Jake up? He’s drunk,” Heeseung said, sounding embarrassed. You could make out the faint booming music from the other line. 

“Again? Heeseung, this is the fourth time it has happened this week,” you sighed, already rising to your feet, swiping your phone, wallet and car keys off the table as you stepped out of your room.

You heard a laugh. “We tried to stop him, (Name) but you know how it always turns out.” 

You merely rolled your eyes, having known Jake long enough to visualise how the scenario played out. As far as you were aware, Jake was a persistent pillar in your life. You had known each other since you were toddlers, due to both of you being neighbours and how your mothers were friends too. Everywhere you went, he was sure to follow you. It was an endearing sight to behold for the public, like a puppy following its owner. 

“Whatever, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. In the meantime, please stop him from drinking again,” you replied, hanging the call after Heeseung texted you the location of where they were. 

It didn’t take you long to arrive at your destination and you stepped out of your car after parking it, able to hear the loud bass boosted music that grew louder as you got closer. Thankfully, you didn’t have to enter the club as you easily spotted Jake and the others seated outside. It was like Jake had heightened hearing, for he perked up at the sound of your approaching footsteps. His face lit up as he rose to his feet while swaying side to side, resulting in both Heeseung and Jay having to steady him. 

But Jake didn’t care. He staggered his way towards you, throwing his entire body weight on you. You would have fallen to the ground if you didn’t catch yourself in the nick of time. You scrunch your nose at the revolting stench of alcohol lingering on his body and you could smell it from his mouth too, much to your disgust. 

“(Name)~, I’ve missed you so much,” his words were borderline slurring, barely comprehensible but you were still able to make out what he said. 

Thankfully, Heeseung and Jay pulled him away from you, eliciting a pathetic whine from Jake who struggles to free himself. You, on the other hand, ran a hand through your hair. “How many did he drink?” You asked. 

“Uh, like seven?” Heeseung replied, earning a smack to the arm from Jay, who shot him a glare.

“Seven? And none of you tried to stop him?” You asked, exasperated. 

“Hey, we tried our best but he refused to listen to us. He only listens to you,” Jay pointed out, a knowing glint in his eyes; a glint that made you look away, ignoring how your stomach tightened. 

“I’ll take him home now then, I’ll see you guys next week,” you sighed, bidding them farewell as you threw Jake’s right arm around your shoulder, having to grip onto him to prevent him from falling forward or backward. The others see you off before returning to the club, wanting to get more drinks before heading home. 

Needless to say, it was a struggle trying to complete the short walk to your car. You had to support the weight of a fully-grown man who is drunk, all the while maintaining your balance. With some difficulty, you managed to overcome it. However when you were trying to fish for your keys, Jake thought it was a good idea to bury his face in the crook of your neck. You groaned when his abyssal-like hair blocked off a good portion of your view, making a simple task harder than it should be. 

“Jake, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to push his head away but it was futile. 

He whined, still able to move his limbs despite his current state. You froze when Jake wrapped his arms around your waist. Physical contact is a common thing in your friendship but something about the way his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck caused goosebumps to form. You involuntarily shivered when he rubbed circles on your waist, through the fabric of your clothes. 

“Jake, seriously, stop this,” you said, your voice wavering at the end and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Noooo,” he whined, his hot breath grazing against your skin with every word he spoke. “I miss you so much.” 

“We literally meet every day, how can you miss me?” You sighed, finally pulling out your keys to unlock your car. You opened the backdoor, managing to get him in. 

Jake grabbed your wrist and before you could react, he tugged you down. You yelped, falling forward and thankfully, you didn’t hit your head against anything. You held yourself up in an awkward position, one knee digging into the car seat, one hand gripping onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while the other was pressed against the window in front of you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close he was. 

You were so close that if one of you were to move, you would be kissing. You have always known Jake is attractive but it was another level to see his features up close. His eyes were windows to his soul. No matter how expressive he is or how he tries to hide his feelings, his eyes will never lie. And right now, you could detect nothing but pure love and adoration in them. It was enough to make you gulp nervously. 

“(Name), you’re so pretty. Wanna kiss you so bad,” he murmured, words no longer slurring and for a moment, you thought he had sobered up, only for him to giggle and the thought was washed down the drain. 

“Jake, enough. You’re not thinking straight,” you said, not wanting to ruin your many years of friendship. You didn’t want to let something as simple as your feelings for him ruin it. You tried to move away but his grip on your wrist tightened. 

“I’m telling the truth,” he whines, lips curling down in a pout. You were tempted to kiss him right there and then but you held yourself back. “Heeseung and the others know about how I’m madly in love with you. You’re always on my mind, no matter what I go. If only you know how crazy I am for you.” 

You were rendered speechless, taken aback by the utmost sincerity in his voice and the abrupt confession. Never in your life have you thought that your friend feels the same way. 

“Jake, I—!?” 

You weren’t given the chance to finish his sentence. Jake moved and with one smooth movement, he captured your lips in a kiss. You were too stunned to react and the kiss ended as fast as it started. He pulled away, looking into your eyes for a few seconds before passing out. All you could do was to openly gape at him, watching as he fell asleep, occupying the entire backrow of your car.  

What the fuck just happened? 

[vanillakook]

❥. 　⁓ art: objective or subjective? - j.j.k

you being jungkook’s snippy academic!rival is so funny to him because he knows you are definitely not like that. yes you were incredibly headstrong and worked hard on whatever was put in front of you. he couldn’t deny you were the best at what you did (he was better). that mouth you had on you though? all for show. that’s why he let you dog him out with insults and backhanded compliments in front of everyone during lectures. at the end of the day your classmates have never seen you how he does. a pretty, fucked out, desperate slut who lost all of her self proclaimed morals the moment he touched her.

so yeah, talk circles around him during debates, but wouldn’t let you get your words out later as he plunged his dick down your throat. score higher than him on that math exam, but be prepared to be sprawled out on his lap as he tested how many of his digits you could take. thats why he didn’t care when you ridiculed him in front of the entire class after he very confidently said an opinion you didn’t agree with. todays debate topic was on the idea of art being objective or subjective. as always, you and jungkook never saw eye to eye, always having opinions that counteracted one another.

he sat back in his seat, arms crossed and glaring at you sternly. “art is objective. it needs to be done with structure, have meaning. otherwise how will we pass it down to other generations for them to study? you can’t have an over saturated market of… nothing.” he argued.

you tilted your head. everyone knew this was about to get heated, all scooting to the edge of their seats. “you’re kidding… right? anything can be art. art is personal. it’s fun, its serious, it’s silly, its structured. art can be anything, why would you limit art to educational purposes?”

“to birth more art you have to study art, y/n. you have to learn from what came before you.”

“yes, but it can also be just a fun and creative outlet for people, not everyone wants to study art. some people just want to do it. you write music pieces, i expect you of all people to know what i’m trying to say.” you turned around in your seat, going back to copying the notes from the slides. you knew he hated that. it was a sign of disrespect, that you had no interest in what he had to say. you bit back a smile though, knowing he would make you pay for this later.

“which is why i do it with precision and expertise that i’ve studied and learned, so people can learn from me to continue creating great art.”

your pen stopped in the middle of your notebook. your head swiveled and you scrunched your nose. “who said you create art?” a roar of laughter swept through the students of the lecture, once again you had the upper hand.

“yikes jk, you’re gonna keep taking that?” one of your classmates said.

yes, and he did keep taking it. it was worth it because now look at you, back at his apartment, in his clothes, taking his dick. you tried to crawl up from his large desk and all he did was wrap your perfectly styled hair around his fist and pull you back into him. “wanna run away now huh? i know you’re not stupid enough to do that.” your arch sank deeper while he continued to rock you into his desk. studying materials scattered across the room, pencils, papers, and textbooks being sent flying.

“k-koo please–” you panted out. your hand pushed at his pelvis while he hiked your skirt farther up your waist so he could see your ass clap down on him more. your cunt was so creamy around him, spilling around his cock and creating a lewd scene for the man.

“come on sweetheart, give me all that mouth that you had in class. try saying that stupid little argument now.” he positioned himself at the perfect angle to where he would directly hit your g-spot. that was jungkook for you, precise and perfect, even when ruining his pretty fucktoy’s pussy. his hand shoved your head down into a pile of his notes, watching you squirm with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. he bullied his cock up into that messy cunt of yours, heavy balls slapping against your clit and waiting to be emptied into your womb. for someone who had an argument for everything, all you had spilling out of that mouth now were drools and moans.

“y-you fuck me so good koo, your cock feels so good in me koo! yes! yes! yes! fuck me koo fuck my pussy!” your babbles were muffled by the math notes your head rested on. your pussy showed him just how good he fucking you, sopping and clenching down on him. he was turning that brain and cunt into pure mush. you were at a point of no return. he flipped you like a rag doll and lifted you up on the desk, swiping his papers on the ground with everything else. he had abruptly removed his dick, leaving you empty with a heaving pussy.

“debate me now baby, just us.”

you rolled your eyes and reached for him, yet he took a step back, cock in hand, stroking it slowly while he took in your state. your usual prim and put together appearance now looking like one of a porn stars. hair tossed, skirt hiked, knee high socks pooling low around your calves. “jungkook come on–” he smacked your hand away.

“nah you come on, said art is subjective huh?”

“yeah, because it is, art is personal and if you decide to limit it to just having to be perfect that quite literally challenges the idea of creativity as a whole and– jungkook.” he positioned himself at your entrance, drowning his tip into your wet folds. dragging it up down, circling it around your bud, and prodding at your tight hole.

“what? continue.”

“art is… it’s… fuck i really don’t care about what art is just fuck me koo, please.” your hips moved in circles, teeth sinking into your lip while you watched yourself grind on his tip. “mhm your turn. what’s art kookie?” you didn’t mean for that to come out in a slutty, lewd moan.

“objective. take this pussy for example,” he caught you off guard completely, stuffing you to the brim with dick and holding it up against your soft spot. “i made you baby– i studied you– my work of fucking art.” his hips picked up a violent pace and rocked into you until you were shaking and cumming around his shaft. and so he spilled into his pretty work of art, shooting his seed up inside of you and leaving your womb painted white. “final arguments?” his chest heaved while he was still buried inside of you.

“i-“ you sighed. “i guess art can be objective.”

masterlist

[kedreeva]

There are good things in this world still

The Holidays have had me busy the last few days, so between my last Good Things post and this one:

My brother flew down to surprise my sister with a visit for Christmas.

My elderly, ill bird (Aurora) started showing fast improvement once we switched medications for her!

I spent an evening with my in-laws, who are lovely folks. There was good food, good company, good cheer. I received an adorable homemade sticker from my nephew, with my farm name in the Jurassic Park logo style!

It lives on my computer now so I can look at it whenever I want. They also gave me a laptop cooling pad, which not only cools my laptop, but allows me to tip/raise it only my lap so I'm no longer hunched over to write and game!

I stole all of the wrapping paper and boxes, to be shredded for rodent bedding/nesting materials; they will highly enjoy all of the novel scents and textures!

I made spinach artichoke dip for the christmas gathering, except I completely forgot the artichoke. On the one hand, I felt bad not having a viable dish, but on the other hand, I mixed in the artichoke when I got home, and put it all into a mini-crockpot to heat up and eat at home. Worked great! I've been wondering about the effectiveness of the mini crock for a while (Can I Make Just One Cup Of Soup??), and it seems fairly viable for keeping stuff warm at least- GREAT news for making a small amount of hot mulled cider for cold nights.

I finished two scenes for my next chapter of story, after not having the spoons to write for a while. I also caught myself daydreaming about Final Pack again, so I will be renewing efforts to get the first book cleaned up!

I candled the eggs from my wild type celadon project, expecting that none of them would be growing (because the eggs get too cold in the winter), but there are FIVE of them! growing!! They've got ten more days to go, so we'll see how many actually make it out. I am STOKED to see what the first babies look like.

I baked sugar cookies and frosted them with my partner. It was very fun, and I have enjoyed giving cookies to people (and eating them, myself) since.

There are good things left in this world, however small. This is your opportunity to reblog this and share your good things with each other, or check the notes if you need a reminder.

[fir-fireweed]

Hi, I played the entirety of Viatica a few hours ago, I enjoyed it, but I have one small gripe with the ending. It feels like it wasn't really earned, like no matter which choices I could've picked, I didn't work for it. It's entirely linear, like no one could've died during the rebellion ending.

Hello, thanks for giving my story a try. 😊

That’s completely valid and I hear you. There’s 2 big reasons for that. One, I don’t like reading bad endings, and I REALLY don’t like writing them. 😅 I don’t like major character death (as in MCs and ROs). I understand many people want that in their stories, and while I can appreciate a well-written tragic scene, I don’t enjoy writing one myself. Chapter 10 nearly wrecked me, lol. So that choice was self indulgent on my part.

And two, and this is a big one and kind of plays into my first reason, Viatica was a labor of love. I’ve mentioned before but it’s adapted from a novella I wrote 25 years ago. Yes, it was linear because of this. The original was never published, but not for lack of trying. And it’s always been a bit of disappoint in the back of my mind. So this was me finally publishing the story I always wanted to write. The fact that I get to share it with you all, and have the response that it has had, has been the cherry on top. Believe me, I appreciate it soo much! ❤️ But ultimately, I had a desperate need to see this story published this way.

I do plan to explore more drama and (shudder) angst in the new IF. Not all the ROs will get along, there may even be some betrayals, and MC doesn’t have to always be the good guy. I’m not sure if I’ll go full on bad ending, but we’ll see!

[eetherealgoddess]

hey girl more can I request more male reader x bonten 😭 you write so well that my pussy wants to be a dick instead

ꨄBloody Tiesꨄ

Oneshot - Dark Content - Soulmates - Kanto Manji Era - Bonten

❦Who knew your soulmates would be a part of the opposing gangs?❦

Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kokonoi Hajime, Kakucho, and Haitani Brothers x Male Reader

❣︎Been a while since I read the manga so if anything in the timeline is wrong or messed up, I am looking back for reminders but there might be mistakes. Might even change the story a teensy bit❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.

✩Characters are 18+ as always.

