#they hadn't even opened up whole sections

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP Fic Idea: Mr. Flavor's Soda

Danny gets thrown into an alternate dimension.

Which, sucks especially when he was just flying through the ghost zone on an exploration and had been attacked by a tribe of ghosts he had never seen before.

They looked surprisingly human, were it not for their horns and wings. Danny hadn't seen them coming, one moment he was looking at the Infinite Map trying to find his way back to the main section of the zone and the next he was being hurled to the ground from a flying net.

He hit the ground hard, with a startled yelp, as the ghosts surrounded him, each welding a sharp looking spears.

Danny wasn't sure what the net was made of, but it had forced him back into Fenton and deactivated his powers.

The tribe had been chanting in a language he could not understand, dragging him through their village as various creatures with similar features peaked out at him.

He been a helpless human staring up at the crowd as they sang and danced around a stone statue. Then a woman wearing a lovely golden leaf head piece stood up, and all went silent.

She gave what Danny thinks is a speech, waving her arms up and above her head. The crowd ate it up, cheering whenever she took a pause. The woman pointed to the stone as it began to glow, bowing it while flapping her wings.

Danny watched the crowd copy her actions intrigued by the strange festival until two large men flew over to him and lifted up his net. Their wings flapped in tune with the drums that picked up, carefully flying Danny over the crowd who all chanted and gently grazed their hands along his net covered body.

Danny felt unease, especially when the little tour ended with him dangling before the flowing stone that ripped open to a portal. It was ink black instead of the ussual green and horror creeps into his mind as the woman waves a staff over his head, the jingle of the bells attached to gently shaking.

Then the men through him through the portal. Danny's screams are drown out by the drums, stomping and joyful songs of the tribe that attacked him.

He has been sacrificed. He thought it would be the end, but instead, he wound up falling into a dumpster in a dirty alley back on Earth.

It took ages to wiggle his way the net, but by that point, Danny was too grateful to be alive to really care. When he stumbled out of the alley he came to find it was not his Earth.

His Earth did not have a place called Gotham. He been sent to a wrong universe, which wasn't the first time, but this time his powers were out of reach, locked within due to whatever net they had shoved him into.

The net disintegrated before his eyes, not even allowing him to study.

Danny was pissed. He wandered the streets, hoping to find help. All he had on his person was his student ID (which meant nothing if his school didn't exist) his broken phone and the credit card he had stolen from Vlad.

Testing the card at a gas station for a bottle of water, he held his breath as the clerk ran it and almost collapsed in relief as it went through.

Too bad the card had a limit of three thousand. He knew since he checked when he took it. It would be enough for a little while, but who knew with the economy in this world for how long. Everything was much more expensive, even the bottle of water was two dollars and fifty-five cents when back home it would have been Ninty five cents.

Danny needed a plan. He stumbled to a run-down motel and got a room wincing at the nightly rented it. Thank goodness the front receptionist didn't ask for an ID, as he checked him in.

Danny spent three whole days like this, trying to get Phantom to come forth from whatever lock he was stuck behind and wandering Gotham looking for anything familiar.

Eventually, Danny got a craving for a Coca-cola, and when he tried to find one, he came to the horrifying realization that his favorite drink did not exist. Not in this world.

Thank goodness Danny knew how to make some homemade version of it. He bought the supplies, telling himself it was worth the slight dent in his funds.

The receptionists at the motel startled when Danny breezed by carrying a lab kit (he only knew how to make it in a chemistry set since Tucker and he did it for a school assignment) and various groceries. She gave Danny an alarmed expression when he stumbled out a few hours later drinking his black liquid heaven.

Danny hadn't noticed she had gone for her phone with a pale face and shaking hands as he wandered around the city. He only realized something was wrong when he came back later that evening, carrying more supplies, determined to regain his various soda flavors he missed since his displacement.

As he was working, his rented room looked like a miniature lab as various sodas were carefully crafted. The following morning as Danny was attempting to scare his powers back into action by leaping off low fire escape he noticed a group of kids watching him.

They were just a filthy as Danny, so likely as homeless as him. Danny choose to ignore them as he raced up and down the stairs, doing flips to try to get his ghost side back. Eventually, a younger one creeper closer, staring at the re-purposed water bottled filled with his precious soda.

"Whats that stuff?" The kid asked eyeing the homemade cola with far too much interest.

"Cola" He responds, curious why the kid would get near someone who looked, honestly, insane. He would never have gone near someone taking two story jumps but that's just Danny.

"Is it strong?" The kid asks

Danny blinks. " I don't think so? I've been drinking it for a while, so it's pretty tamed for me"

"Where you get it?"

"I made it."

The kid nods, hand stuffed into his pocket before pulling out a crumbled twenty bill. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much for a bottle?" The kid asks, voice taking a sudden desperate tune.

Danny eyes the bill "I don't have any change. Just take the bottle. I can make more."

The boy's eyes bug out of his skull but he grabs a bottle and scrambles back to his group as if though he was worried Danny would change his mind. Odd.

The group of kids share the bottle between. They drink it quickly, some making faces as the carbonated bubbles go up their noses but happy.

The bottle is empty too quickly, and the kid comes stumbling back. "I know you said you didn't have change, but how many bottles could this buy me?"

Danny stares, and then he looks down at his haul. He has seven bottles left - one for each kid if he counted them right. "Look bring me smaller bills next time but for now just take the drinks"

"What kind of drug is it, if you dint mind me asking?" The boy says politely and Danny startles so hard he bangs his head on the metal latter.

A swears escapes his lips as the tiny boy- he could be no older then ten!- stiffens as if frighten. The group of kids behind him all become weary.

"It's not drugs! It's soda!"

"Soda?" The boy repeats confused then shrugs. "Sure man. Thanks!"

Taking all the bottles, the boy scrambles away, leaving the alley with his group as they all cheer. Danny shakes his head at them. This place is wild. He goes back to his jumps and ends up with more bruises than glowing powers.

But the following week the boy and his group retrun each carrying ones. Danny sells them more Cola for a dollar a piece encouraging them to save their bottles since he was running low. Then the week after that and the week after that, each time the group getting bigger.

Soon Danny starts to add different flavors, he hasn't found Sprite, Fonta or Dr.Pepper and he tries his best to bring the flavors back into this world. The kids loss their minds over it.

They nickname him Mr.Flavor since Danny forgets to introduce himself and now the little demons refuse to use his name even when he tells them. Danny realizes something weird is going on when adults start popping up in his alley also looking for a bottle.

He ends up making a steady income, walking home with a wab of cash. This is great since he is pretty sure he's near his card limit. The receptionist still eyes him with weary eyes but hasn't said anything as Danny builds a steady fulling for his drinks.

That's why when he wobbles back to his rented room now covered in even more reckless bruises, he is shocked to find his soda lab smashed to bits and a man in a red hood waiting for him.

"What the hell!" He yells as the man pointed a gun at his head.

"You think you can set up shop in my territory?" The man's growl is able to hear even with the voice changer.

Danny bristles "I can sell my soda wherever I want-"

"Soda?" The guy pauses, looking down at the various liquids sinking into the carpet. Before Danny can yell at him, the man reaches down and grabs two water bottles of every flavor. He walks backward to the smashed window - likely how he got in - with the gun still trained on Danny. "If this is anything other than Soda, say goodbye to your knee caps"

Danny lifts his chin "Shoot me. I'll turn ghost!"

The man says nothing as he flips backward through the window and vanishes into the night. Danny huffs, taking stock of the damage.