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bloody Ties

You couldn’t believe it. The outcome of the battle of the three deities had been one of the bloodiest and gruesome gang wars you had ever experienced in your life. You are currently kneeling with one leg on the ground while your arm rests on the other propped knee. Your breathing is ragged and your body hurts. Scars are layered over your skin as well as bruises from the beating you received from the other gangs.

For a while, you had been winning, your gang Brahman holding their own. It was rough but you were getting through it. That is, until the beast who created Kanto Manji finally decided to fight. It was disturbing. The former Toman leader you used to hear so many positive things about had become a purebred monster who wouldn’t hesitate murdering those in his way. Even his loved ones.

You eyed the scene with concern as Senju, your most trusted higher up, offered up everything she built for the sake of saving the life of Takemichi, a weak and yet determined man you had met recently. A former Tokyo Manji member. Although you had seen what the invincible Mikey could do, you were ready to defend your leader to the fullest, ready to pounce if needed as she kneeled in front of the blonde man.

You watched the ground as blood leaked from your nostrils, the drops splattering as your vision became blurry. Everything had been so intense. Even South, the maniac from Rokuhara Tandai had been beaten almost half to death. Honestly you were terrified for your leader having been in the face of death itself. She was too close.

“S-Senju-!” You spit blood through your teeth as you shakily made an attempt to stand on your own two feet, failing in the process. A hand on your shoulder stopped you in the process.

“Stand down. For your own sake.” Akashi states with a stern look on his face, staring at the scene in front of you down. Abruptly, a burning sensation crawls up the chest where your soul marks are embedded within your skin. It caused you to bring a hand to the area as you held on for dear life, eyes shut tight.

Once you open your eyes, your breath hitches as you make eye contact with dark voids. You can only hear your heartbeat as your eyes widen. You notice the holographic red tie that connects both of your chests throughout the distance.

No.

No, no, no!

You watch as five more red ribbons spread all around you. Having been too focused on the main person that stood at a distance in front of you, the shocked expressions of the other five were missed.

“This can’t be!” You breathe out as the ribbons disappear. Akashi looks down at you with confusion. Nobody else could see the ties that had just appeared. Only the person and their soulmates are able to see their ribbons. The only thing others can see is the mark embedded within your skin. You watch in horror as the blonde man who wore no expression on his face walks towards you.

You used Akashi’s arm to try and reach your feet, but you were still too weak to make your goal.

“Fuck!” You hissed as Mikey got closer. Before he could reach you, Akashi took a stance in front of you.

“Mikey! We already disbanded our gang! Let it go!” He had no idea why Mikey was coming towards you. He knew he had to put a stop to it.

Once Akashi held his arms up, Mikey quickly stomped his stomach, causing the man to drop to his knees. As he kicked his face to the side, Kokonoi stood on the sidelines watching with sweat trickling down his concerned expression.

“Mikey! That’s enough, okay?!” He yells out to his leader in desperation not for Akashi, but for your safety. His soulmate’s safety. The last thing he expected was for you to present in Brahman. He thought his soulmate died in a fire.

Kakucho hangs onto Ran from the side, breathing heavily as the bewilderment of the presentation wears off. The Haitani brothers watch the display with their droopy eyes opening in realization of your ties. They’ve never even noticed you before so how could this be?

Sanzu stands, pipe hanging from his hand as he stares with heavy lids and an expressionless face. Who even are you? Why hadn’t you presented earlier? Maybe you hadn’t been around until Brahman came about. He didn’t understand and was honestly too exhausted at the moment to even try. Mikey continues to kick Akashi before you attempt to stand from kneeling again.

“You fucking freak! Stop it!” You yell, attempting to lunge at Mikey only to fall over pathetically from your worn out body. You land on your hands and knees as Akashi finally falls over, knocked out cold.

Mikey crouched down before grabbing the collar of your uniform and pulling you up, feet hanging off the ground as he looked up at you. Senju runs to your aid, but before she can make it a pipe meets with her head before she falls back, a large bruise forming from the impact. Her skin splits and blood drips down her forehead.

“You stay out of this.”

Sanzu only glanced at her with disgust before his attention turned back to you. Pulling back his free arm, Mikey aims to punch your face before your hand lands on the hand holding your shirt up as you brace yourself for impact, shutting your eyes in the process and turning your head. You feel nothing before you’re dropped to the ground, landing on your behind before you look up in confusion. You stare at Mikey’s back after he turns away.

“We’re done here.”

Your vision blackens before you fall back in exhaustion, eyes rolling behind your head.

A bright light enters your vicinity as your eyes blink open. You hear beeping to the side and eye your surroundings to see that you’re lying in a hospital bed.

“You’re awake.” You hear a sigh of relief to the side of you. Turning your head, your eyes meet with the notorious money maker of the gangs. Kokonoi Hajime. You felt the burning in your chest once more as the ribbon appeared in front of you. Your eyes widen. He must be one of the other five ties.

You felt him gently grab your hand before bringing the fingers to his lips as he leaned on the bed with his head faced down.

“I was worried.” Your eyebrows furrow slightly. As much as you want to relish within your soulmate’s embrace, you couldn’t ignore the gang he had chosen. His poor judgement and enabling behavior almost led to countless deaths.

“Look Kokon-.”

“Hajime. Please, call me Hajime.” His grip tightened slightly against your fingers before you cleared your throat.

“Hajime. I would love to give you a chance. I really want to, but I can’t accept your choices when it comes to that sadistic gang you’re in.” You frown. A scowl forms on his face at your statement before he releases your hand.

“I get it, Y/n. I really do. I only ask that you try to understand my proposition. I will always choose the winning side.” You both make eye contact as he informs you of his reasonings. You shook your head in response. He released a sigh before fingers met with the bridge of his nose.

“There’s no reason for this topic of conversation. You don’t really have a choice but to accept the conditions. I’m not your only soul tie, right?” You eye him with a look of suspicion.

“It’s only a matter of time before you’re brought home. You might as well accept your circumstances now.” Your eyes widen at his statement.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You scowl in return. He sighs once more before crossing his arms and legs over the other. He leaned back in the chair before looking you in the eye.

“All of your soulmates are in the same gang. The Haitani brothers and Kakucho have now joined the Kanto Manji Gang. Soon, we will form a bigger organization and dive deeper into the industry. You’ll have to be right there with us.” You gasp before sitting up from your seat.

The memories from the last few days are embedded within your mind. Draken’s death. Mikey’s ruthlessness. The gruesome and disturbing acts of that day. Your gang disbanding for the sake of saving a life. Hell no. You won’t go down so easily. Fuck the status. Fuck the gods and fuck your soul ties. They made a huge mistake.

“I refuse to accept your conditions. I refuse to be a part of anything you do. I am sickened by the actions performed by your group. I will never be a part of something so evil. You all lost what it means to be a true delinquent.” Kokonoi shook his head before releasing a slight chuckle.

“You need to grow up, Y/n.” He stands from the chair and walks towards the door to your room. “I suggest you get a grip because we’re coming back for you soon.” You were left to yourself after the door clicks shut.

Once you were released from the hospital a few weeks later, you decided to visit Senju and Akashi at your old meetup. There had been a slightly grim atmosphere after everyone physically healed from the intense battle. Fortunately, the rest of your friends were alive. Today, when you informed your higher ups of the situation with your soulmates, they could only eye you with surprise.

“He really said that?” Senju asked.

“Yeah.” You respond with your head down.

“What are you gonna do?” Akashi asked with his arms resting on his lap, legs spread with feet on the floor as he leaned over in his seat.

“I don’t know, but I can’t accept this.” You huff out. You’ve never been big on soulmates in the first place. Forcefully tied to random people that were destined from the start instead of it being your own choice did not sound enticing. Especially six of them. Akashi sighed in response.

“You should probably make it easier for yourself and accept your mates.” He smirked. “You have my blessing.”

Both you and Senju’s eyes widened.

“You can’t be serious, Takeomi! That’s a death sentence!” Senju exclaims in frustration with her brother.

“They’re not gonna kill their mate. It’s honestly the safest bet for you anyway, Y/n. At least you’ll be protected.”

“Protected? More like owned. They didn’t even give me a choice. They were gonna let me die by Mikey’s hand!” You respond with an expression of anger before standing from your seat.

“Have you lost your mind?” Senju asked Takeomi with her hands placed on her hips. “You already know how twisted our brother is!”

“I gave you my answer.”

You scanned the book’s barcode before placing it in the correct area of the aisle. Although you’re a delinquent by heart, you’ve always enjoyed reading. Which is why you got a part time job at the public library. Pushing the cart down the aisle and turning the corner, you entered another before grabbing another book and scanning it before placing it correctly. You gasp once you feel a burning sensation in your chest before turning around. Once you swiftly round your body, you’re met face to face with heterochromia eyes and a finger to your lips.

“Mikey’s impatient. You need to make up your mind.” You snatch his hand away from your mouth and turn to the side to ignore him, continuing with your job before he forces you against the aisle with hands on your shoulders. The quick movement caused the book and the scanner to fall out of your hand.

“What the fuck, Kakucho!” You quietly exclaim, not wanting to make a lot of noise in the library. One of his arms bends above your head while the other one grabs your chin. Your face heats up at the intimacy and you avoid eye contact.

“I’m impatient, Y/n.” He whispered. “Punishing us for your losses will only make things harder for you.” The grip on your chin tightens as he forces you to look at him. “We’re being nice. You’re lucky Mikey hasn’t come after you himself.” One of your hands grabs his wrist as you give him a scowl.

“What’s up with all the ultimatums? I have a say on whether or not I want to accept and I don’t.” You spat quietly.

“That’s your problem. You think you have a choice. The only reason we haven’t caught you yet is because we’re giving you a chance to come willingly. We don’t have to be in a relationship. Soulmates need each other to survive and unfortunately for you, you are our life source. If you don’t come on your own, we will just take you.” It’s indeed true. Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, platonic, or form any emotional bonds. It can be a simple contract between individuals as a way to feed onto each other.

You’re more than willing to give it up as it’s not a need unless one is desperate for it. Sadly for you, your mates seem to have an obsession with growth, power, and greed so they need you to survive. They need your life source to become stronger. You watch in concern as his eyes shift to your neck. You attempt to shove him off of you, only to be overpowered by the tight grip on your chin.

In order to complete the bond, one’s DNA must merge with the other through their neck and teeth. You can tell he’s contemplating, but you know that he must have permission from Mikey, his leader.

“Fuck.” Kakucho hissed before diving in. Instead of using teeth, he begins to suck the skin of your neck. Your body is frozen under his grip as you feel the wet sensation tickle your skin. It sends shivers down your spine as you tense, your neck being a very sensitive spot on your body. Your face heats up as both of your hands hold onto his shoulders.

“K-Kakucho…st-.” You were cut off by the holographic red tie wrapping both of your bodies around each other, locking you into the hold before it disappears. The feeling of his tongue gliding up your neck before kissing down again to suck in the same spot began to warm your lower stomach. The room felt hot and you could feel your pants tightening. The arm that was above your head reaches your lower back. It felt like something was sucking the energy out of you causing your legs to weaken.

He uses the hand on your chin to lift your head all the way back as he moves to the front of your neck where your adam’s apple rests, slowly licking up the skin before kissing back down again and moving to the other side of your neck.

“Stop!” You hissed, coming back to your senses as he lets you shove him back. “You can’t just feed from me when you want to! I still don’t accept the conditions and I will fucking not. Now get away from me!” You pick up the scanner and book you dropped earlier and grab your cart and rush away from him, leaving the energy sucker standing by himself as you ignore your own hard on.

A few days have passed since the library incident. You couldn’t help but feel like you’re being watched every step you take. Whether it be in your own apartment or outside in public. The security you used to feel has almost deteriorated. Your paranoia is constantly growing day by day, to the point it’s almost unbearable. You’re honestly nervous.

You had invited a former Brahman gang member who’s always been a close friend of yours to your apartment so when you heard someone knocking on your door, you headed over to invite him in. You couldn’t help the unexplainable anxious feeling you got when the familiar burning sensation on your chest began. You shake it off before twisting the doorknob and pulling it in.

You gasp at the sight when the door opens. In your view was your friend in a bloody mess with half his body lying on the sidewalk and the collar of his shirt in the culprit’s hand. Standing there was Haitani Ran, twisting the braid in his hand with his baton placed over his shoulder by his other. Rin stood beside him with a grip on the knocked out guy and a hand on his hip. Both had their infamous laid back expressions and only began to grow a sly smile when they saw you.

“Yo, Y/n. Who’s this kid?” Ran greets as he steps into the apartment, pushing you aside. Rin followed behind after dropping the injured man in front of your doorway. You move forward to crouch down at the body.

“F/n! Are you ali-?” You were cut off by your own shirt being pulled back before the front door slammed shut. You swatt the hand off angrily as you turn towards the brothers.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You exclaim at them, your fingers spread and hands open as you make a stressed gesture.

“No seriously, who was that dude? Why was he at your door?” Rin reiterated his older brother’s question as they gave you unimpressed looks.

“He’s just a close fr-! Actually that’s none of your fucking business. Get out of my house!” You point towards the door. You look at the hand that’s just been placed on your head.

“What’s with all the hostility? Relax.” Ran cooed with a smirk, pretending to be clueless of the circumstances.

“Anyway, we came to pick you up.” Rin states, crossing his arms. You raised an eyebrow.

“What the hell are you talking about? Nobody’s taking me anywhere.” You argue. A sigh came out of Ran’s mouth before he locked an arm with yours as well as his brother doing the same with your opposite arm. You struggle against the hold as they walk you to your couch.

“Those marks on his neck says someone got to feed from him before us.” Rin said to his brother.

“I agree brother. I think it’s time for us to get a little taste of what our mate has to offer.” Your eyes widen at the holographic ribbons wrapping around you three right before it disappears.

Reaching the couch, Rin pulls you on his lap before his arms wrap around your waist. One hand reached around your neck as he held you from behind. You helplessly watch as Ran pulls down your pants, bulge showing through your underwear.

“Shit! Put them back!” You feel the burning sensation on your chest again, this time flowing down to your lower stomach. With his knees connected to the floor, Ran pulls your shaft and testicles out of your restraints. You reach for his braids and yank him back, only for his face to heat up and a smile to reach his face.