All his very small earthly possessions except for his three pairs of pants and shirts ( bought from a second-hand store with his soda money) were all ruined. He stumbles down to the front to report the damage, and the lady at the front actually shakes while telling him that they don't mind the damage.

Danny gives her a fifty as a thanks.

He tells the people the next day what happened. They all make faces and groan when he says it'll take time to replace his supplies. It's three days later that he finds the same helmet man in his room again. He was hit by a car earlier that night in a very desperate attempt to active his powers so he limps in, half sure he broken a bone or two.

The driver had speed away. A hit and run that hopefully won't be reported so no one will know Danny had noticed the driver was drunk and chose to get hit.

Danny spreads his arms "shoot me! Do it!"

Surely being shot would get Phantom back

The man shifts uncomfortable on his feet. "I'm not here to shoot you. I'm here to apologize. I tested your drinks and realized they were soda after all."

"So you smashed my stuff without verifying what it was? Lord of the flies you're evil!"

The man pauses. "Lord of the flies?"

"It's a classic. Read a book, pill head"

The man laughs. "I read plenty brat. Anyway, I brought you some gifts as a apology"

He pulls a tarp of a pile that Danny hadn't noticed in the dark. He gasps in delight when he sees state of the art chemistry sets all set up on a nice big table. He scrambled to the layout, eyes gleaming on the different syrups.

"This is awesome!" He chirps, picking up test tubes and checking thier quality. His mom would approve. His eyes catch a box underneath the table, which he quickly pulls out.

Inside are empty, new plastic disposals bottles. The lable has a shadowed leaping boy over the words "Mr. flavor Soda"

Danny gasps.

"I thought you needed a brand name." The man says, handing him a paper. "When you run out, go to this recycling place. They know to give you new bottles with your lable. Also, carry that sellers permit, or the cops will give you trouble. You know Anthony's Pasta?"

Danny gapes at the paper, blinking slowly. "No?"

"It's in Crime Alley. The Italian restaurant at the corner. They'll agreed to let you sell your drinks in thier lobby every Friday and Monday from opening to closing. There should be a light board in one of the boxes. Set up a menu for that day."

"What? Why would they agree to that?"

Danny can't see his face, but he thinks the man is smirking. "They owe me a favor or two. Do you best, kid, and stay off the streets"

"I'm not a kid. I'm fourteen, " Danny says, lifting his chin.

"Sure." The man steps back towards the window. Which seems to have been fixed in the nine hours Danny was out. Odd. "And kid? Please go to the free clinic."

He throws a business card with the clinics information before he vanishes into the shadows again.

Danny is left standing there with endorsement for a bubbling soda business with a shock expression.

Well, at least he has something to make some cash while getting his powers back.

[swampjawn]

Dungeon Meshi just keeps getting more consistent as we get closer to the dragon.

(^Another beautiful cut from Kai Ikarashi, who did the childhood memory sequence from the living armor fight, as well as a bunch more from that episode)

The first half of episode 8, focusing on Marcille and Falin's magic school days, can't help but feel very reminiscent of TRIGGER's past work on Little Witch Academia.

In fact it was a fitting crew for this episode, because episode director Yuuichi Shimodaira, storyboard artist Yuuki Yonemori, and of course series director Yoshihiro Miyajima all had significant roles on Little Witch Academia (Shimodaira and Miyajima directing several episode each, and Yonemori doing key animation).

Yonemori even mentioned on Twitter that it felt nostalgic.

This whole section is all about character acting, and draws a stark distinction between the body language of Falin and Marcille.

This straightforward little cut of tiny Falin carrying her dungeonium illustrates her whole essence through simple character acting. You can infer that she's carefree and whimsical from the way she bounces up and down with each step, and that she's physically kinda weak from the way she sways a little as she lifts the jar onto the desk.

And same with this walk cycle when they enter the tiny dungeon! She wobbles clumsily back and forth and her cheerful confidence shows that she's done this dozens of times before,.

If you were to draw a straight line from her head through her spine, it would rotate back and forth, pivoting at the feet rather than the hips, which makes it feel like she's not really bending her legs as she walks.

Meanwhile, Marcille carries herself in a way that's much more reserved.

But she sees an openness in Falin that she hadn't considered as a possibility, and in the modern day, we can see that she's influenced by her. She's mostly dropped the air of importance and dignity, and now allows more of her own clumsy, energetic nature to shine through.

In fact you could see this burst of energy (the type of frantic jerky movements that we see her do all the time in the modern day) earlier as the first instance where she was inspired by Falin and momentarily couldn't contain her excitement.

There's more yummy animation analysis juice where that came from, because I broke down the whole episode in this video! (and the second half is where the animation really starts to be off the proverbial chain) Thanks for reading and watching if you're interested!

[mellowmistt]

birthday trip-matt sturniolo

Summary: After two long weeks without seeing each other, Matt can’t wait to be alone with you.

Warnings: smut; fluff; established relationship; p in v sex; bondage kink; oral (m receiving); teasing

A/N: this story is based on @reirei-purple ‘s request! (Sorry I don’t know how to do the link thing yet otherwise I’d link the post). This isn’t fully proofread yet so sorry for any mistakes!

——————————

I jump into Matt's arms as soon as he opens the door.

"Ahhh I missed you!" He says hugging me tight. I hadn't seen him in two weeks as I went on a work trip, but tomorrow was his, Nick and Chris's birthday and we were going on a trip to Vegas to celebrate. Madison had booked a 5 star hotel for us all to stay at, it would be the perfect end to a long and tiresome week.

"Go upstairs i'll get your bag" Matt says pulling away.

I jog up the stairs where Madison runs to hug me.

"Oh my gosh I feel like I haven't seen you in so long!" She says with a smile.

"I knowww, I've missed you, thankyou for booking this trip you are amazing." I say, before hugging Chris and Nick and Nate who were waiting by the couch.

"Okay come on, we've got a long trip and it's already seven" Matt says appearing from the top of the stairs.

It was seven at night, and I kinda liked the whole late night roadtrip, but obviously since it's summer it would still be light until about nine anyway. The drive to Vegas is four hours, so we'd get there pretty late.We all shoved our bags in the back of the car, some had to also go on the back seats as there were six of us travelling, but only five seats now available.

Madison was driving, Chris was in the passenger seat, Nick and Nate had already seated in the middle section which left me and Matt with the back seats.

"I'll just move the seat back a bit and you can sit on my seat with me, there'll be plenty of room" Matt says as he observes the mess of luggage splayed across the seats.

"Ok" I reply.

We only had an hour left until we were in Vegas. Chris was chatting with Madison and listening to music in the front, Nick and Nate had headphone sin whilst they watched a movie together and Me and Matt were awkwardly sitting on the same seat, I was sat inbetween his legs holding the Ipad up so that we could watch a movie together.

Suddenly, the car started shaking, I abruptly removed my headphones and observed the road, which mainly consisted of bumpy rocks.

"Shit, sorry guys bumpy road" Madison says looking through the rearview mirror.

"Oh my god" Matt whispers, holding onto my waist in an attempt to steady ourselves. I then realised that my body was rubbing up gainst him, against his crotch area. I quickly leaned forward, turning to face him.

"Shit, sorry!" I whisper.

"No no, come back" He whispers, grabbing my waist and repositioning me back inbetween his legs.

"I don't mind" He whispers into my ear. "I've waited long enough"

I move my hips back slowly, pushing myself onto him further with a grin. I pull the ipad screen back up to avoid any suspicion. I felt Matt's breaths on my neck getting more choppy, he moves his hand away from my waist and down to my thigh and squeezes it. The bumpy road ends, and I start to move my hips back and forth slowly against Matt. I already felt him start to harden underneath me. I stopped my movements, he was gonna have to wait.

We finally made it to the hotel, it was fancy. There was marble flooring everywhere, it was lit up bright, and there was even a glass elevator next to the main lobby. We checked in and were assigned to a big suite on one of the top floors. Holy shit.

Chris opened the main door to the suite and we were all amazed by what we saw. It looked like something out of Gossip Girl. Our faces lighted up as we walked around our home for the weekend, inspecting all of the treats the hotel had left for us. There were three bedrooms, just the right amount for us; Nick and Madison in one, Chris and Nate in one and Me and Matt in one.

We all decided we would go down to the hot tub for a bit and chill. I rummaged through my bags as I got to mine and Matt’s room, pulling out my baby pink bikini which I luckily packed last minute. I went into the bathroom, leaving the door open enough for Matt to watch me undress. Part of me felt bad for teasing him this much, knowing how long it has been since we were last in bed together, but then again it would make it ten times better for him later with all of this buildup.

“Hot” Matt says sliding through the door, already in his swim shorts, he comes to help me tie the back of my top.

“Can’t we just stay in our room” Matt pleads, wrapping his arms around my stomach and leaning over my shoulder, planting a kiss on my neck.

“We’ll have plenty of time in here later” I reply, turning my head to kiss him, pulling him out of the room.

We were the last ones to the hot tub, awkwardly climbing in mid discussion. I lean my head back as I take in the warm water as Matt places his hand on my thigh. I subtly face him and smile before joining the conversation.

About twenty minutes had passed, Matt’s hands gradually trailing higher up my thighs. Thankfully the bubble jets were on, so no one could see. His fingers traced my bikini line, until they rested over my bikini bottoms. He started to moved his thumb up and down slowly.

“I’m gonna go to bed now, I’m so tired” Madison says, climbing out. Nick follows, Chris and Nate also leave a few minutes later.

As soon as they are out of sight Matt grabs my waist and pulls me onto his lap, immediately attatching his lips to mine.

“The past two weeks have been so boring without you” he says, playing with my bikini top straps.

“I could say the same” I say, brushing my hips closer to him, I knew this would be the final push for him.

Without warning he scoops me up and climbs out, rushing to our room.

I giggle as carries me through the hallway, quickly shutting our bedroom door behind him and dropping me onto the bed.

“Look what I found in those care hampers earlier" He says, walking towards the nightstand and pulling out a cylinder box.

"Intimacy kit?" I say, reading the fancy cursive on the top before twisting off the lid. I pull out the black bag which had condoms, lube, a towel, a blindfold and dice inside.

"What the fuck!" I chuckle, intrigued by the dice. On each of the sides there were names of different positions.

"Wow" I say, showing Matt one of the dice as he climbs onto the bed.

"Oooh cowgirl, my favourite" He says smiling at me.

He takes the box away from me, placing it onto the nightstand before grabbing my waist and pulling me on top of him. I lean down and kiss him,my hand trailing down his chest. I grind my waist against his and feel him harden against me after a few seconds. I reach one hand down and tease him over his shorts grinning between our kisses.

I stop, and smile with an idea forming in my head. Matt looks at me smiling but confused. I reach down and grab the blindfold from the box and slowly wrap it around Matt’s head.

“What are you doing” he says through giggles.

“Shh, just relax” I whisper before moving down his body. I reach the waistband of his shorts and began tugging on them, pulling them down. I gently rub his lower length for a few moments before putting him in my mouth. My tongue glides smoothly around his tip, before I descend further. He is smiling through small muffled whines when I glance up to his head. His hands reach down and start playing with my hair, his breaths again become more demanding. I speed up, maximising the stimulation.

“Oh..fuck” he whispers, his mouth now gaping in reflex.

I could feel him throbbing in my hand which was caressing his lower length still, just moments before I felt his warm liquid burst into my mouth. He let out a moan, and followed with deep breaths. I swallowed and wiped my mouth, smiling before going to kiss him again. I move my mouth to his neck, allowing him to continue to regain his breath. He unties my bikini top and throws it onto the floor, and I lift my hips as he pulls off my bottoms.

I wait a few more moments before lowering myself onto him, using my saliva already on his tip to help. I descend slowly, watching his mouth gape open again at the unexpected second stimulation. He grabs onto my hips as I start to speed up, feeling him brushing against my sweet spot nearing my orgasm, his small moans indicating he was nearing his second.

It wasn’t long after that the euphoric sensation was fulfilled. I grind forward and back slowly as we both come down from our high, our rapid breaths wavering.

I glance down at my phone, the time read 00:04. I remove the blindfold from Matt and he meets me with a smile.

“Happy birthday” I say.

“Best birthday present ever” he says with a grin.

We both cuddle up and drift to sleep.

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 4]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.9k

Summary: Sometimes actions have consequences for your fragile body, your morning getting off to a sore start. The day thankfully offers you a calm morning, a long-overdue conversation, and a desperate Wooyoung bringing laughter to everyone, in his own special way.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, voyeurism

A/n: Apologies for how long it took me to post this chapter, I kept editing and rewriting different sections of it because I wanted it to be perfect. I realized recently how much this series means to me, I think because of how much I relate to the main character, and the kind response I've gotten from all of you <3 I'm so glad to be finally posting, and will definitely continue to write the other parts I've planned. I really hope you all enjoy!

Linked here is my masterlist where you can find the previous parts. Again let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (it will be six parts in total if everything goes to plan)

Taglist: @certifiedmoa @pautiny27 @luvbit3z @dawn-iscozy @artistic-rendition

@yeosangiess @drinkingrumandcocacola @smally97 @kierraperkins3 @newworldwritings

@peachyy-jooniee @lucid-galaxys-world @arigakittyo @staytinyroha @yoonjikim

You wake in a blurry haze, the early morning light shining gently in through the window. You wonder for a moment if another storm rolled in last night, if the light is so soft because the sky is blanketed in clouds. A quick glance at your phone tells you it's just the light of dawn, the sun not risen enough yet to fully brighten the room. You groan internally, wishing your body let you sleep in after the crazy day you'd just had. You lay awake for a while, eyes still closed, as you hear Yunho's steady deep breaths of sleep. You try to let your mind rest more, but soon you can tell there's no point, your brain desperately chewing through every intense conversation you'd had the day before. As quietly as you can you sit up and scoot yourself off the bed, rubbing your eyes as you walk yourself to the bathroom.

Immediately upon standing you notice the feeling, a slight soreness deep in your core. It almost doesn't feel bad, at least initially, and it makes you giggle to yourself, remembering your previous night. You hadn't expected Yunho to fuck you so hard, and truthfully you loved it. Miraculously your body had been able to take it, maybe even needed it because of the emotionally exhausting day. But you also knew you might pay a bit of a price for it now. You'd certainly joked with people like Ari, or Wooyoung, about being fucked so hard you could still feel it the next morning. And in theory it sounded like the best case scenario, like something everyone would want. But now that you were here it also felt a little concerning, that your muscles were that sore.

You were quiet in the bathroom as well, not wanting to wake anyone in the living room. You carefully clean your thighs, wiping a damp towel over them, and gently brushing it past your core to clean yourself there as well. Immediately the contact feels a bit painful and you wince, frustration bubbling in you as you breathe deeply, taking a moment to let the pain subside. No matter how many times you try to pretend it isn't true, your body always has a way of reminding you how fragile and delicate it is. With a sigh you finish up, tossing the towel in the hamper, then washing your hands. Making your way back to the library, you open and close the door as carefully as possible, gently settling yourself down on the pull out couch that hadn't been used now in days.