“I guess I shouldn’t make it too easy for ya.” He says before undoing his braids and using the straps to pull his hair back into a ponytail, one strand falling in front of his face.

“W-wait!” You say before you feel Rin wrap his arm around your arms, trapping them within the hold of your waist. You tense when you feel warm lips connect with your outer ear.

“Hard already?” Ran says as he uses his index finger to rub along the bottom lining vein on your cock, causing a twitch from you as you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Four fingers go under your ball sack as his thumb stays up front, slightly squeezing the flesh as he wrapped his other hand around your cock, thumb still rubbing the bottom vein this time focusing on the tip.

“Jesus.” You breathe out. “Just let me go.” The hand around your neck reached your mouth and cupped your lips while the tongue ran up your ear before sucking the earlobe, causing shivers to run down your back at the delicate contact.

Your body freezes once you feel the wet muscle glide all the way from your base to the tip of your cock before you are suddenly engulfed fully, purple eyes gazing at you from below. Your face heats up as your stomach burns from the sensations.

Ran pulls his head back before sucking on your tip slowly, enjoying the way your cock twitches constantly with each suckle, all the while his hand continues to massage your testicles. Your head falls back as you keep your hips from moving upward. Your eyes shut tightly as Rin moves his lips to your neck, sucking harder than Kakucho did in the library, definitely aiming to leave darker marks. It feels as though both of them are sucking the life source out of you, literally. You feel your body weaken at the actions of your mates. You could feel Rin’s hard on stabbing you through his pants.

The older Haitani moans as he continues to tease you through sucking your head, still looking up at you. He slowly engulfs you once more, lips meeting your base before pulling back, repeating the process over and over again as he speeds his pace each time. This time you couldn’t hold back from the slight buck of your hips with each contact his lips made with the base of your cock.

To avoid any more eye contact, you look at the ceiling as you feel Rin slightly lift his hard on against you before sucking your neck harder, causing a little bit of pain to appear. You could tell he was holding back from biting you. You felt Rans lips circle around the head of your cock once more, this time sucking harder and faster as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. Before you could release your load, your front door slams open, almost breaking off the hinges.

“Knew it, fucking sluts.” Sanzu spits at them before walking towards you, katana hanging from his hand. Ran engulfs you one more time before pulling back with a pop and releasing your balls. Your cock is left tense from the lack of an orgasm, left right on the edge and it hurts. It didn’t mix well with the new sensation burning your chest, this time more painful than the others.

“Put his pants back on and let’s go. Mikey doesn’t like to wait.” The male with the pink ponytail demands before crossing his arms and watching you as you push your cock back in your underwear and snatch your pants from the floor, swiftly dressing yourself.

“I’m not going anywhere! All of you need to leave!” You exclaim before the end of the katana was close to your forehead.

“I’m not gonna tell ya again, Y/n. Let’s go.” Sanzu demanded with a half lidded gaze, mania still prominent within his irises. You stare at him for a moment before following along the Haitani brothers while Sanzu walks behind you with the weapon to your back.

“Awe he’s following like a good puppy!” Rin beamed as he teased you, looking to piss you off. You angrily scowl at the back of his head as you continue to walk to the car. Passing the bloody spot you wonder where your friend went and if he had run off.

“Oi, Sanzu. You should really get a taste of him, or are you gonna wait till Mikey gives you permission?” Ran pulls the strap from his hair as he rebraids his strands, a smirk on his face as he teases Sanzu from the passenger seat. Rin turns the wheel as he guides the car down the road.

“Shut up. Mikey doesn’t care anyway, as long as we don’t bite him yet.” Sanzu said next to you with his arms crossed. You try to tune them out, your own arms crossed glaring out of the window. That’s why you don’t see when the pink haired sadist unbuckled your belt and snatched your arm. Your head falls to his lap before his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Your eyes widen in response as you grab the wrist that’s closest to your neck.

He pulls you, forcing your lips to meet his. Both of your lips shape the other perfectly as he moves his mouth against you, teeth scraping your lip before his tongue passes your teeth. He continues to choke you, making it hard to breathe and your face to heat up. You eye the ribbon wrapping around you both, strapping you in place before it disappears. He moaned when you felt the energy being transferred from your life source to his. It caused you to weaken in his hold. You accidentally released a small whimper before he released you, falling against his lap once more as your blurry vision made it harder to come back to reality, saliva running down your chin.

Soul ties are a bitch for the person at the center of it all when there’s more than two individuals. Not unless everyone actually cares about each other enough to fill each life source equally. Since there’s no fair share nor an agreement of some sort, they’re all just taking your energy from you. Surprisingly Sanzu didn’t push you off, he just couldn’t stop staring at your lips while breathing hard. Not until you reached your destination in front of their Kanto Manji headquarters.

You were yanked up and dragged out of the car, forcing you to stand outside before you all headed inside the building. As you went up the elevator and made it to the correct hallway, the beating in your chest became fast. The burning sensation becoming stronger the closer you got to the correct room didn’t help at all. You were truly nervous and had no idea how this was going to go.

When you finally made it to the room, you were forced inside. You saw Kokonoi sitting on the left of a long couch that rounded the large table in the middle. He sat with his hands on his lap as he looked ahead before he turned his head and your eyes met. Next to him sat Kakucho, one of his arms on the back of the sofa as he man spread. He wore a frown on his face, turning to you with an intimidating gaze.

You were left standing at the opposite table as Sanzu and the Haitani brothers took their seats at the right side of the couch. Finally your gaze fixed on the man of the hour, the blonde sitting in the middle of the couch with his arms resting on his lap. He had a dark expression on his face and when his eyes met yours the burning sensation in your chest almost became unbearable.

Your fingers twitched before you placed your hand on your chest. Your eyes widened. The atmosphere almost made it hard to breathe in this room. It was insanely awkward and uncomfortable, watching as everyone sized you up from their seats like you were supposed to put on some kind of performance.

You could see the red tie making a tree shape as all the ribbons connected straight to your chest before disappearing. The soul ties are already so strong and they have yet to even fully bond you to them. It’s intimidating, terrifying even. You knew that once it happened, there was no going back. You had to cut these ties immediately. If only their boss wasn’t so fucking scary.

“I want to cut our ties immediately. I don’t agree with the way any of you handle things. You’re ruthless and uncaring. You only want to use me for your benefit and I refuse. I am not someone you can just use. I want real happiness and connection with my soulmate and I know that I will not receive that from any of you. We are not a good match and I recommend you find someone else.” You tried. You really did try to stay tough throughout your speech. Honestly, you were surprised you even got as far as you did. Especially without any tears.

The silence was deafening, suffocating even. They held no expressions on their faces but the same ones you saw when you came in. They weren’t moved nor changeable by what you said. It was as if what you spoke hadn’t made any difference with their mindset. After all, it is the majority vs you. You’re not dumb. They could easily overpower you, but you had to try anyway. That way you could never say you hadn’t ever tried to save yourself. And you’ll continue for as long as possible. Right now you have to face them. Face him.

“Come ere’.” You hear Mikey demand. You almost jolted from your stance, thrown off by him speaking at all. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw how all entrances to the couch had been blocked off so you have no idea what he wants you to do. Eyeing him with confusion after shifting your focus, he seems to lean over in his seat more with a threatening gaze forming on his face.

“The table. Crawl.” Your eyes widen, face already heating up. No way.

“N-no. I don’t want to do that.” You say in disbelief, desperate to retain some dignity after all the escapades from the past few days. You needed some kind of control. Some kind of comfort that everything was going to be okay. If you give in now, everything might as well be set in motion.

Kokonoi frowned while his fingers met his forehead. You’re going to give him a headache. You really are. Why not just submit and save yourself the hassle? You’re going to be forced to anyway. Sanzu’s teeth grits as he wonders what in your right mind made you think that you could defy his leader’s orders. Kakucho and the Haitani brothers just watch the display quietly with no expression on their faces.

“Five seconds.” Your breath hitched. A countdown?! Really?!

“In five seconds you’ll tell me which limb you want me to break.” Mikey states nonchalantly. You could die right now. His gaze is serious and everyone in the room knows that he’s not playing around. You wondered if there was a way you could run out of the room, but you knew you couldn’t outrun all of them.

“Fuck.” You hissed.

“Five.”

Do you listen or attempt to make a run for it?

“Four.”

What… what should you do? Either way, this shit is so embarrassing.

“Three.”

I mean what the fuck are you? A child being scolded by an abusive parent?!

“Two.”

Fuck!

Finally you bend over and put one knee on the table. The countdown halts as you begin to bring your other knee onto the table. This is so humiliating. Especially as a fucking delinquent. To get it over with faster, you push through and begin to crawl a little faster to get to the end of the table.

“Slower.”

Is he trying to humiliate you?! It seems like it. Clearly he wants you to know who’s in charge. This has to be some kind of dominance battle of some sort. You comply, avoiding eye contact with everyone even though you felt their piercing gazes. Please, please, please let this be over soon.

You pause once you finally reach the end of the table. Now you’re staring at each other head on while you await his next commands. Your eyebrows raise when you see a small smirk form on his face. You’ve never seen this man smile before, and you wish it would’ve continued that way because you’ve never seen such a smile that holds that much evil in your life. He was enjoying this.

He pats his lap, gesturing for you to take a seat. Your eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t wanted to, but you’d be left on your hands and knees displayed on the table so you move to take your position. You awkwardly sit there with one of his arms circling your waist as well as the other reaching your neck, mocking Rin’s position from earlier as you're forced to face everyone in the room, and they were definitely watching.

You gasp when he unbuckles your pants with one hand and reaches inside your underwear, gripping the cock that had just sprung to life. His other hand reaches your jaw and cups your opposite cheek before forcing your head all the way to the side, exposing your neck.

“Wait! Mikey, don’t do this!” You cry out before he tugs your shaft and lips reach your neck. It was so quick it almost gave you whiplash once he shoved his fangs in your neck. The pain had your eyes shot as you shifted uncomfortably on his lap, the holographic ribbon wrapping around both of you snugly, keeping you in place once more. Blood leaks down your neck, reaching your shirt as it stained the fabric. He continued to suck from you, something mates usually don’t do when they bite.

The other men watch with intrigue, awaiting their turn for the claim to finally have their life source in their clutches. Their power source. Their soulmate. Somehow, you have a lot of pre-cum dripping down your groin that wasn’t dried from earlier. Mikey uses it to rub along, ultimately giving you an intense handjob. You watch as the ribbons appear once more, all tied to you as well as the one still wrapped around your body. This time, the one coming from Mikey changes to black.

Your vision begins to blur as you feel the pressure on your cock engulfing the shaft and the head. Your body weakens in his hold as he continues sucking your life source, forcing a euphoric feeling from the heaviness of the movement of his hand and the lips against your neck. Your own moans sound so distant that you hadn’t even realized you were releasing that sound. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you almost lose consciousness, body tensing right before you’re brought to a hard orgasm. You shoot loads of cum into your underwear.

Mikey removed his teeth from your skin, licking up the blood that hadn’t dried from your wound as he continued hand fucking you through your orgasm.

“Messy.” He states quietly against your ear. You’re not sure if it’s because of all the cum or blood, but one thing for sure is that you feel like you want to pass out.

The rest of the men in the room are surely turned on by the display. The blood running down your throat, your moaning, the shifting of your body. Everything about that scene was divinely delicious. They all knew that they had to wait their turn, and wait patiently, they did.

A few moments later when you were barely pulled out of your trance, you felt your body rocking as you had been forced into a doggystyle position, a cock standing right under your face as you felt your own being sucked from under. A numb pain was shooting through your back as you felt a thickness stretching you from behind. Someone is also kneeling on top of the person in front of you with their cock right in front of your face. Ribbons were wrapped and swirling everywhere, entrapping you within the grasps of your soulmates. There’s major pain all over your neck, causing you to feel all the bite marks that had been made with your hand.

“Holy hell.” You breathe out as you feel a sharp impact on your prostate, as well as the mouth on your cock tightening. You looked to the side and saw that Mikey and two of your other soulmates sat watching the display. The black ribbon still connects between you and Mikey as he sits with an expressionless gaze, though the red on his face tells you everything you need to know. Your gaze falls back down as the person behind you starts fucking into you harder, darkness engulfing you again as you feel the energy literally being sucked out of your body.

It’s been years of pure hell. Your soulmates have become more ruthless since Bonten was created. Of course, they forced you into the criminal organization along with them, someone always accompanying you at missions and meetings. You didn’t really have to do a thing for the most part until they forced you to kill or torture someone for fun, though that was mostly Sanzu and the Haitani brothers.

You can’t believe Akashi joined and you always wondered why. You also wondered how Senju and your close friends were doing. Too bad you were always strapped to someone’s tie. You were rarely allowed to leave headquarters and when you did it was only for the missions and the clubs. It feels like it’s been a while since you’ve seen society or the sun except from a penthouse window. It was depressing.

You’re currently wrapped in blankets in a dark bedroom with an arm over your waist. The man is spooning you from behind all the while you stare straight ahead.

“Go to sleep.” Mikey’s husky voice reached your ear, feeling his hot breath as the black ribbon tightened around your bodies. You shut your eyes in response, awaiting for the deep slumber to take you from this reality.

[activesplooger]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ | ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀᴜ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) FUCKING FINALLY THIS SHITS DONE I CAN REST. also there's a scene in this directed towards false healings performed and idk if it seems cringe believe me i know but that shit actually goes on so I thought i should include it

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You're a woman in the 1950s who's aspiring to be a journalist. However, it's hard to enter the workforce as a woman. Your boss presents you with the opportunity of a lifetime to do an undercover expose on a cult in your area! However, as you dive deeper into the church you get more than you bargained for.

ᴄᴡ: religious themes, cults, sexism, manipulation, false "healings", mental breakdown, drugging, dubious consent, penetration, nsfw, and barf

��ᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10,256 (sorry)

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1/2

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

So the situation's this, it's 1955, and you're trying to make a name for yourself in the journalism industry. You currently work for the New York Times... as a secretary. Though you offer the same— if not better— credentials as the men who write "hard-hitting pieces", you were overlooked, as many women are in the workforce.

Why have you working when you can be a pretty face for everyone to see? It's bullshit, really. However, you were in no position to complain about where your income comes from, so you took the job. Something's gotta pay the rent, even if it killed you to watch everyone doing your dream job. That's supposed to be you working at your passion, not the under-qualified men who make more effort in hitting on you than on their writing.

You're currently perched on your chair, chin in hand, as you stare blankly at the rotary phone, waiting for it to ring. Your bored expression seemed to say "Come over and condescend me!", or at least that's what one douche seemed to think.

A cocky co-worker strides over to your desk, clad in a tacky blue suit and a coffee-stained tie. He stands in front of your desk and chuckles, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Chip a nail?". Taking a deep breath, you restrain yourself from kicking him in the balls (if he even had any), "Just waiting for the phone to ring.". The man rests his elbows on your desk, "C'mon, where's that smile? You'd be so much prettier with one.". You bite the inside of your cheek, restraining your instinct of telling this guy off. Instead, you plaster on a strained smile. "There she is!" he chuckles, walking off to his desk.

As soon as he's out of sight, your smile drops instantly. "Stupid piece of fucking shit... hope he chokes on a fucking cock," you mutter to yourself, letting your anger simmer as you bounce your leg agitatedly.

The whole situation mulls over in your head, how could you allow your life to come to this? Reduced to your gender, working at a job where you're nothing but a pretty face... You wish things were different, but what could you do? Your eyes flicker to the head editor's office door that's practically calling your name.

You know that you're destined for more. What's the worst that could happen if you just ask? So what if they fire you? There are plenty of other secretary positions open anyway. Hesitantly, you get up from your chair and march over to the editor's office, knocking on the door with a shaky hand, "Mr. Anderson, sir?". "Come in," the familiar raspy voice responds.

Straightening out your skirt, you push the door open and smile. "Kitten," he exclaims, "what brings a pretty face like you in here? Dont'cha have phones to attend to?". You shake your head, "No, the line's empty as of now, I actually wanted to talk to you about-". "Talk talk talk, that's all you women do," he states, "that and drain men's wallets!". Mr. Anderson cackles, leaning back in his chair as he laughs himself to tears. "Hah... yeah... funny," you say flatly. "Oh, c'mon, it's just a joke, you women are so sensitive," his laughter dies down, "now, what'd you need to talk about?".

Taking a deep breath, you steal yourself for the moment ahead, this was your chance. Don't blow it. "Well," you begin, "remember when I interviewed here? I originally wanted to work here as a journalist.". The old man nods, leaning forward on his desk and giving you an intimidating look as he stares you dead in the eyes. You swallow nervously, "Y-Yes, well, I wanted to follow up on that.". "On what?". "On my position here at the company as a journalist, not a secretary," you state firmly, standing up straighter as you try not to let his intimidating stare get to you. Mr. Anderson sighs and leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, "I don't understand, you're a fine secretary.". "I know," you defend, "but I wanna be more, I know I can be more than this! I went to college and was one the only woman to get accepted into the journalism program!".

Sighing softly, you plead with him, hoping he'll show a shred of humanity, "I can do this, I just need the opportunity.". He groans, "You're a pain in my ass sometimes.". "But," he reaches into a filing cabinet and hands you a file labeled "THE SIGNAL DOMINION", "you're very persistent, and annoyin', so here.". You grab the file, and your face lights up, "Thank you so much, sir! You won't regret this!". "I better not," he says while lighting a cigar. "I want you to write an exposé on a cult run by a man named Vincent Oren Xavier, are you familiar with him?". You shake your head no. "Doesn't matter," he dismisses. "Everything you need to know is in that file. Now I'll need you to go undercover for this, pretend your some type of damsel in distress that's looking for a new church or some crap, I dunno," he huffs out a puff of smoke, causing you to cough and waft the air in front of you.

"Don't be gettin' all high and mighty because I gave ya this piece though," he states while waving his cigar, "I've only given ya this to shut yer trap, got it?". "Yes, sir" you nod, "thank you.". Walking out, you close the door softly behind you and skip happily to your desk. You set the file on your lap, squealing happily as you read the contents.

The gist was that some guy got people to join his cult by luring them in with charms and keeping them there through manipulation. Their leader, Vincent, managed to escape the crimes for his obvious exploitation through some dumb loopholes in the law; what a great country we live in.

After work, you head home and plop onto your bed with a pen and paper, jotting down your plan for the exposé. Your cover would be that of a widow who had just recently lost her husband who's looking to a higher power after such a great loss. You figured you could still be a secretary; just don't mention that it's for the New York Times, that'd definitely blow your cover. For the entire night, you work on your plan, devising every piece of your fake identity to the T.

The morning light shines through your windows, causing you to stir. You lift your head off the notebook you had been jotting on all night and stretch your arms over your head. A smile stretches across your face, today is the start of your new career. Springing out of bed, you rummage in your drawers for the perfect outfit: a dark navy sheath dress that landed just below your knee and black babydoll heels. You styled your hair into classy victory rolls and smudged your makeup around your eyes just a tad to portray the look that you had been crying. After all, you'd just "lost your husband". Who wouldn't be crying?

__

Following the directions in the file led you to the parking lot of a church. In big, bold letters were the words "The Signal Dominion Church of Christ" plastered on the front of the building. The top of the building held a cross and "Christ" was plastered in the name, so you assumed it was based on Christianity in one form or another. You were never really a religious person. However, you did have some background knowledge about it from being dragged to Sunday mass as a child.

Once you walk in, you seem to have caught the end of the service. The large church was littered with people, every seat was filled with some people having to stand. You observe in the back, the whole thing seems so intimidating and bizarre. The service ended with worship, and various repeated phrases stick out to you like "Trust him", only the "him" didn't seem to talk about a God, but rather Vincent. "Trust Vincent" seemed to be a common theme throughout the sermon.

The whole thing sent a shiver through your spine, a bad feeling settling in your stomach. Once the service ends, a lady with a beaming smile approaches you, "Hi!". "Oh hi," you respond softly. "I don't think I've seen you around. Are you new here?" she asks, her smile never faltering even for a second.

"Oh yes, I just wanted to peak in, sorry," you reply shakily. You really hoped she bought your act. The woman chuckles and waves a dismissive hand, "No problem! What brings you here?". "Well, I recently lost my husband from a car accident," you begin, mustering up a few fake tears that reluctantly roll down your cheek, "and it's just been really taxing on me. I've been perusing local churches to hopefully lift that weight off me, and that's how I stumbled here I guess.". "You poor thing," the woman puts a hand over her heart, "I'm sorry to hear that. My name's Evangeline, I'm an elder here at the church.".

"Nice to meet you," you shake her hand gently, "I'm Y/n.". She takes your other hand in hers and holds them softly, confusion crossing your features as she does so, "Well, Y/N, I want to pray for you.". "Oh! Alright, sure"

She prays over you and your situation, ending it with "Amen" and releasing your hands. She looks you softly in the eyes, "How would you like to come to our service next week? I'll save you a seat myself!". "Really? That's so kind, thank you, I'd be happy to" you smile back at her.

You say your goodbyes and head back to your place, taking in what you had learned. Service starts at 8am sharp, and you knew nothing about Vincent.

When you get home, you kick off your heels and sit on your couch with a sigh. You'd barely learnt anything and you couldn't really go undercover for another week.

__

You arrive at work a few hours later, knocking on the editors office before coming in. "What's the scoop?" he asks in his usual hoarse voice. "Well, I didn't learn too much... Seems to be based on trusting the cult leader, and the people seem nice-" you reveal, hoping that he wouldn't blame your lack of evidence on your gender.

Mr. Anderson sighs, "Look, Kitten, since it's your first time doing something like this I'm not gonna yell at'cha. But listen up, if you wanna go undercover, you've gotta be a little persistent. Do a bit of digging rather than sittin' on yer ass and waiting for the oppurtunity to present itself!". "Im sorry, but-".

"No "buts"," he interrupts, "now get back to your desk and work. "Oh about that, do I have a different desk now or?" you ask. "Kitten, this project stays between you and I. Any writin' gets done on your own time. You're still a secretary after all; However, if you do good on this assignment I'll consider hirin' you full time," he explains. You nod and thank him for his time before exiting, walking back to your secretary's desk disheartened.

You slump in your chair with a sigh, eyes fixed on your lap. The cocky coworker from yesterday strides up to your desk, "Hey! Where's that sm-". Snapping your head up, you interrupt him with a glare, "Ask about my smile one more time I swear to God.". He scoffs at you and walks off muttering, "Sheesh, is it that time of the month?". You drag a hand down your face and sign.

__

The next week slowly rolls by, filled with monotonous work and vague research you found from other news articles and stories. But today, maybe you could finally get somewhere.

You put on your Sunday best, a blue pinstripe dress paired with tan stockings and short white pump heels. With the help of curlers and a ton of gel, you fashion your hair into cute pin up curls that framed your face just right.

Once you finish prettying yourself up, you grab your keys and head out of your apartment.

__

You arrive at church early today, making sure you get a good seat for today's service. As you walk in, you see the room already bustling with people eager to get a seat. In the corner of your eyes, you see Evangeline waving her arms and patting the seat beside her. Upon walking up to her, she greets you with a big hug, eliciting an "oomph" from you at the sudden embrace. "I'm so happy you came!" she squeals excitedly. "Yeah, of course, thanks for saving me a spot," you reply. She lets go and leads you to your seats.

As you sit down, she turns to you with a grin, "Today's supposed to be a great message!". "Oh yeah?" you say, turning to her, "what's it about?". "Letting go of your earthly bonds and submitting to Him!". Your eyebrow raises, "Him?" Who's-". She cuts you off by pointing up towards the sky. "Ah, you meant God, right sorry," you reply with a slight chuckle.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention, Father Vox won't be preaching today, unfortunately," she mentions with a slight frown. 'Vox?' you think to yourself, you hadn't heard any mention of a Vox before. You thought Vincent was the head honcho here, wouldn't the cult leader usually preach? "Who's Vox?" you ask quietly.

"Oh! He's the best," she gushes, "he's the head preacher around here. He opened my eyes to the lies I was once forced to concede to.". Tilting your head, you furrow your eyebrows and speak in a confused tone, "The lies?". Evangeline nods, "Yup, he taught me the meaning of life. If it weren't for him, I would still be in contact with my oppressors!". "Your... oppressors?". "Mhm," she affirms, "my so-called family and friends all held me back from my true purpose.". A chill went down your spine. Your look of horror is met with Evangeline's placid expression, how could she be so calm? Doesn't she know she's being manipulated? "I'm sorry, what-" you're cut off by Evangeline shushing you. "It's starting!" she says with a wide grin.

Three altar servers walk down the aisle holding large candles, one wafting incense across the pews. Following behind them is a man dressed in white vestments. The sacred white robes feature intricate gold patterns sewn into the stole that loosely drapes over the priest's shoulders.

Once the priest approaches the altar. He lifts his arms up in the air and everyone stands up from their seat. You follow suit and stand up a bit delayed from everyone else. The altar servers set down the candles and sit on a wooden bench behind the altar. Looking up from the large bible on the podium, the mass commences, "The lord be with you.". "And with your spirit," the room responds simultaneously. You try to keep up with all the sayings, constantly falling behind at all the responsorials and prayers. Shit, you really wished you paid attention in mass when you were younger.

After countless prayers and songs, you're finally allowed to sit. The priest smiles and crosses his heart, "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. Amen.". The members mutter an "amen" in response.

The priest walks in front of the aisle and claps his hands together with a big smile, "How are we doing, everyone? As you can tell, Father Vox couldn't join us today, he's taking a day to be reverent with God. I'll be stepping in his place for today, some of you may know me as John, but today I'll be known as Father John.".

Father John starts off the homily with a routine message, love God and all that crap, it's the end of the sermon that seemed to rub you the wrong way. The priest paces down the pews, each step impassioned as he preaches, "And therefore I ask you, the people of the signal dominion, to follow your shepherd. Let him guide you in a guide-less world full of corruption and sin.".

Once again, the "him" mentioned seemed almost sinister. It didn't feel like they were talking about God, but perhaps Vincent- or maybe that Vox that Evangeline was talking about. As your mind races, the priest starts to shout, "Has he not done enough for us?!". "No!" the congregation calls out, some people clapping and cheering. "So then, why do we run astray? Why do we avoid his divine enlightenment?! Look at all he's done for us, he saved you from suffering!".

You look around at the people in the pews, eyes fixed in admiration at the speaker, not even a hint of skepticism on their expression. How did they not question what was happening to them?! A pit grows in your stomach, almost feeling angry at these people.

Father John stops yelling and makes his way back to the pew. Lifting his arms up, the people stand. "Let us pray," he calmly commands, his tone a stark contrast to his frustrated yell. He leads the church in a penitential prayer, which, again, you didn't know. The people recite, "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.". Each "fault" is punctuated with a fist banged against one's chest. The practice, though not inherently sinister, leaves you feeling tense and guilty; the pit in your stomach starts to grow.

"I'd now like to call upon the Elders of the church to come forward and offer prayer to those who need it," people emerge from the pews and walk to the front of the church. Evangeline turns to you, "I'll be up there if you need me.".

Without Evangeline, you didn't have an in with the church. You felt out of place, not sure what to do as people pass you by to receive prayer. Taking a breath, you calm down and mutter quietly to yourself, "Be persistent, y/n.".

You walk out of your row and walk up to Evangeline, her ever-present bright smile plastered on her face. She takes your hands in hers, "I'm so glad you're here. What would you like to talk about.". "Well," you begin, racking your mind for what to say when suddenly, an idea pops up, "I was really hoping to be saved- like you were! By that guy you were talking about-". Evangeline tilts her head, "You mean Father Vox?". You nod, eliciting a thoughtful look on her face. "He is taking time to be with God today... but, m-maybe if I told him your testimony he would meet with you!". "You think so?" you ask hopefully, excitement filling the pit in your stomach. This could be your chance.

Evangeline nods frantically and takes both your hands in hers, "Let us pray. Dear God,-".

__

After the sermon, Evangeline led you upstairs to a sector of the church where only church officials and clergy were allowed. She approaches a door labeled "Father Vox" in big gold letters. "Wait here," she gestures towards a chair beside the door. Evangeline knocks on the door. "Come in," a deep voice responds.