You hadn't had a chance the whole trip to crack open your book, and with the chaos of the previous day some calm, focused reading sounds oh so perfect. You grab it out of your bag and begin reading, the sun slowly brightening as the day starts to bloom. Yunho is still sound asleep, his breaths so gentle you almost forget he is there. Eventually your stomach grumbles and you head out to the kitchen, being met with Seonghwa and Hongjoong sipping their first coffees of the day.

If you're entirely honest, it feels a little uncomfortable seeing them, especially Hongjoong. Though you tried the previous night to just move on, to forget what happened, the tension still lingers, especially now that you know so much of why Hongjoong acted the way he did. You aren't sure if he's told Seonghwa anything yet, and you don't want to say anything that could make things awkward between them, so you decide you'll take your breakfast and head outside, hopefully getting to spend a little more peaceful time by yourself. With a quick hug to both of them you head out to the fire pit, your tea in one hand, breakfast in the other, and book tucked precariously under your arm.

It's refreshing sitting outside by yourself, under the shade of the forest trees, your book the only company you have. You normally spend a lot of time alone, so sometimes on these trips you get a bit overwhelmed by everyone. As the sun begins moving across the sky the day gets warmer, Yunho's hoodie now feeling a bit too heavy. You realize you've been wearing it for days now, and probably should change into something else. But you kick that thought aside, relishing the feeling of being in it. You don't entirely understand your own feelings yet, but something about wearing his clothes feels perfectly right.

"Hey, nerd," you hear Yunho say, lifting your head up to see him walking over towards you, his own breakfast in hand.

"Hi," you respond, smiling at him, but returning to your book. You were just nearing the end of a chapter, and you really wanted to finish it.

"You'd rather read then talk to me?" he jokes, plopping down in a chair next to you.

"Just give me like two minutes," you say, eyes still not leaving the page. Yunho just nods and starts wolfing down his breakfast, glancing over at you occasionally to see if you're really that focused. Apparently, you are, which is something he loves so much. As much as he jokes with you, he finds it precious how lost you get in the things you read.

"Ok, we can talk now," you say brightly, sliding your bookmark into the page you just finished. It makes Yunho chuckle, his eyes bright with adoration.

"I wanted to ask you a question," he says, quickly taking another bite.

"Okay," you respond, not sure where he is headed.

"I wanted to see if you felt okay with everything that's been going on, you know, between us. Make sure I haven't crossed any lines," he says.

"Not at all," you say, looking back at him. You seem reluctant to talk much this morning, which isn't like you, and Yunho feels a bit concerned. But he really wants to know where your head is at; he just honestly didn't think he'd be the one to have to bring this up. You were the one who was so good at talking about your feelings, but you hadn't said anything specific about it yet. Well, maybe you did that night you both said 'I love you,' but nothing had been said since.

"So how are you feeling?" he asks.

"Well my vagina hurts, but otherwise pretty good," you laugh, adjusting yourself in your seat to try to alleviate the soreness.

"It hurts?" he asks, with genuine concern.

"Like it's sore, you know, from last night's activities," you say, cringing at yourself. You didn't feel like you couldn't say 'it's sore from you fucking me so hard,' but some part of you wishes you did.

"In a good way? Or bad way?" he asks.

"Um, kind of both?" you respond, not really sure yourself. "I don't hate it but it's, well, worse than ideal. I have to be careful when I sit," you say, trying to keep yourself from laughing again.

"What's so funny?" he asks you, thankful to see you laughing and not grimacing in pain.

"I just never imagined actually having this conversation with somebody," you say, smiling. You appreciate when ridiculous moments happen, and remind you that life doesn't have to be so serious all the time.

"Was I too rough?" he asks, making you giggle again.

"No, I liked it," you say. "I mean, I guess maybe, I just... I haven't really had this happen before," you say, still laughing. "It's probably cause your dick is, um, so big." You turn to see Yunho fighting to keep a smile off his face at your comment, his head turning away from you for a moment.

"Was it just too hard? Or too long?" he asks, making you burst into laughter harder. "I mean, how I fucked you y/n, not my di- ugh," Yunho covers his face, his cheeks reddening some.

"You're being so funny right now," you say. You can't help but find it terribly adorable how awkward he can sometimes be.

"I'm trying to be serious," he says, fixing you momentarily with a stern grimace, which only makes you both laugh harder. After a few moments you both calm down, making eye contact again.

"For real though, I don't want to hurt you. Was I too rough?" he repeats, truly wanting an answer.

"No, you really weren't. I liked it, I liked it a lot. It felt really good. Sometimes, with the way my body is, I have to sacrifice the future days of pain for doing something I really want to do. Sometimes I feel it's worth it. If I spent my life trying to prevent myself from ever feeling pain, I'd never get to do certain things. And obviously I have to be careful how often I do things like that, because usually it means I have to recover for a day or two, or even longer. But I can do it occasionally. I can deal with pain, extremely well," you finish, emphasizing the last two words.

"But I don't want sex with me to cause you pain," he says, eyeing you. "Is that really worth it to you? Aren't there things we could do that wouldn't hurt you?" he asks.

"Well, honestly part of the problem last night was probably that I just like, put your dick inside me without any warm up. Which was on me, I take full responsibility. But like, if you finger me first, it helps the muscles relax. Just doing that probably would have prevented most of this pain," you say.

"Thank you for telling me that," he says, his mind intently focused on every words coming from your lips.

"I liked what happened though, it was very..." you trail off.

"Feral?" he asks, making you laugh yet again. You put your face in your hands remembering everything, especially the way he grabbed you and flipped you over, and the sounds he made in your ear when he finally came.

"Yeah, I liked that," you giggle, face still hidden. You sigh into yourself, basking in the feeling of this conversation. You never thought you'd be having it with Yunho, and you realize that despite everything you couldn't be more comfortable. He knew you so well, and explaining all of this to someone who didn't know you at all would have been ten times more complicated.

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," he suddenly says, his tone completely different. You quickly put your hands down, turning your body in your chair to face him, as he sets his plate down on the ground, turning to face you as well.

"What is it?" you ask, trying to keep yourself from tensing up.

"I- I don't really know how to say this, I'm sorry if I start rambling. I just, I just need to say this, even though I think you already know, but in case it isn't clear. I-" he takes in a shaky breath, quickly letting it out. "I love you, obviously, I have for many years. But I'm also in love with you, and I don't know if you realized that. That's why certain things just keep coming out of my mouth, when we're having sex, and I'm sorry if it's weird. It doesn't seem to bother you but, I know we hadn't talked about it. I like calling you baby, it feels right, but if you want me to stop, or you want any of this thing, between us, to stop, you just say the word. I don't want anything that I ever do, or say, to make your life worse. You already deal with so much shit all of the time, and it would be my worst nightmare to know that I'm adding to that." Out of nowhere you feel a tear hit your cheek, quickly followed by one hitting your bare thigh. Yunho is staring at the ground between you, not able to stomach seeing your reactions in real time. "Above all I love you, and I want you to be happy, and even if tomorrow you tell me you never want to sleep with me ever again, I'd still love you, I'd still want to live with you and be your friend. I'm serious, I mean that. I would not hold it against you, I would not make things awkward. I don't feel like you owe me anything, at all. But you should also know if you want me to be more than a friend to you, I would gladly oblige. I know I should have probably told you this before we started having sex, but..." finally he trails off, looking up at you.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he says seeing your tears, thinking he's upset you.

"No, don't apologize," you squeak out, trying to get ahold of your breathing.

"What's wrong?" he asks, coming to kneel next to you, taking your hands in his.

"I- I don't know," you croak, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You truly don't know why you suddenly burst into tears, after having such a calm morning. What Yunho said was sweet, unbelievably so. Your head spins, all the conversations from yesterday again playing through your head, like twenty radios going at the same time. It's incredibly overwhelming when your brain does this, and you grab your ears momentarily to try to make it stop. Yunho wipes the tears from your cheeks, sitting patiently as you calm yourself, as you finally wipe what you think are the last of the tears with the sleeves of his hoodie.

And when you finally look up you're met with big brown eyes that feel like they're looking into the depths of your soul, making your heart ache with a feeling so intense you can't name it. Suddenly the world slows, everything stops. It's just him and you, in this vast forest, and everything feels alright, like it's meant to be. Suddenly you're not feeling your sticky sweaty skin under the hoodie, or the ache in your core. You can't feel any of it when sat in front of you is your favorite person in the entire world. It hits you like a train, that realization. You'd never get over how kind he was to spend nights in the hospital with you, when you were so out of it you hardly remembered a thing. You could have said anything; you knew you acted strange when you were there. But still he was there for you, still he treated you the same. This beautiful, tall, talented man who could have been doing anything he wanted with his life. You could imagine doing everything with him, imagine living with him forever. You couldn't trust him more or respect him more if you tried. You realized the myriad dialogues playing out in your head had gone away, left with only one; a part of you, screaming at the top of her little lungs, 'how did it take you this long to realize?!'

"I'm-I'm so sorry I didn't see it sooner," you stutter, leaning down to hug him, to hold him tight. You have so much you want to say to him, but it's hard to get words out with how overwhelmed you feel.

"Shh, it's okay," Yunho comforts you, holding your head in the crook of his neck.

"I love you too," you say, struggling to find the right words. "I mean, more than platonically, I love you. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it."

"I thought, maybe, that was the case," he says, chuckling into your hair.

"So even you figured that out before I did?" you ask, huffing out a laugh.

"What do you mean, even me?" he responds. You sit up to look at him again, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Literally all of our friends knew we liked each other before I did," you say, like it's groundbreaking news.

"Does that surprise you?" he asks, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," you respond.

"They always do that though, don't they? I mean we all knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa liked each other since forever ago, it was just a thing. Sometimes I feel like they know me better than I know myself." You nod in response. It was definitely true with your friend group, time and time again.

"But Yunho, if you thought I liked you why didn't you ask me about it earlier?" you ask.

"I didn't want to put you in an awkward spot," he says, stroking his hand comfortingly down your arm.

"But, wait, how long have you suspected I like you?" you ask.

"Um, a while," he says, trying to think. "I don't remember exactly, but probably the last year or so."

"Year??" you ask, genuinely shocked. "How- what made you think that?"

"The way you are with me, when you're sick. I don't think you realize the things you say..." he trails off, grabbing your hands in his again.

"Oh god, what have I said to you?" you groan, trying to look away.

"It's nothing embarrassing, I swear. You just become so clingy with me, in a different way than you are with Seonghwa. Like, in a literal sense, not wanting me to let you go. You've asked me to sleep in your hospital bed before, and nurses have to kindly ask me to move so I'm not in the way. You will sometimes cry about how worried you are that I'll leave you, in a way that made it feel like we were already together. One time you said you were scared I'd stop loving you because of how sick you were. You'll profess your love for me, beg me to stay with you forever. Things like that."

"That sounds intense," you say, imagining it from his perspective. You shudder at the thought, a part of you feeling sick at how overwhelming it must be to care for someone like you.

"Well, yeah," he responds.

"I'm sor-"

"No. Don't do that." He grabs you tightly again, wrapping you in his arms. "I'm grateful for it all. I'm just so glad we finally talked about this. I'll always love you, no matter what happens. I want you to always remember that."

You nod into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly, just as you hear some foot steps approaching.

"Hi guys, I'm sorry to interrupt," Ari starts, speaking gently. You both break apart to give her your attention. "Can I borrow a pad, or a tampon or something?" she asks you, fidgeting. "I don't know why, but my period started today when it wasn't supposed to till like, next Tuesday."

"Oh my god, of course," you say immediately. "They should just be in my bag, easy to find. Feel free to grab whatever you need. Oh and my Tylenol, it might be in the bathroom if it's not in my bag."

"Thank you so much, you're a life saver," she says over her shoulder as she heads back in quickly, nearly breaking into a run. This cabin is messing with our hormones, you think. At first the thought amuses you, but then it feels scary too. Because what if everything that had happened between you and Yunho here, wouldn't feel the same back home? What if your feelings would change? It had taken the chaotic events of this trip to bring them to the surface, and would the monotony and business of real life bury them again?

There's also the possibility that it was inevitable, that all along this was going to happen. It certainly seems that everyone else thinks that, and that offers you some reassurance. But you can't help your own doubts, and your intense fear of what this means. It's all finally in the open, your feelings at least. But will you actually date? There is so much to discuss, and although he knows a lot, Yunho doesn't know the full of extent of your health issues. How much it can affect you, randomly for weeks or even months, how your sex drive changes, your moods change, your likes and dislikes even, if complicated medical issues are happening. You know you're bound to be pissed at him, to not want his attentions sometimes. You know he's bound to be way busier than you; which could be a good thing, you remind yourself. But if spending less time together feels almost relieving in a way, then is dating really the right thing to do? Maybe relationships with other people in general aren't really something you're built for. It's not like you've made many friends since high school, and the ones you have are almost exclusively online. You feel your soreness again, like a stabbing reminder of how messed up your body is.

"What are you thinking about?" Yunho asks you, cutting off your train of thought. It takes you a few moments, but you manage to collect your thoughts.

"Do do you realize how sick I am?" you ask, your voice small.

"What do you mean?" The look he gives you is one of genuine care. It makes your heart flutter.

"I- just- I don't know what this is going to be going forward, but like, I can't date someone in the normal way. No, that's not a good way of putting it," you sigh into your hands. Gathering yourself you start again. "Dating me isn't even like dating someone with a diagnosed disease or disability. My health issues are ever changing, and none of them have been truly figured out. Obviously I've fainted since I was young, but sometimes I go through periods where I barely do at all, and then other times it's super frequent. Sometimes I randomly develop an allergy to a new food, and I have to basically obsessively read through every item I buy at the grocery store to make sure I'm not accidentally injesting it. There was a time, three years ago, when I had no desire for anything sexual for like, half a year. My periods were so bad, and everything down there just always felt weird and it hurt, and I literally thought I might never feel horny ever again. These things just, happen, and there's no way for me to predict them. And it would mean that, being with me, would be different," you finish, with a huge sigh.

"I know all of that already," Yunho says, sighing himself.

"But, so- what do you want to happen?" you ask, finally getting to crux of what you wanted to know.

"Whatever you want," he says.

"That's not true, that can't be," you say, feeling dubious. "There must be something specific that you want."

"I want to date you," he says. "But I knew you might not want that, because of everything you have going on. So whatever you're willing to do, I'm in."

"Yunho," you sigh, frustrated. Frustrated because those words feel too good to be true, and as much as you trust him in so many ways, a part of you still wants to run away in doubt. It's a huge deal, trusting someone with this part of you, and it's just hit you now that you've been sleeping with him, in more ways than one, and you haven't batted an eye. If he ever did something, in any scenario but especially a sexual one, that hurt you, it would be so hard to recover. Things had happened in the past to make you understand that. You were so determined to never let those things happen again, that you'd basically stopped dating or even thinking about it. You could physically please yourself, and have your friendships to give you companionship. You'd never felt very centered on romantic relationships anyway. You had so written off the possibility of developing another romantic relationship that you'd stumbled into one without much of a thought. It made you feel so stupid, so immature. It was hard not to scream at yourself internally.