The door clicks shut, leaving you alone in the creepy church corridor. You can hear the faint sound of an organ playing a hymn from downstairs, along with the ticking of the grandfather clock beside you. The room is cold, freezing almost- creating a tense atmosphere in the supposedly "welcoming church".

You fixate your gaze on your lap, tapping your feet incessantly on the group as you wait. Time passes slowly as you wait, focusing on fidgeting with your hands to occupy yourself.

Finally, the door swings open and Evangeline walks out. She holds the door open for you with a soft smile, "Father Vox would like to see you.". "O-oh! Great!" you get up from your seat and nod at her while walking in.

__

Seated at the desk is a handsome man with black hair and separate eye colors; one eye color being blue and the other being brown. A white scar streaks down across his blue eye going from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. He's dressed in navy blue vestments with red patterns sewn into the stole, similar to the patterns on Father John's.

You take a seat across from him, a tight-lipped grin stretching across your face to match his charming smile. On his desk are books labeled "T.S.D Bible," along with other religious paraphernalia. Perched front and center in a name placard displaying the words, "Father Vincent Oren Xavier - Head priest".

The pieces start to click together in your head. Vincent Oren Xavier, V,O, X - That must be the Vox Evangeline was talking about! Your snapped out of your thoughts as he speaks.

"Well, you must be the famous y/n I've been hearing about!" he finally says, his voice booming and upbeat. "That's me," you squeak out.

"Elder Evangeline told me all about your story, I'm so sorry to hear that, my dear," though expressing his sympathy, his smile remains unwavering. "It's fine, it led me here so-". "And we're happy to welcome you with open arms!" he exclaims with a chuckle.

You knit your hands together in your lap anxiously, "-Actually, I had a few questions.". "Oh?" he raises an eyebrow, "by all means, go ahead.".

"Well, Father," you begin, "what does this church believe exactly?". "My dear, we here at Signal Dominion are our sector of Christianity. Are you familiar with Christianity?". You nod, "I was raised Catholic.". "And as of lately?" he raises an eyebrow. "Not so much," you admit.

He nods and hums in acknowledgment softly, "No worries, we accept all that are willing to join.". "Good, good... What exactly makes this church different from a Christian church?". His smile seems to grow at your question, his tone full of confidence as he answers, "The Signal Dominion is special, the other denominations have lost their way, been too lax on God's plan for humanity.".

You lean forward in your chair, "And that plan is?". "To be saved, of course!" he grins. "Right, right," you exhale softly, "and how do you get saved?".

"Follow the church, and you'll see," Father Vox extends his hands to you, gesturing for you to hold them. You reach out and take his surprisingly soft and large hands in yours. "We can save you here, my child," he squeezes your hands, "you won't have to feel this dread upon you any longer. Don't go back to your old life, once you join the church, it's the first day of your eternal life, free of sin and grief.".

"Okay," you reply softly, hiding your internal excitement at the prospect of getting more info. Vox prays over you, eyes fixed shut as he asks God to "take away your grief"- as if grieving was an inherently bad thing. Vox commences the prayer with an "amen" and opens his eyes, gazing at you softly, "Come to our Wednesday night mass, I think you'll find it empowering.". "Oh, alright- I'd love to," you reply softly.

His hands linger for a moment before pulling away, "I'll see you Wednesday then.". You smile and nod goodbye before exiting his office.

Shutting the door behind you, you lean against it, breathing heavily as a smile stretches across your face. You did it, you're in.

__

The following days were spent working as a secretary by day and a journalist by night. Lately, your normal job didn't seem as horrible as before. You showed a renewed interest in life; every guy who would be sexist toward you was met with a smile and a nod. All you needed was the comforting notion that one day, they'd work with you. You felt comforted as you imagined the looks of horror on their smug faces as they realized that you're gonna work with them. All that good karma was coming back to you.

Currently, you're getting ready for Wednesday night mass. You fashioned your hair into loose, brushed-out waves that draped elegantly over your shoulders paired with a modest white shirtwaist dress. Once ready, you leave your apartment and head to the church.

When you walk in, you see the church booming with people. The congregation is dancing and singing as people play music on stage, a huge difference from the reverent mass you saw just a few days ago. In the crowd of people, you spot Evangeline singing and clapping in the front row of pews.

You walk up to her and wave, "Good to see you!". She greets you with a big hug, "Father Vox told me everything! Welcome to the signal dominion!". You smile at her enthusiasm, "Thanks for getting me a talk with him, I owe it all to you, honestly.". She shakes her head, "It's not me, it's you. Father Vox chose you specifically, you're special.". You open your mouth to speak but are cut off by everyone cheering as they turn their attention to the center aisle.

Father Vox jogs down the aisle, no altar servers present in front of him. This seemed to be a way more casual sermon than the "usual" Sunday mass. He goes up to the podium and speaks into the mic, "Welcome, my children, take a seat.". The people scatter into the pews excitedly and wait expectantly for Vox to speak.

He crosses his heart, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Peace be with you.". "And with your spirit!" the room calls out cheerfully. "I'd like to start tonight's service by giving a hand to our amazing worship team!" he gestures his arms out wide to the small band exiting the stage. The church erupts in cheering with the whole congregation clapping and shouting praise.

Vox holds his hands up, and suddenly, the room quiets, "Tonight, we have an important sermon –one about taking a leap of faith, and putting your whole being into the Church. Let us pray.". He leads the church in the Nicene Creed, his deep charismatic voice carrying through the whole building.

"Amen."

He takes the microphone stick in hand and carries it with him as he walks down the pews, "You know, I was talking to God yesterday-" some people cheer at that, eliciting a wider smile from Vox. His expression flattens, and he turns more serious, "And he told me how distraught he was.". The people murmur sorrowfully, some looking down at the ground with guilt as if it was their fault.

Walking up, he gets close to the pews and starts to speak in people's faces, "I am trying to lead humanity to salvation, and all I see is neglect and evil in this world... even from some people in this community.". A few people get spiteful looks from other members; it was as if Vox is trying to pit the people against each other. Have others hold each other accountable for their "wrong doings".

Vox walks back to the podium and sets the microphone down, dragging his hands down his face to dramatically express his despondency. The sermon felt like a performance, almost theatrical in the way Vox was acting. He takes his hands off his face and sighs,

"As some of you may know, I didn't preach on Sunday. I was in despair, so much so that I couldn't preach-". The congregation gasps and murmurs. "Then suddenly, God appeared and said, "My son, you will guide these people!" he starts to yell, pointing aggressively at the crowd, "You will lead these sheep to pasture for you are there sheperd!".

The room claps and cheers, increasingly encouraging him to keep ranting, "Don't let yourself be ruled by fear, that's the devil talking! I was lifted up by the Lord! And now you will be too!". He points at an elderly woman in a wheelchair, a woman you hadn't seen before at past sermons, "You there! I command you, with the power of the Lord to STAND UP!".

The lady struggles, insisting she can't do it. "I SAID STAND UP!" he commands, throwing his arms up to motion her out of her chair. You watch in horror as this wheelchair-bound woman is forced out of her chair. After struggling, the lady springs out of her chair and walks around with a celebratory lap around the pews.

The room is filled with shouting praise and cheer, people rising from their seats and crying with joy. You stay sitting, your body frozen as you try to comprehend what the fuck you just saw. Obviously, it was bullshit, but seeing all these people getting roped further into Vox's lies made you want to puke. The once excited feeling of going undercover gets replaced with dread. How could you treat these poor people like a story? Shouldn't you be helping them?!

Your stomach starts to ache at the sight. While people around you rejoice in the "miracle" that happened before their eyes, you sit there, staring blankly ahead of you.

__

The sermon lasted hours. Vox would go on rants about how the church is under attack and we must fight back against them. You found yourself nodding off only to be woken by Vox yelling.

The sermon finally concluded, and people quickly shuffled out of the building. You were a bit delayed in your movements, grabbing your purse drowsily and slowly walking out of the pews. A hand grabs at your shoulder. You turn around and see Evangeline with a tired smile on her face, "Father Vox would like to talk to you in his office.". Great. Sighing softly, you force a polite smile and nod, "Thanks.".

__

The stairs creak as you walk up the spiral staircase to Vox's office, the already tense atmosphere becoming even creepier at night. You're instantly waken up by the freezing temperature. You quickly jog to his office and knock hastily, not wanting to wait a second longer in the corridor.

"Come in, my dear."

You push the door open to reveal the dark office illuminated by candles on Vox's desk. His handsome features still displayed even in the dim light of the room, "Have a seat.". Taking a seat across from him, he gazes at you for a moment, studying your features. Exhaling softly, he speaks, "God was telling me about you.". You raise an eyebrow, "He... He was?".

He smiles softly, "He told me you're special... you're different from everyone else. I think you will do great here.". "I hope so," you smile wearily back at him. You really couldn't even bear to look at him anymore. Part of you wanted to scream in his face cry all at once, but what good would that do? He knows what he's doing is wrong, he doesn't need someone telling him what he already knows.

Vox tilts his head at you, "I hope we didn't scare you off with tonight's service.". Your eyes widen, "No, no-". He chuckles and holds up a hand to cut you off, "It's okay, don't lie. I understand how a healing service can be a bit intimidating for new members.". "It's okay, it was just... unexpected," you admit reluctantly.

Vox chuckles softly, "I bet. I know it all seems confusing and scary right now, but trust the church. Trust me, y/n. I think you can make it very high here in the church, maybe even an elder.". Whooo whoopdy doo you get to be an elder!!! You plaster on a fake smile, "I'd be honored.".

Rising from his seat, Vox walks over to behind your chair and places his hands firmly on your shoulders. He leans down and whispers softly, his voice smooth and charismatic, "I know right now everything seems chaotic, but it will all be over soon. You'll be safe here.". His words send a shiver to your spine, the "reassuring" words almost sounding threatening.

He releases you from his firm hold, and you exchange goodbyes, eager to get home after a long day. Kicking off your heels, you collapse onto your bed. You don't bother with writing tonight, that can wait for another day. For now, you let yourself debrief and rest. It's been a long day.

__

"Better," your boss states flatly, tossing your report back on his desk. "That- That's it?" you ask, frustrated, all that work for "better"? Mr. Anderson shrugs, "Look, it's a fine report. But we're not looking for "fine." Here, let's put it this way... How did you feel when you saw what was happening to these people?". You tilt your head as you respond, "I felt... distraught and devastated and-". Your boss cuts you off. "Exactly!" he exclaims, poking your report as he speaks, "then show that in your writing. When I read this I feel nothing, it's just facts laid out in front of me. Put the reader in your shoes, I want you to make them feel like they're seeing what you're seeing.".

"How do I-" you squeak out before getting interrupted once more

"Sheesh, woman!" he groans, "Do I have to give you everything? Just- Here, go deeper. You said that this "Vox" guy said sum about "climbing ranks"?". You nod affirmatively. "Expand on that," he encourages, "climb the ranks, get the story. Got it?". You held your questions and feebly grab your report, "Yes, sir.".

__

You've really had to step it up. For the past few services, you've attended every single one, from the calm Sunday service to the bizarre Wednesday night ones. But, you hadn't really made any progress with diving deeper into the church as your boss suggested. Outside of sermons, you hadn't personally seen Vox since your eerie chat with him in his office. You thought you had a leg up when he called you "special," though looking back, that's probably what he says to everyone who joins the church.

This morning, you really were gonna step up your ass-kissing game to the church. You arrive an hour early to the Sunday service, dressed all prim and proper in a wine-red sheath dress. For the first time you've ever seen it, the church was completely empty. The once-packed pews are now completely devoid of any life, and yet, you had a strange feeling you weren't alone...

You ignore the strange feeling of eyes on you and approach the altar. Slowly, you kneel before it and get into a prayer position, eyes furrowed shut as you firmly clasp your hands together against your forehead. Just for good measure, you mutter "please God" under your breath every now and again. You felt a bit silly doing this, almost like a child playing pretend.

For about half an hour you knelt there, hoping your faux devotion would catch the eye of the higher ranks. Just as your knees were starting to give out, a large hand gently grabs hold of your shoulder, "Come with me.".

You open your eyes and see Vox standing behind you, a subtle smile across his sharp features. He offers a hand to you and helps you to your feet. Without another word, he swiftly turns and guides you upstairs to his office.

Once upstairs, he opens the door for you and gestures a hand out for you to walk in. The two of you take a seat, Vox smiles softly, "Don't think your actions have gone unnoticed, my dear.". Your heart rate quickens. Were you found out? "I've noticed your devotion, and so have the others.". You exhale softly, relieved that this wasn't some sort of shake-down. Tilting your head, you fake confusion, "My devotion?".

"Yes, the elders and I have noticed your piety towards the church. Out of all the members in the church, your efforts stand out," he chuckles softly and reaches into his desk, "I meant what I said when I called you 'special'.". Vox lifts his hand from the desk, a pretty gold beaded rosary necklace hangs off his index finger. You lean forward to get a better look at the jewelry, "What's that for?". "You," he gestures the necklace toward you, "to show my appreciation, you've become a model member of the church."

Taking the rosary from him, you marvel at the dainty intricacies of the necklace. It was real gold, from what you could tell, and not just plated either. Gold beads were strung along the dainty chain, and the apex held a pendant with the initials "T.S.D", a beaded chain hanging down from it. At the bottom of the chain hung a diamond-encrusted cross, the crystal shining brightly in the dim room. How did Vox have the money for this? Surely being head of a "church" couldn't make that much money, right? Whatever the reason was, you shouldn't accept gifts from a corrupt person paid with money from God knows where.

Your fingers run over the expensive jewelry, "I really can't accept this.". Vox tilts his head to the side, "Why not?". "Because its uhm," your hands clutch the necklace in your hand, you whisper under your breath, "really fucking expensive.". Snapping your head up to look at him with wide eyes, "Shit I mean- Wait sorry again- It's just-". Vox raises his eyebrows and chuckles, "No worries, you're forgiven."

Getting up from his desk, Vox strides over to you, gently releasing the necklace from your grasp, "Don't worry, the church paid for it. Besides, this isn't about money, think of it as a "thank-you" gift.". His hands brush your hair to the side and deftly clasp the necklace around your neck from behind. He moves back in front of you and clasps his hands together, "Lovely."

Glancing at the clock, Vox excuses himself to get ready for the sermon and you leave shortly after for the service.

__

A few weeks have passed since your surprise gift, and ever since then, Vox has kept an eye on you. There would be moments when his eyes would meet yours during a sermon, almost as if he was speaking directly to you. Part of you hated how much you liked the attention, Vox was the only man in your life who treated you decent, even if he was using you to further his agenda and grow his cult. The other part of you was terrified by it.

With all the close attention to you, you have to be extra careful to not let your true intentions slip. One mistake, and it's over for you. No career, and hell, Vox would probably kill you to keep that story from coming out.

It's currently Saturday night, you had gone to bed early for the morning service and were sound asleep. The loud trill of your home phone wakes you in a panic. You snap up into a sitting position and exhale softly after realizing that it wasn't some type of alarm.

After stretching, you hop out of bed and walk to the kitchen as the phone blares, "Jesus Christ, shut up...". Grabbing the phone off the wall, you pick up the phone and speak gravelly, "Hello?".

"Good morning!" a familiar voice responds, "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time.". "Uh, I'm sorry, who is this?" you question, leaning against the wall to support your exhausted body. "This is Vox," he responds. Oh shit! You perk up instantly and hold the phone closer to you, "Oh! Vox! Uh, good morning... h-how'd you get this number?". "Anywho," he ignores with a cheerful tone, "I just wanted to call and let you know about tomorrow's sermon.".

Pushing off the wall, you pace in a small circle around your kitchen, "What about tomorrow's sermon?". "I just wanna make sure you'll be there, I can count on you, right?". "Yeah, of course-" the cord yanks you back softly as it stretches to its max. "ow fuck-" you mutter. "What was that?" the voice asks. "Nothing! Uh, I'll see you tomorrow, bye!" you stammer out, slapping your palm to your forehead in embarrassment.

The phone clicks in its spot on the wall and you cover your face in exhaustion and mortification at your slip-up. You really had to work on your cussing if you were gonna sell this whole "widowed church girl" persona. Whatever that's tomorrow's problem, you're too delirious to function right now.

__

After a pathetic night's rest of tossing and turning, you wake up and head to church. Sitting in the center front pew, you save a spot for Evangeline. You've grown quite fond of her over the past few months, and although she was a little church-crazy, she's been nothing but welcoming to you. Evangeline skips over to you with a wide grin, "Y/N!". "Hey!" you greet her with a hug and chat a bit before the sermon begins.

The lights dim as the mass starts, candles illuminating the walkway as the altar servers walk to the altar. Vox follows behind them, his hands folded in a prayer position. His eyes meet yours, giving you a soft smile. Your lips subconsciously twitch up into a grin as you see him. You snap your head back up to the stage once you realize what you were doing, no time for making eyes at a literal fucking cult leader. Sure, he's attractive, but he's a psychopath! 'get it together, y/n,' you say to yourself.

Vox approaches the podium and goes over the routine responsibilities and creeds. "Good morning," he says into the mic, his voice booming through the large church. "Good morning," the congregation responds. "Today is a special sermon," he begins, "many of you have such courageous testimonies of how you entered the church! And some of you have so graciously offered to share your stories today-". People start exiting the pews and lining up on the stage. Vox smiles and gestures one of them up to the pew. The woman smiles softly as he speaks into the podium's microphone, "I first found out about the church when...".

__

The testimonies droned on for about an hour. Each testimony, though intended to ignite a fire in your faith, made your stomach churn. Hearing about these people who once had great lives, leaving them in a time of darkness, cutting everyone off, all for the hope of having a purpose in the church. A tear trickled down your cheek as you listened to people fall deeper into the cult. If only they knew their "salvation" would be their downfall.

As the last person wrapped up their story, the congregation erupted in applause and cheer. Vox retakes the stage and speaks into the mic, "Thank you, everyone, for those beautiful stories... and I'd like to invite one more person, a new member, to share their story.". He gestures a hand out to you in the crowd, your face turning white. Fuck. Why wouldn't he ask you about this first? You already are mortified by public speaking, it's gonna take everything in you not to accidentally expose yourself.

Shakily, you arise from your seat, eliciting light applause from around you. Once you reach the podium, you clear your throat nervously, "H-Hi everyone.". Evangeline smiles proudly and gives you a thumbs up. You smile back at her and continue, "M-My story started when uhm my husband died. It was a really dark time for me and I just wanted to have hope again.". Fidgeting with your hands, you glance at Vox who gives you a condescending smile.

Standing up straighter, you speak more confidently into the microphone, "And then I found this church, and I was scared... really scared. But with the help of a lot of you here, I really found a purpose again. Thank you for everything, I'm glad I'm here.". You quickly exit the stage and plop in your seat. Evangeline immediately showers you in praise while you stare at the floor in mortification. __

The service goes on for another half hour or so. You're eager to leave, quickly getting up and grabbing your things once Vox ends the sermon. You just wanted to go home, relax, and take a bath- You've pushed yourself hard the past few weeks, maybe it's time to take a break from the story for a little bit.

And just as you're about to leave, a firm hand grasps your shoulder. "My dear, come with me for a moment," the familiar voice rings in your ear. Fuck! You sigh and oblige, not wanting to rouse any suspicion. Who knows what he would do if you denied him.

He leads you down the corridor and into his office, the door shutting behind you with a loud creek. You both sit down, Vox staring at you with his piercing multicolored eyes, "Your testimony was beautiful, dear.". You huff quietly to yourself, "Yeah, it was just- unexpected.". He chuckles, "Ah, I see, not a big public speaker?". You shake your head no. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he says somewhat apologetically.

Noticing your harsh stare as opposed to your usual submissive one, Vox sighs softly. "Here," he grabs a bottle and two glasses out of his desk and pops it open. He poured some of what looked like champagne into your glass and handed it to you. "Is this booze?" you raise an eyebrow. He flips the bottle over to reveal the "Sparkling Cider" Label. "Pft, oh," you chuckle softly and pick up the glass.

You clink your glasses together. "Cheers," he says, his rich voice sounding a bit husky. You take a sip, unaware of Vox's intent gaze on you as you drink the beverage. His gaze drifts to your necklace as you wipe the foam from the drink off your lips, "I see you're still wearing the necklace I gave you. I take it you like it?". "Oh, yeah," your hands move up to fidget with the cross pendant, "It's really nice, thanks again by the way.".

"No need to thank me," he states, laughing softly as his gaze wanders over your features, "It looks beautiful, my dear.". "Oh- Thank you," you try to cover the unwanted blush spreading across your face.

He sets the bottle down and rests his elbows on the desk, "You know, I think I owe you my testimony now that you shared yours.". You tilt your head, "Your testimony?".

He nods, "I didn't come from a good home. My father was- very abusive. And so was my mother. CPS must've investigated my parents a dozen times, but, they never convicted them of anything. Just chalked it up to parental punishment and me being a sensitive kid.".

Your eyebrows furrow in a sympathetic expression, "I had no idea I-". He cuts you off, "No, no, don't be sorry. That isn't the part I want you to focus on.". Vox leans closer over the desk, "Things only got worse as I got older. My parents were broke and only became more abusive over time...".

He gets up from his chair with an excited grin and walks over to you. "But then, God appeared to me and said, "Vincent, my son, I have bigger plans for you than this! Go forth and spread the good news!". And so I did! I took my old man's car and ventured out here, where I started the church.".

As he wraps up his testimony he looks at you excitedly, almost as if he is seeking approval like it was some kind of performance that he did. You flipped your cringe into a surprised grin, "Wow that's- that's incredible!". Taking another sip, you groan internally as he keeps going on about the "Son of God" bullshit.

__

As time goes on, you start to feel funny. Time didn't feel as though it were passing, but as you glance at the clock you realize that hours had passed. Vox’s voice starts to sound like he’s talking underwater, your main focus being the loud ringing in your ear.

You wince and cover your ears. Vox smiles, “Everything okay?”. “Ya its just hot in here,” you speech starts to slur, suddenly feeling a bit more free and loose lipped, “I wan leave but I also don’t… I dunno…”.

He chuckles softly, “Oh is that so?.”. “Yaa… I think imma just take a nappp,” you slump against the chair and close your eyes. The last thing you hear before passing out is a soft “perfect” whispered in your ear.

__

Your eyes flutter open, catching glimpses of the scene before you. Vox was driving you somewhere while you sat limp against the seat. You couldn’t move or talk very well, only being able to function through sight; it almost like being in a state of sleep paralysis. “Voxxx?” you mumble out. He pulls into a driveway and parks the car. “Hey there, doll,” he coos, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Where are we goin’?”. Vox unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the car. He opens the door and carries you out of the vehicle, “My house, you passed out. I just wanna keep an eye on you and make sure your okay.”. “mffkayyy,” you lean against his arm as he carries you inside.

The house before you is rather large with beautiful foliage out in the front that was well kept. Modern furniture decorated the lavish house with at least 3 TVs just in the downstairs area. “ ‘S a big house. Hows it so big I thought priests were poor,” you say absentmindedly.

He chuckles softly as he carries you up the grandiose staircase, “The people donate to the church to pay me.”. You scoff, “Pfftt, donate what? Half their fuckkinn’ salary.”.

“Language,” he reminds sternly, “and yes.”. He carries you into a large master bedroom, the same lavish furniture with crosses riddled all over the walls. “You can lay here,” he sets you down on the soft mattress. “Thanks Vox urr nicer than I thought you’d be,” you smile at him.

Stepping out of his shoes, Vox crawls onto the bed with you and sits beside you. His soft large hands reach out to cradle your face. Sleepily you lean into his touch. “Mmmm,” you hum into his palm.

His hands snake down from your face to your waist and hoist you onto his lap. Your neck is eagerly peppered with kisses, hands sliding up your dress and onto your bare thighs. For a moment, you lean into his touch, “Vox… Mmph.“.

While one hand massages your thighs, the other works to unzip your dress. The cold contact of metal onto your skin briefly brings you back to your senses, “Vox, wait, no- We can’t-.”.

“Shh,” he continues undressing you, “don’t worry, let me make you feel good.”. You feel too weak to stop him, eventually just giving into his actions. The dress slips down your shoulders and is slid off your body. He quickly discards his priest garments and other clothing on the floor.

Grabbing a thigh in each hand, Vox spreads your legs and hovers over you. His thick veiny cock presses up against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip down his shaft.

He slowly enters your dripping pussy, “Ah… There we go.”. “Mmph~ Oh god-,” you moan out, your vision getting a bit hazy. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to accommodate for his size.

After a minute he rolls his hips into you, establishing a steady rhythm. You stare blankly at the ceiling, only partly focused on the pleasure winding up in your core. Every now and again you’ll moan softly as you watch the room spin. You flicker in and out of consciousness, unaware of how much time has passed or how long Vox has been going.

Grunts escape his throat as he pistons into you, his pace become more erratic as he got closer to orgasm. You were close too, your hips weakly bucking into his. “Thats it,” he says breathlessly, looking you in your glazed over eyes. His hips start to slam into yours, sending waves of pleasure over you as you came.

Your a bit overstimulated as he continues chasing his own relief, drawing out whimpers and moans from you. “Hnnf, Hnnnff~,” His hips start to stutter until he finally fills you up with his seed. Once Vox pulls out you feel the cum dripping out of you.

Releasing his grip on your thighs, he lays down on the bed and pulls you into a spooning position. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is the kiss Vox presses into your hair.

__

The next morning, you wake up around 10 with a pounding headache. Blinking your eyes open, you sit up abruptly. You were at home. “Vox?” you call out. No response. A hand shakily drags down your face, “F-Fuck… What have I done…?”. The weight of the situation sets in, mortification settling in your stomach.

Nausea washes over you and you quickly run out of bed to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet you throw up. You remembered being sick last night, you remembered everything from last night.

On the floor of your bathroom, you hug your knees and bury your face in your hands. You just had sex with a cult leader… Sobbing softly, you mutter to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore…”.

You wipe your tears and march to your type writer where you hastily finish that god forsaken story. Every last detail was thrown in, well, except for last nights events…

You don’t care if it has a billion spelling mistakes, you just want this to finally be over. Even if some part of you liked Vox, you’d never admit it. You could never be with him.

Throwing on whatever clothes you had out, you grab the freshly typed papers and sprint to your car.

__

The doors of the NYT office building fling open as you burst through them. “Woah,” a coworker comments, “what’s got you so-.”. You cut him off, “Go fuck yourself.”. Fuck that, fuck him. You’re not taking that crap anymore. The worker stands there in embarrassment and shock. He scoffs and mutters something as he retreats to his desk.

You march into Mr. Johnsons office and hold the papers up in the air, “It’s done!”. Mr. Johnson covers the receiver of the rotary phone, “Hold on-“. “Please!” you plead, wanting this to be done and over. He ignores you. No, you demand to be taken seriously for once. You walk closer to his desk and snatch the phone from him and place it down to end the call. “Y/N!” he yells, “you can’t just-!”. “Mr. Johnson just please read it over!” you beg.

He groans, “Fine!”. He snatches the papers out of your hands and reads over the report for a few minutes. Once he’s done, he hands them back to you, “Great, thanks.”. He gets back to work after dismissing you.

“I-Is that all?” you ask, “what about my future here at the company?”. “Listen doll,” he slides the papers he was working on aside for a moment, “you have a future at the company as a secretary.”. “What?! I worked for mo-“. “Frankly I don’t care,” he interrupts coldly, “this was just something to keep you occupied so you’d stop bitching!”.

“Why would you promise me a job then?!” you defend, tears welling up in your eyes. Mr. Johnson sighs, “Jesus- It’s company policy not to hire women anyway! And look at you, you completed one story and you look a mess! Your cryin’, snappin’ at employees, and you look wrecked. Why have that when a man can easily complete a job without all this drama? Now get out!”.

“But I-“

“Out!”

Clutching the papers in your hands, you begrudgingly walk out of the office. You hear the whispering and light laughter of the employees as you walk out. Tears flow down your cheeks, walking faster until you out of sight from the ridicule.