"What do you want to happen?" he asks you, placing a hand on your knee comfortingly.

"I- I don't want to lose you," you say, sighing into yourself. "And I don't want to get hurt. I don't want- I- I don't know."

"I won't hurt you," he says, squeezing your knee.

"I know you'd never intend to, but you can't guarantee that," you say. "And I can't guarantee I won't hurt you, either."

"Isn't it still worth it?" he asks.

"It depends what we decide to do," you say, eyes soft.

"I love you," he says again. It's all he can think to say right now, seeing how much you seem to be spiraling. And it works; it brings you back down into your body, into the chair you're sitting on. Suddenly you feel heavy, like the weight of all of your thoughts crashed down on you in an instant.

"I love you too," you say, nearly tearing up again. "This got way too serious and heavy," you say, trying to shake loose the dread starting to fill your veins.

"Why don't we do something fun today, then?" he asks.

"Like what?" you ask, nodding your head.

"Do you want to go to the falls, just the two of us? I felt bad you couldn't really join in the other day when we all went. If you feel up to it," he says.

"That sounds perfect," you reply, smiling at him. You're thankful he seems okay leaving the conversation where it was. You could feel yourself coming undone a bit, your thoughts running out of control, and you knew there was truly no use in continuing. You needed to reset, to calm down, and Yunho's suggestion seemed like just the thing to make you feel right again.

***

Inside you both change into your swimsuits, grabbing towels and water and snacks for your journey. Yunho liberally applies sunscreen to your body, obviously enjoying the proximity, but also genuinely wanting to protect your skin. You burn extremely easily, and sunburns always make you feel exhausted for days.

"Everyone, the two of us are going to the falls," he announces to the room as you head towards the back door. "Follow at your own risk. Consider this your official warning," he says, eyeing everyone, making you giggle at the implication. He hopes they know what he means.

You take the walk slowly, again picking flowers from the path and putting them in his hair. It's hard for you to resist your little habit, given just how beautiful the landscape is out here. You love the wilderness, but your friends and family and life are in the city, so you cherish your moments out in nature when you can. Especially when you get to place flowers in Yunho's shaggy hair, that you absolutely love. You still haven't told him that, and it gnaws at you now that things are different between you. It wasn't something you would have necessarily thought to tell him before. You generally avoided having strong opinions about others' appearances because you just didn't feel it was your place. But your opinions about his clothes, his hair, had always been a bit stronger. You'd certainly noticed it from time to time, that you reacted when he borrowed his dad's suit for a wedding, or when he'd cut his hair a certain way. Maybe a part of you felt awkward about telling him that, in a way you wouldn't about any of your other friends. You'd justified to yourself that you never said anything because he didn't care about those things either, so you didn't need to say it. But now you realized, maybe it was because you felt nervous. Because there were lingering feelings there that you weren't really aware of.

"I really like your hair right now," you blurt out, not wanting to wait any longer. You were done being distant from your feelings, not understanding them when it came to him. It was too important to you now.

"Oh, really?" he asks you, turning to you with a smile as you near the lake. "The other day my mom said I desperately need a haircut," he laughs.

"No, I like it long like this," you say, admiring your work. You know the flowers will disappear as soon as he dives in the falls, but for now they're beautiful.

"Then I'm keeping it," he says, sighing contentedly as you finally reach your destination.

The falls are beautiful today, the sky bright and blue reflected in the sparkly clear water. You set your things down on a smooth rock, far enough from the edge that they won't fall in. Quickly Yunho dives in, and you follow after him much more carefully, gently lowering yourself into the wonderfully chilly water. The temperature is a welcome pairing with the heat of the day, and you sigh, taking a deep breath before finally dunking your head under. You swim out towards the actual waterfall, breathing in the mist that forms at the bottom, the sound nearly deafening when you're so close. But it feels electric; moments like these always do, when your body is well enough for you to be out experiencing something intoxicating and brilliant. Yunho sidles up beside you, pulling you with him as he ducks through the water to come behind the fall. Behind there is a small cave, invisible to the outside world, with light bouncing across the ceiling as water droplets skip along the surface, finding their final resting place after their journey over the cliff.

Yunho's hands are on you quickly, as you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He's holding you up, making it so you don't have to do any work, so that you can just breathe deep and enjoy the peace of the cave. In the water your bodies move slowly, sensually, and it makes you want to touch him as closely as you can. His wet hair sticks to his forehead, water beading down his face and shoulders. The gentle light dances across his face, and the steady sound from the falling water is almost hypnotizing. Your lips are on his before you know it, and it feels just right to open your mouth as he sucks on your bottom lip, letting out a soft moan. His hands are groping you, holding you up by your ass, snaking underneath your bikini bottoms. In here it truly feels like only you and him exist, and you release into that feeling, into the realization of just how strong your feelings for him are. You keep kissing him, small pecks of love, running your fingers through his hair and brushing it out of his face. You tug on it gently, not knowing if he likes that but so intoxicated by the pleasure you're feeling. Yunho groans, making you tug harder, your breathing speeding up from his reaction.

"I wanna fuck you out here," he says over the rushing water, his lips swollen from the kiss. You groan, grinding your hips into his as you lick across his lower lip, coaxing his mouth open again. Your tongues swipe over each other, you both incredibly hungry for more.

"Follow me," he says, starting to make his way back out of the cave. The bright sun feels shocking for a moment when you exit the dimness of the cave, but it feels wonderful. Like you've been transported back to literal paradise. You follow behind him as he swims towards the muddy bank of the lake, the part that boarders a bunch of trees and is relatively shady. When you arrive he lifts you up, sitting you down on the side of the lake where he can reach you.

His lips are back on yours in moments, his hands now able to explore the entirety of your bikini, snaking underneath your top to feel your chest, rubbing his thumbs enticingly over your nipples that are already hard from the cool water. A gentle breeze blows through the woods, making your wet skin feel cold. Your body shivers, from the breeze and from Yunho's touch, and you sigh in pleasure.

"Can I take this off?" Yunho asks as he tugs at your bikini, and you nod, starting to help him remove it. "Wait," he stops you, just for a moment. "You don't really answer me, when we're having sex. Do you like being so non-verbal?"

You just nod in response, showing him just how much it's true.

"Do you like me telling you what to do? Or do you want me to ask?" he continues.

"Either," you say, managing one word.

"And you'd tell me if you didn't like something?" he asks.

"Of course," you answer, feeling it's important. "I just don't like having to talk too much."

"I understand," Yunho nods, taking in your answer. He actually finds it incredibly hot, but again, it's not really something you've fully talked through yet. He so badly wants to know that he isn't hurting you, ever.

"Take this off then," he says, gently tugging on your bikini before pulling back from you. You throw it on the bank behind you, and it falls between two flowers in the grass.

Your feet sink into the mud as he pulls your legs again towards him, gently pushing them open. With your arms behind you, and bare chest to the sky, your naked body is on full display. Yunho's hands trace over the entirety of you, his legs still in the water as he kneels down, bringing himself closer to your center. He eyes your cunt hungrily, and it makes you throb, just how much his demeanor changes when he's finally truly in control. Your whole body buzzes from your surroundings, from the knowledge that you're in the wide open air and anyone could see.

"You like being naked in the forest, don't you," he says, seeing the way you so freely tossed your clothing, how comfortably you bore yourself to the world. You blush and giggle, soaking in the smells of the forest and grass behind you.