Once your outside you lean against the wall of the building and sob into your hands. You shake as you let everything out. All of that, for nothing. You felt like nothing, a nobody. You look at the papers in your hands, the words angering you and causing you to rip them to shreds. People pass by you, but you ignore the stares at your public breakdown.

You pull a pack of cigarettes out of your purse and light one. You shakily inhale, and exhale the somewhat soothing smoke. “Oh God,” you whisper, burying your face in your hands.

__

You sit in your car for awhile, not sure where to go. Should you go home? No, you don’t want to just sit their and be sad. Your friends wouldn’t understand, you hadn’t even spoken to them since you started this project. You start the car, and as if your hands had a mind of their own, you mindlessly drive to Vox’s estate.

You weren’t exactly sure how you remembered to get their, but suddenly, you were in front of the large estate once again. As you hop out of the car, your legs almost seem to turn to jelly as they wobble and shake. Wobbly approaching the door, you ring the loud doorbell.

The grandiose door swings open, revealing Vox in more casual wear then you’d previously seen, “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where-“. You cut him off, “I-I remembered from yesterday, somehow…”. His face turns pale at the mention of yesterdays events, “Wait you remember- Nevermind, why are you here?”. You sniffle, tears flowing down your face once more, “I didn’t know where else to go.”.

“Shh shh, hey,” he pulls you into a hug, ”what’s wrong?”.

__

Vox had you settled onto settled against him on the couch. You told him everything that happened. He nods slowly as you finish your story, “I see… Those report papers are shredded right.”. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I tore them up…I’m sorry.”.

“It’s okay, you’re forgiven,” he coos, “but why’d you come here?”. You shrug, "I didn't have anyone else to go to...". He nods and pulls you closer against him, "It's okay, you're here now. You're safe, trust me.".

"So, what now?" you ask softly, "are you gonna have me actually join the church now?". He chuckles softly, "Doll, you've already been in the church for a long time now. You just need to recommit your faith".

__

You had stayed with Vox for the past few weeks, listening to his guidance on how to live a happy and virtuous life. And it was working, you were happy. At first, you doubted everything. I mean this was surely a cult, right? Vox assured you that it wasn't, saying that "if your boss lied to you about your job as well, then why doubt that he lied to you about this being a "cult"?". He had a good point, and since then, you became a true follower of the church.

Vox had you cut off everyone, telling you that they were holding you back from your true potential. You believed him, they were holding you back.

The next few services had a whole new meaning for you, instead of judging them from an analytical perspective, you really engrossed yourself in the message. Vox was happy with your newfound piety, and planned to make you an elder of the church.

__

Becoming an elder requires a "swearing-in" ceremony in front of everyone. You were incredibly nervous, feeling sick to your stomach. Vox drove you to the church and felt your anxious energy, "Don't worry, my dear, everything will be fine.". You clutch your stomach, the car making you even more nauseous, "Vox I don't feel good...".

"It's just nerves, you'll be just fine," he softly reassures you, "let's pray on it, hm? Dear God,-".

__

You clutch Vox's hand tightly as he guides you onto the stage, the congregation eagerly watching as you become an elder. All 5 of the other elders in the church were on the stage as well. Evangeline smiles proudly as Vox prepares to make you an Elder of the Church, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She mouths, 'I'm so proud' to you as you approach the bible labeled "T.S.D". Vox has you put one hand over the bible and the other in the air. He speaks into the mic, "She will now recite the Elder oath.".

You must've recited it a hundred times before coming here to make sure to nail it, but you were preoccupied with the growing nausea you felt. As you recite the oath, you look awfully sick, your face pale and your body swaying slightly. "I, Y/N L/N, swear to adhere to the Church and fully commit myself to the church and Vox. If I fail to do this then- BLECH". Your nausea suddenly took over, the church watching in horror as you barf all over the fucking bible.

The whole church is silent, in shock over the situation. Vox's mouth is agape and his eyes are wide, not understanding what the fuck just happened. You didn't really understand either, all you did know was that if you didn't get out of there quick you'd throw up on it for a second time.

You dart to the nearest bathroom and barf into the sink. This definitely wasn't just nerves.

End

__

TAG LIST:

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@electronicexpertshark , @diffidentphantom ,

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-

its finally done! (tho there will for sure be a part two, but it def won't be as long).

this my Christmas gift to you guys so yayyy

if u enjoyed pls affirm me i worked hard ok bye

this shit is barely edited by the way so bye

[merakiui]

HI HIIII!!! ＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

i’ve read all of the messages on my beautifully decorated tree and OMG?!?!? so many sweet and lovely words that made my heart weep in a good way…… T^T 💕✨ i’m really so flattered and touched to receive so much love and support and holiday wishes from everyone,,, it made me smile to read each and every message.

i wanted to thank everyone who left a message (that i will cherish forever and always!!!!) but also everyone who reads and enjoys my writing, everyone who likes and/or reblogs my stuff, everyone who sends an ask, etc etc. it’s an honor to be welcomed so warmly and treated with kindness in this online space. i wish the best to anyone and everyone who reads this little thank-you. i’m so very grateful to all of you!!!!! being able to share my writing and exchange brain rots and be freaky with everyone is so fun!!! here’s to many more in the new year~~ ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ🥂

as for a smol update regarding halloweenie (skully fic) - my days became busy with the winter holiday, so for that i’ve been sparsely working on the draft. ;;;; but i’m determined to finish it in time for the new year’s posting!!!!! there are just a few scenes remaining, proofreading process, and then posting time!!!! >:D it’s a very fun and silly fic, so i hope you will love the shenanigans reader and the halloween crew gets up to.

it's time for the second year of tree!!!!! everyone left such kind messages on last year's tree and it made me happy to read all of them. i saw the beloved @yandere-romanticaa's tree for this year and realized it's already december. Σ(°ロ°)

so with that, please feel free to post a message on my tree! i look forward to sharing lots of festive spirit and good vibes with everyone~

[thewhizzyhead]

ya know, what made epic the musical such a joy for me personally is seeing it actually develop throughout its 4-5 year long history and I don't just mean like from the ground up and everything. I mean it in a way as someone who immediately clocked Jorge Rivera-Herrans as a fellow playwright heavily inspired by Lin Manuel Miranda's style - which fucking meant of course most of the early publicized drafts of epic were raps because of course they are (this is not meant to be a slight because like I totally get him)!

But like actually seeing Jorge apply the lessons in LMM's writing into his own original style that is befitting to the story he wants to tell - and not only that, he literally took his audience along with him on his journey with every tried-and-tested demo and audition and everything, and the actual pre-production and production process of writing an album is something we don't usually get at all, especially in something as extensive as a musical concept album!

Like what really had EPIC make it's mark on the internet and on musical theatre (especially INDIE MT) is that it was a literal Odyssey of sorts - the creation of this entire fucking thing was a journey from beginning to end and we were all invited to witness it from behind the scenes while also having many artists among fans be a part in its creation one way or another, while also observing how Jay had his own artistic development throughout - from someone whose epic was quite obviously heavily stylized after Hamilton, into an artist whose style he can call truly his own.

I have so much more to say on how and why epic became such an iconic piece of work and perhaps being the first MT work in 2020 to truly define the decade, but all in all let's just say I'm glad to have witnessed the growth of an artist - and I'm excited to see what art this will inspire in turn.

[spadillelicious]

Spadille!! 💭 what inspired you to create LDR?

(Hey Spike!! :D So sorry for taking forever to answer this...!!) To be honest, there are a bunch of different things that inspired me to make LDR!! Firstly, all the amazing creativity of the dca fandom inspired me to make my own AU. It just blows my mind to see all the wonderful art and writing created for our favourite celestial jesters every day! <3 Some AU:s that were especially influential to me that I would like to mention is @/venomous-qwille :s Ghost In the Machine AU and @/certified-handler :s Dealer's Choice AU.

I find Qwille's writing style incredibly painting and immersive, and it inspired me to get better at writing myself. I also really like the way they use music for some of their scenes! (that one scene where Misuta sings a line of Eurythmics' 'Sweet Dreams' hit especially different, and sent me down a rabbit hole of reconnecting with 80s synth music. I still haven't recovered over a year later haha <3 /lh )

And for Certi's writing, I cannot get over how good they are at writing scenes that just fill your heart with butterflies with how suave the dca are in their AU!! They're also really good at writing very tense, high-stakes scenes, and their AU has so many twists and turns that I always struggle to put the fic down <3 I really enjoy how the reader isn't sure who to trust out of Sun and Moon in their fic, which is something I wanted for LDR too :)

Besides the incredible works of the dca fandom, I also really like the aesthetics and nostalgia of the 80s and retro tech, which was something I wanted to include in my AU as well! I grew up with stuff like cassettes and VHS tapes (though not in the 80s), and reconnecting with that stuff felt... healing in a way I guess?

Speaking of 80s stuff, rollerskates have a special meaning to me as well. 

I grew up in a place where there are barely any places to rollerskate, but instead plenty of places to ice skate. It's cheap, and everyone knows how to. But I just suck at ice skating. I've tried to learn my entire life, and I still can barely stand on them.

When I was 15 though, I got to try rollerskating for the first time. There aren't any roller rinks where I grew up, but for PE class in high school, we could choose to rollerskate or play soccer. So I chose rollerskating, borrowed some knee pads and outdoor skates from a nearby YMCA, and for the first time I actually enjoyed skating. 

I still wasn't any good at it, but it was so much more fun than ice skating, and it felt like it was something that was much more... me than ice skating. I will always hold the memories of rollerskating around the lake, under the summer sun with my friends, close to my heart <3

And regarding what inspired the other, less sunny side of LDR... Maybe I'll talk about that some other time.

[spongeknife]

Timebomb: A look at supportive relationships with amnesia (a focus on DID)

I have been rewatching S2 Arcane, and of course Echo's scenes in E7 have left me with a special type of joy. So, coming from someone with DID, I'm looking at how DID effects relationships and what a supportive partner may look like. I would like to note, I do not think Echo has DID, nor do I wish to make that connection: But, Powder's perspective of Echo's changing behavior has a lot of similarities to my own real life experiences and I wanted to highlight that. Also the advice I give may not work for everyone. This is more a guide for partners who have no clue where to even begin, with examples, not a step-by-step instruction manual. I will do my best to go in order.

Alright, so I'd like to start at the beginning, where Echo is writing in his journal and seems to "become aware" of where he is. In Arcane, I understood this as our Echo taking over Powder's Echo. But, in a system sense, this can also be seen as "switching" (one part becoming aware of the body/taking control).

Now, I think in a lot of cases, these "switches" can lead to confusion and stress, as a part tries to piece together what is happening and who they are. It terms of relationships, Powder is unaware of this "switch" when she begins to talk with him. Much like a system, many switches can be very internal - leading a partner to not be aware of what is happening inside a person's head.

Powder, pretty obviously goes about conversation as she normally would, walking up to Echo with a smile and even making a joking quip. Echo, internally, is connecting Powder with Jinx, and I think the visual in the mirror depicts that really well. Much like a part who has switched in, Echo is relying on his old memories and is unaware of who this present "Powder" person is. I have experienced this as well, being unaware that a problem from the system's past is no longer a threat. Powder proceeds to process that Echo is clearly not okay (by the way he jumps back in defense) and tells him to relax. Even when Echo throws an object at her and grabs a screwdriver in defense, she does not attack back, instead just questioning why. Now, I do not think in a real world scenario any OBJECTS SHOULD BE THROWN, and I do believe Powder is a lot more patient than most people. (I know if my partner threw something at me, I would not just be confused and then move on).

But, in a less extreme example, Powder is staying true to who she is, and what her reactions are. I find in systems, when disorientation and stress happens, one of the best things a partner can do is be routine and patient. Or, even helping a part ground themselves (which we see later on). Powder is clearly upset and confused (I would even say hurt), but she doesn't become reactive. In the real world, I would not recommend just ignoring if a part has done something hurtful, but instead, disengaging or supporting until there is a better time to address it. In this case, when Echo does not respond to her asking what gives, she drops it (and I would recommend coming back to it when the person has a clearer head). What is not seen here that I would also recommend is coming up with clear boundaries and sticking to them BEFORE incidents happen. Having a sit down with your partner's system and letting them know what you are okay and not okay with, is a great way to show the system that there is stability.

System note: Now, I would also like to note there is a couple times, I as a system, liked to believe Echo has this reoccurring problem (or a similar one) because that's comforting. And, as a side note, one of those times is Benzo seeing Echo and saying, "one of those days, huh?" Benzo and Echo's relationship (familiarly) is also a great example of being a healthy support system, but that's a story for another time...

Now, continuing on, Powder is flexible. She does a good job (it seems at the moment, at least) with accepting this "different" Echo, and choosing to support him through verbal and physical affection. While in Arcane, Echo isn't very appreciative of her gestures, in the real world, being flexible is a good way to remove pressure from an already stressful situation (Imagine how this would've gone if she had snapped at him in that moment for being so distant), even if he doesn't believe it, Powder is showing she is still on his side through this (and, I believe this helps him open up later on).

Walking through the bar to sit with the group, Powder seems to be holding his hand as well. Again, using physical touch as a grounding tool to help guide Echo. She continues talking with him as she normally would, and when he seems dissociated from the conversation (going from partially aware to completely unaware), that's when she snaps to ground him again, out of concern.

She asks what's wrong, and notes that he's been out of it. In real life, many systems experience time loss - and, when switching or dissociating, may not even realize they are. Reaching out and describing how a part is behaving may help them realize something is off as well. Powder has been supportive, compassionate, and above all else, VERY patient. Echo opens up about how he feels ("waking up in the wrong universe"). All the small steps she's taken has helped him feel he can open up. (Again, imagine if she snapped or threw something back at him, in his eyes, equally viable options from her). Now, not all parts switching in may feel ready to open up, some parts may need a LOT more small steps, some may only need one. Her ability to come back and keep trying is a beautiful illustration of how much support people with systems or DPDR may need. AND, when he opens up, she reminds him of what he's been through (staying up all night). In real life, a part may be unaware of what the body's been through, and empathetically letting them know may help them adjust to the present. Along with this, Powder talking about sleep is, again, showing a partner is likely to be unaware of what is happening internally if the system does not communicate it. Given that, Powder still tries to reassure about what some current stressors may be (there being "plenty of time before the competition") and reminds him AGAIN, that they are a team ("we'll work out the kinks"). She goes to touch him and he flinches away, in reality, parts may be doing this because they are still not fully grounded. Again, if they have been living in the past (especially a trauma covered one), they're natural state is being on the defense. When a part dissociates they may be reliving their experiences silently, or even becoming unaware of their body - reverting to that naturally defensive state. Powder looks hurt at his rejection, which is completely valid. She still picks up the cup that gets knocked over, is still aware that now is likely not the time to talk about it, and doesn't degrade Echo in front of their friends.