Yunho's hands slink down your thighs, finally coming to gently brush over your slit, when you jolt back in pain. The wimper that escapes you is pathetic, the realization of just how sensitive your pussy still is hitting you. It makes you upset, almost irrationally so.

"What's wrong baby?" he asks, immediately coming to comfortingly stroke your cheek.

"She hurts," you pout, looking down.

"Does she need a break today?" he asks.

"I guess," you say, frowning dramatically.

"That's okay baby, you don't need to be upset," he says, pulling you into a hug.

"But I want to do stuff," you whine into his shoulder.

"If your body needs a break, then we should give it a break," he says logically, making you roll your eyes. You feel petulant, and just want this time at the falls to be perfect.

"Is there anything that would help her feel better?" he asks, stroking a hand down your back.

"You could massage her," you say, smiling into him.

"What do you mean? Inside or outside?" he asks. You know it doesn't really make sense, the idea of massaging a pussy. But it makes sense to you.

"Just outside like, real gentle," you say, your voice small.

Yunho pulls back, gently bringing his hand down to your slit again. You inhale sharply at the initial contact, your body reacting without your control. But soon his methodical, slow movements up and down start to feel good. You body finally relaxes into it, your head dropping back as you soak in the warmth of the air. Yunho continues moving his fingers up and down, over and over brushing gently over your clit when he reaches the apex of his movements. The pleasure grows steadily each time and soon you're moaning softly, dropping to your elbows and spreading your legs even wider as your body starts to revel in the feeling.

"Does it feel good baby?" he asks you, and you nod your head, whining in response. He moves his thumb up to focus on your clit, gathering the wetness from your entrance and spreading it around. He adds more pressure to his small circular movements, the focus making your clit feel hot and sensitive. Waves of pleasure run down your legs and race up your abdomen, making your body feel sizzling hot in the summer air. You arch your back further, pushing yourself harder into his fingers, chasing the pleasure.

"You want more?" he asks, making you mewl in response. "I know you can take more baby, even if you're sore. Relax your pussy for me," he says before lining up his other hand, gently gathering more of your wetness on his middle finger before pushing it inside of you. You gasp instantaneously, again wincing at the initial pain. But with his other hand working your clit the pain quickly leaves you, your insides feeling like they're melting from the pleasure. His long fingers feel like they reach all the way inside of you, all the way into your guts, and it feels electric. Your breathing is ragged, your awareness no where else but your core and his fingers. "Good, you're so relaxed for me. I knew you could take it," he says, slowly pumping his finger in and out, focusing on putting pressure on that spongy sensitive spot that feels the best. "That feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, and you moan in response, almost whimpering. It makes blood rush to his cock seeing you so engrossed in how good you feel, the way you can so fully submit to him and your body and all the pleasure it gives you. "You need more," he says, no longer asking. He adds another finger, careful at first to not stretch you painfully fast. Once he can tell your body is ready for it he pumps faster, still focused on adding pressure in the right places.

Your moans are higher pitched now, your clit feeling red hot with pleasure. Your pussy is still sore but it feels so good, his movements mimicking the night before but not as rough, your body remembering everything that had transpired between the two of you the past few days. It's like everything with him; it builds, slowly, and suddenly you realize it's the best feeling in the world having him in control like this, able to read your body perfectly. A true dream come true, and it makes your head fuzzy with desire as you realize just how much you like it when he touches you all over, when he takes you out to a lake in the wide open air and touches you where anyone could see. Your careful, boring life would never have anyone suspect you like this and yet he could see, he knew. It almost feels fated that you went down this path, not knowing for so long what your true feelings were. Truly, how could this get any bett-

"Baby, stop thinking," Yunho says, bringing you back to him. And in a moment you're coming, the feeling ripping through you from your clit, making your whole body tingly with warmth and pleasure. The tightening muscles of your core are sore, but still clamp down around Yunho's fingers as you ride it out, your hips rolling to meet his movements. "Good girl, good girl," he repeats in your ear, or at least it feels like he's whispering into your ear, your eyes closed and taking in every sound so vividly. You finally lay fully flat on your back, riding out the last of your orgasm, your body limp and relaxed against the dirt and grass on the bank. Finally you blink open to look at him, seeing the blown pupils you love so much, taking his hand off your clit with a small 'too much.' He smiles at you, stroking that hand across your stomach and leaning down to kiss you, hungrily coaxing your mouth open and then pulling back to suck on your bottom lip.

***

And unbeknownst to both of you, Wooyoung watched on from behind a tree, his hand down his pants as he palms his painfully hard cock, trying to offer himself some relief. He understood Yunho's implication a mile away, and after spending a long time coming up with a good excuse, trekked his way up the hill to find you two. He really was getting incessantly horny on this trip, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary given his typical predisposition to horniness. But something on this trip especially, the amount of sex happening around him, made him feel insatiable.

As he crested the small hill before the lake he saw you two immediately, saw Yunho's hands under your bathing suit and your head thrown back in pleasure, the perfect curve of Yunho's back as he leaned into you, his hands possessively roaming. Wooyoung felt himself getting hard immediately, especially as he snuck around to between the trees, the threat of being caught adding to the arousal pooling in his pants. He saw you two talking, saw some exchange happen. And then your were stripping off your bikini, throwing it behind you, and your naked body was bare to the sky. He'd told you a million times how hot you were, and you usually laughed it off; but he truly meant it. Though he couldn't hear any of the words between you he could sense your submission and the way Yunho was taking control, the way he comforted you when you seemed to be in pain, and the way he reached down again and touched you differently. Wooyoung wished he could experience Yunho's domination, how kind and gentle it was. It wasn't his usual style, not what he usually wanted. But something about seeing the two of you together made him ever so slightly jealous; it made him think of the woman he was now involved with, how he missed her hands on him.

His hand provided him some pleasure but it just wasn't enough, just couldn't satisfy him the way he needed. His dick was hard and leaking in his shorts, and the longer he watched he just didn't care anymore; he pushed them down, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his pleasure, not caring when he heard some twigs snap under his foot. The pleasure was good, so good, but he knew it couldn't be enough for him. Did he just watch you come? God he needed the feel of someone else, the intensity of fucking another person. He needed a better look at you, needed to see all that he could, so he stepped beside the tree, a larger branch snapping under his weight and echoing against the cliff, making Yunho's head snap up.

"Wooyoung, Jesus Christ," Yunho laughed, lifting himself off of you and helping you sit up, his two fingers still inside you.

"Oh my god, Woo," you laughed too, seeing his boner even all these feet away. It made you feel good, your core clenching a moment as your realized he'd been watching.

"Sorry, I-" Wooyoung sputtered, not sure what to say. Desperately he pulled up his shorts, his cock creating an obvious tent in the material. You both keep laughing, looking over at his pathetic face, his cheeks red from being caught. Painfully, it turned him on even more, the way you both were laughing at him. "This isn't fair," he whined, trying to look away from your naked bodies.

"What do you mean?" you asked him, still laughing.

"I'm fucking horny," he whined again, his tone still pitiful, but the smirk on his face betrayed just how much he was loving this. "And you guys just keep laughing at me; I'm not even trying to be funny."

"What are you trying to do then?" Yunho asked, eyeing him.

"I-" he started, stopping himself.

"Woo, just say it," you giggled, loving every moment of seeing Wooyoung like this.

"I'm trying to- I need someone to fuck me," he blurted out, finally.

"And you're hoping it'll be me?" you jokingly batted your eyelashes at him, making his head feel fuzzy. "Or, him?" you asked, pointing at Yunho.