Milo runs off, and Powder has a good reason to follow behind. I think it's a good reminder that, yes, it can be very tiring, and as a partner, it is not wrong to take breaks from situations. Sometimes, things are stressful, and taking a moment to do something else is NOT wrong. I know a lot of partners really want to stick through it with their partner's system, but please remember your own health is just as important. Go on that walk, hangout with friends, drink some water, write about it, whatever you need to do to regulate. Additionally, in this case, Powder is the direct stressor (it seems), and she's giving a break to Echo to process what is around him. Sometimes that's needed too, hopefully the system you're with tries their best to communicate when they need to take a step back (and they may need some help at times). Sometimes what a partner does CAN be an indirect trigger, but that does not mean that partner is to blame. System note: I'm going to skip over most of the parts where Powder and Echo aren't interacting. But, I would like to note as a system, I can relate to Echo not being present, instead being focused on something else. (When he redraws the anomaly over and over and OVER again), just a little tidbit that I can relate to. Along with Echo not wanting to be in the "present" moment. Powder, despite all the stressors, invites Echo into her routine (seeing Vi).

And, she does not show how confused or upset she may be feeling. Continuing to show him respect. Once they are in a private, safe (I assume it's safe to the original Echo and her) space, she tries to ask about why he's acting so distant. This is a good example of coming back to what happened later. She saw him talking with Heimerdinger and likely believes he is feeling better enough to talk with her. Now, in real life, a part may not be ready. That does not mean the partner should never check in about how they are feeling. Dating a system has a lot of trial and error, sometimes it's the right time, sometimes it's not. Now, if a system DOESN'T hold space for how you may be feeling (aka, EVERYTIME you try to check in it backfires), I would recommend a genuine conversation about it. Again, just because your loved one is struggling does not mean you as a partner deserve to feel like crap for trying to be supportive.

In this case, Echo wants to know about his present situation. Powder does a great job of summarizing for him and tries to help fill in the gaps she thinks he could be missing. In real life, again, a part may need help connecting to present day, letting them know what may be obvious can help them feel more grounded AND stable. Additionally, when Echo has doubts about Powder's character, she shows there's no reason to distrust her. She doesn't get offended by his questioning, instead just letting him know who she is, through the perspective of Echo. In real life, highlighting what a part has done with you can help them see that their system trusts. "You weren't gonna figure it out yourself", "You're the big idea guy." are both lighthearted ways to remind Echo who he is, and that he has trusted her in the past.

I'd also like to note, she continues with what she went there to do. She takes a lighter and heads over to Vi. She's not being dismissive, but she's also not cornering him, either. This emphasizes her reliability and trust, and shows Echo that she's not focusing in on him like a hawk. In real life, some parts who switch in may feel like they're just waiting to be punished, like they're just waiting to make a wrong move. By continuing routines, a part may feel the lack of attention means they don't have to be on defense. System note: "having an identity crisis again" is just adding to my previous notes LOL.

At Vi's altar, we see a great example of what to do in situations where a partner is getting hurt by a switch in (which can happen). Ekko is processing the fact Vi is dead AND Powder has been handling a lot of stressors that can come from switches (rejection, being treated like a bad guy, ect.). In this scene, Powder is clearly hurt, and, I believe she has every right to be hurt. Yeah, not every switch will be 100% great. That being said, I loved the way she handled it. She places a couple firm boundaries, like letting Ekko know what she doesn't want to talk about ("That's not funny Ekko" and "Just 'cause you're having a bad day, don't take it out on me."). She's letting him know how she's feeling, and without being mean, is letting him know she is reaching her limit.

She's upset, and to me, she has every right to be. Some systems/some parts I've met have a hard time recognizing that just because they are in pain means what they're doing can still have consequences. That is a seperate topic I could talk about for days, but in this case, I'm treating Ekko as a part who pushes boundaries. Ekko continues to ask questions about what happens. Yes, some parts may do this. The reasons are endless (maybe they feel this reality isn't real so who cares, it could be any reason), but at the end of the day, if you're interacting with a part that is pushing boundaries and you don't want to handle it, don't. I'm not saying walk away forever, but Powder does a great job if placing a final boundary, "You should leave." Again, she's being firm, she's letting Ekko know she doesn't appreciate what he's doing, but she's not going out of her way to attack him. When you're supporting a system with parts who push boundaries, it can be hard to not react back. But, imagine it much like arguing with a person without a system. I know very few arguments where attacking back has worked in favor of both parties, and that compounds when you're interacting with a system.

Now, in this case, Ekko leaves. But, what do you do when a part isn't respecting boundaries, if, hypothetically, Ekko didn't leave the room? I know this may not work for everyone, but I would stick to my own boundary. If I ask someone to leave the room, and they don't - choosing to continue a conversation in this case, I leave the room. Remember, again, your own stress and health is equally important, and it'll be hard to help anyone (including yourself) if you can't remove yourself from the high stress situation when you need to. If placing boundaries is hard, I would recommend practicing. I've at times, told my partners I would like to practice ending conversations and what not in low stress situations (letting them know so they don't feel rejected), so I can get used to being able to.

Following this, Powder is very clearly avoiding Ekko. When Ekko looks up she turns away. I think this is a good reminder that things parts do CAN have an effect on their surrounding support systems. I think it's good they show Powder is clearly upset by what Ekko has done. In real life, this can happen. Being a partner should not mean having to be 100% whatever emotion their partner's system needs. That's not very healthy or feasible. Again, it's okay to feel upset and hurt, especially if a part is doing something upsetting or hurtful. Powder doesn't go out of her away to attack Ekko or retaliate, and that's another good thing to keep in mind, even when it's hard.

The next scene we see with Powder and Ekko communicating is Ekko showing Powder the shrine he created of Vi. In a real life sense, a part may be trying to apologize OR may also be trying to show their partner that they are doing their best to be connecting to the present. Parts that are traumatized may have a hard time communicating complex emotions in a way that's understandable, so they may communicate through creative methods. Now, Powder does a good job of recognizing he's trying to apologize and open communication, so she does as well. And in that opening of communication, she learns more about Ekko and vice versa. In real life, this could mean a part opening up more, or just a part being more willing to be cooperative. Ekko, in this case, also stops recognizing Powder as a threat, and in real life, a part may begin to do the same thing. When Ekko talks about his version of Powder compared to the real version, it is very akin to a part trying to synthesize present day situations and past traumas/situations.

In turn, Powder opens up about her own feelings. In real life, opening up to a part may give new perspective on a situation, and can lead to a mutually supportive environment after a switch. In this case, Ekko is willing to hear Powder out and help her (giving advice), and Powder begins helping him with his own project. This goes back to those baby steps I mentioned at the beginning. If Powder hadn't continuously taken small steps to show she wants to be on a team with him, their conversation may not have gone like this. Additionally, now that a "team" foundation has been built, Powder and Ekko can build each other up. In this case, Powder bumps him with her shoulder, a form of physical affection he appreciates now that he's more grounded, compared to earlier that day where most physical touch was met with defense.

I think it's also good to recognize, Powder seems more willing to show support to Ekko in ways she didn't previously because they communicated.

Like the fact she chooses to sit across from him instead of next to him. This is a part of the flexibility I was talking about earlier. Because different parts may have different wants/needs/boundaries, being flexible can help both parties feel desired - instead of trying to continue things as if it were a previous part.

Another example of them now working as a team is Ekko supporting Powder at Vi's altar. Even though he has not experienced what she has (or doesn't remember it that way), he still recognizes it's importance to Powder and helps out. In real life, a part becoming aware of a partner's feelings and communication styles can also lead to moments like this, where a part who may not be aware of everything, tries their best to support you through your own struggles, even if it's not how your partner's system "typically" shows support.

Now, it seems in Arcane, Powder isn't fully aware of what Ekko is trying to build, but she still helps him to work through it. Now, in real life, a part who has switched in may have alternative goals compared to the rest of the system. In a case like this, where the goal isn't threatening or harmful, supporting that part can help build up that "team" based foundation. The part knows that even though you may not be their partner, you're still a safe person to go to in times of trouble, or just when they want a comfortable person around, even if there are no romantic feelings for them. This can be very important when high stress situations come about later, and can help parts open up about what's going on internally (because, remember, a lot of system communication/mental health is internal).

Additionally, because Ekko and Powder feel safer with each other, Powder feels okay asking questions. In real life, having a bridge of trust, even if it seems small, can lead to moments like this as well. Where a part feels open enough to answer questions, and not become defensive. Remember, at the beginning of this Ekko couldn't even be close to Powder without becoming defensive. These small steps have worked towards the goal of being able to communicate and trust each other, it's all built up.

Powder is clearly excited for what they've worked on together, because they're now a team (even if, again, it's not romantic like her Ekko). In real life, these connections can lead to those same feelings of excitement and commitment, even if it looks different from how it was with a different part.

We can also see that Ekko is open to how she likes to show affection (physical touch), and she's looking out for him ("Please go change before the party") because she understands and cares for him. Ekko also does change for the party, and in real life, this can be seen as a part caring right back. Following this is where they dance together, now she recognizes he dances differently ("Where'd you learn those moves?"), but still has a good time. Again, she's flexible and compassionate towards him.

Instead of choosing to be upset about how things are different, she accepts these differences and chooses to have a good time with Ekko. In real life, a part may do things differently - they may dance differently so to speak, but you can still enjoy what they have to offer (again, even if it's not inherently romantic).

Ekko thanks Powder. He was able to have a good time and experience something he thought couldn't be real. In real life, a part may be feeling the exact same way. They may feel their trauma memories, their past, clouds how the presents can be. By finding ways to support them and have good moments in the present, it can help them feel things do not have to be as bad as they've experienced. Along with this, Powder leans on his shoulder. She feels supported again as well, even if it's different. It took some work, but she's able to be vulnerable with him in the same way he's being vulnerable to her. And that's really important, even if the relationship between some system's parts aren't romantic, it's really important to feel like it's not completely one sided as a whole. Yeah, some parts may not be supportive like you're used to, but if you begin to feel resentment towards the system or feel like certain parts are ruining your relationship, I would recommend having a conversation about it. If you feel like you're not getting back what you're putting in, I would recommend having a conversation about it, because again, your feelings matter.

Moving on, they kissed. I don't necessarily want to focus on that. I want to focus on what happens right before. Powder goes in for a kiss, and Ekko rejects her ("Sorry, I..." and pulling back), and she looks hurt. She lets him know it's fine, but even while she's hurt, because they have that base "team" foundation, she waits patiently for him to explain. She doesn't just walk away, or lash out. She waits for him. And I think, a lot of systems, and certainly myself, just want someone to be willing to take it slow when we need. It's rough, and we recognize a lot of "typically" relationships don't have the amount of waiting that can be needed. But, truly, one of the most compassionate things I've experienced, is having someone gently pull the brakes and wait for me to be able to communicate.

Ekko communicates, he asks for her to "just pretend like it's the first time," but note, he looks hurt after asking. He seems to be waiting for rejection. In real life, a part may be like this. After the trauma they've went through, or the stress of switching in, they may just feel like they're waiting for the other shoe to fall. Ekko and Powder have worked towards being able to communicate towards one another, so he does open up, but that doesn't mean that feeling of anxiety goes away. This is part of why some parts may feel the need to take it slow, while others may be open and ready after only a couple steps.

Powder is flexible, patient, and kind to him. She is willing to pretend like it's the first time, and she doesn't act like it's some sort of chore. In real life, while a partner may be "pretending" it's the first time, please keep in mind that to the part that switched in it is the first time. It may be the first time for a lot of things (for feeling included, for being affectionally touched, for working with someone positively, for going out to a party, any of it). The good moments a partner chooses to have with a different part can help them feel more relaxed in the agitated state they've lived a lot of their life. Ekko grew up in a vastly different world, all of the kind things she is doing is completely foreign, and some parts switching in are the exact same way.

At the end, Powder sees him. In real life, in our time, I can't imagine being able to see other parts like this - where they have a physical body and what not. But, you may have a moment like this. A moment of recognition, of understanding. You might even have that moment without your partner's system knowing. You might find things you love (romantically or otherwise) that are different part to part. To keep the conclusion short, Powder does a wonderful job of showing patience, respect despite being confused, empathy, and compassion throughout this episode, and many moments shows kindness in unconventional ways. Please, remember to be kind to yourself, and of course, every system is different - so remember to communicate.

[aesthetictarlos]

I'm a bit late and it's not much but I couldn't not join this wonderful initiative. @alliwantforchristmasislou

I'm so glad and proud to be a part of this incredible fandom. I've been watching 911 since 2018 and I've always liked the show and the characters but I wasn't excited about season 7, I was feeling a bit "detached" from the show. I've started watching the new season anyway and when they brought Tommy back (shame on me, I didn't even remember him at first 😭) it was like the "911 spark" re-ignited inside me. I was excited and involved in a way I hadn't been in a while.

Tommy immediately drew me in and it's incredible because - unfortunately - he didn't have many scenes but Lou portrays and talks about him so passionately that it's impossible not to fall in love with him. I'm so glad I kept watching the show because now I have Tommy and Lou to cherish.

I've been writing fanfics for years but I swear that I've never felt so inspired before and I've never received so much support and appreciation. I'm incredibly grateful for all the people I got to know thanks to Buck and Tommy and I'm so glad we're still here, no matter what. I've been in and out of different fandoms for years but the BuckTommy one truly is something else. 🥹

There's a lot more I want to say but words are failing me so I just want to say two more things: the first one is that I really, really hope to see Tommy Kinard again because we (and Buck!!) deserve him and the second one is that... ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS LOU ❤️