"Either of you, I don't care," Woo responded, his whole body flushed with how turned on he was.

"You don't prefer me?" you asked, acting like you were hurt.

"Y/n," Wooyoung groaned, his hand coming put to cover his face. "I know you're fucking with me," he sighed, trying to collect himself.

"Yeah, stop messing with poor horny Wooyoung," Yunho laughed, his hand still inside you. He liked feeling the way your pussy clenched as you teased Wooyoung; you clearly loved doing it, and he filed that thought away for later.

"You both suck," Wooyoung groaned, carefully untangling his shoe from the broken branch, making his way back towards the trail.

"Woo, maybe just ask someone instead of sneaking up on them," Yunho called, his tone light as he chuckled. Neither of you really minded his intrusion, it just probably wasn't the way he was going to succeed at his little mission.

Tumbling down the trail Wooyoung almost broke into a run, adrenaline from the conversation he'd just finished coursing through him. As he neared the cabin he tried to slow down, steadying his breaths as he spotted Mingi shooting hoops by himself, shirtless and no doubt sweaty in the afternoon heat. Taking Yunho's advice he decided to play it as cool as he could, approaching Mingi with a clear goal instead of messily stumbling up a mountain in a pure horny haze.

"Mingi!" he called out, making his way over towards the court.

"Hey Woo," Mingi replied, passing him the basketball. Wooyoung wound up, missing the basket completely, the ball bouncing away into the grass.

"You really are terrible at shooting," Mingi laughed, jogging over to pick up the ball.

"Not nice," Wooyoung pouted, his arms crossing over his chest. "I'm very good at plenty of other things," he stated, jutting out a hip.

"Oh, sure you are," Mingi joked. You weren't the only one who enjoyed messing with Wooyoung; in fact, it was kind of a default setting for most of you. It was just too fun, seeing him get all flustered and bothered in the way that he did. The crazy thing was Mingi hadn't even seen Woo's shorts yet, too focused on retrieving the basketball a moment ago.

"I am," Wooyoung fixed Mingi with a steely gaze, just as Mingi wound up for a shot. The ball bounced off the backboard, headed straight for Wooyoung, but he didn't even bother catching it as he continued to stare Mingi down.

"Woo, what are you- oh my god," Mingi laughed, finally seeing the tent in his shorts. "Did I do that?" he joked, pointing. Wooyoung's face grew pink again, that feeling of being caught doing something bad returning in full force.

"Well, yeah," Woo responded, snaking his eyes down Mingi's entire body. "You're out here playing basketball shirtless, how was I supposed to react?"

Mingi smiled and laughed, honestly flattered by Woo's admission. "So you had an anterior motive, you didn't actually want to play with me?" he asked, jogging to the back of the court to pick up the ball Woo had let go.

"Mingi, I'm horny," Wooyoung groaned, eyeing him pathetically.

"I'm shocked," Mingi responded, laughing again.

"Mingi," Woo groaned again. "I need someone to help me, to, take care of it," he mumbled, his body tingling with embarrassment.

"Just go jack off, if it's that bad," Mingi replied, shooting the basketball again. It was all so casual to him, this conversation not affecting him the way Wooyoung hoped. Well, that was a failed attempt. Grumbling something incoherent Wooyoung walked away, heading towards the back of the house until he spotted Seonghwa and Hongjoong out by the trees, laying together in the grass. He walked his way over, determined to play it right this time.

"Hi guys," he said brightly, finally coming upon them to see Hongjoong on top of Seonghwa, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. They were more tangled together than Wooyoung realized, and he braced for the response.

"Oh my god, Woo, you fucking scared me," Hongjoong sputtered, lifting himself enough to look at him. "What's up?" he asked, confused by the sudden interruption.

"How- how are you guys, doing?" Wooyoung asked hesitantly, trying to tread lightly.

"Um, good. We're kind of in the middle of something," Hongjoong replied, Seonghwa holding back a laugh underneath him.

"I know, I- um-" Woo stuttered, not able to come out with it.

"Woo, is something wrong?" Hongjoong asked, getting annoyed.

"No, I'm-"

"Okay then what are you doing! We're clearly in the middle of something!" he nearly yelled, his dick hard in his pants and frustrated with the lack of action he was getting. Wooyoung pouted, the sharp sound of Hongjoong's voice penetrating through him. He liked being yelled at like that.

"He probably wants to join us," Seonghwa laughed, his body still lax against the grass.

"Oh, I should have guessed," Hongjoong replied, laughing too. A moment lapsed, the two of them giggling into each other, before their faces came close again. But just before they could kiss again Seonghwa held his hand against Hongjoong's shoulder, stopping him.

"Woo, seriously, we want to spend some quality time just the two of us," Seonghwa said, his voice gentle but his demand clear.

"God, all of you suck," Wooyoung huffed before turning on his heel, stalking his way back towards the cabin. He now had his sights set on the bathroom, his needs growing too severely now for him to keep wasting time hoping that one of you would join him. It was time to deal with this himself, even if it wouldn't compare to what he really wanted.

When he busted through the door he didn't even consider acting normal for everyone; his desperation was too severe. Ari noticed his strange demeanor right away, pulling him aside in the hallway.

"What's wrong?" he asked, her voice soft.

"Nothing, nothing," Wooyoung replied, trying not to be driven crazy by how attentive she was being. God, he really just needed to lock himself in that bathroom and get this shit over with.

"Woo, clearly it's something," she said eyeing his crotch, wracking her brain for what exactly it could be.

"I really shouldn't have worn these damn shorts," Woo sighed, shaking his head at just how poor his choice was. They truly were the worst, the thin grey material leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. "Sorry, I'm just so horny right now and no one I asked was willing to, uh, sleep with me," he laughed. Saying it out loud made him realize how silly it all was, some of his tension melting away.

"Woo, I-" Ari looked over to San, seeing him engrossed in a conversation with Yeosang and Jongho. "Give me a sec, stay right here," she said before grabbing San, pulling him into their shared bedroom for a quick conversation. Soon she had returned, Wooyoung waiting patiently with his hands covering his crotch as he tried to act as normal as possible.

"Woo, come with me," Ari beckoned, holding out her hand. He grabbed it, following diligently towards the master bedroom. Once inside Ari sat him on a chair, her and San facing him while they sat on their bed.

"Woo, you seem very in need, and well, we're offering to help you," Ari started, not a single awkward pause tainting her sentence.

"Wait, really?" Woo asked looking between the two of them, absolutely shocked. They were the last people he'd ever have thought would be open to this, mostly because he'd never even met San and had no way of knowing what sort of thing he was into. But even Ari, she'd never seemed like the kind of person who'd want to share.

"Yes really. We can, tonight, if you want to," she finished, San nodding along. They'd actually discussed this possibility of this exact scenario about a month before, both laughing at the time about how unlikely it was to really happen. But they both found Wooyoung attractive, and decided they wouldn't rule out the idea of messing around with him together. At that time San had only seen pictures and spoken to Woo on the phone a few times; still, his interest was piqued.

"I-" Woo stuttered again, his words failing him badly with how fuzzy his head had felt for nearly the entire afternoon. "I don't know if, if my girlfriend will like it," he suddenly blurted out, surprising everyone, including himself.

"You have a girlfriend?" Ari asked.

"Yeah, that woman Mingi told you guys about, that choreographer," he responded.

"So things are really that serious, between you two?" Ari asked, so curious. There was no judgement in her tone, this was just truly a bit out of character for Wooyoung.

"We haven't discussed it yet," Woo replied, his own eyes still wide.

"Why didn't you invite her to come along?" San asked him, smiling at how genuine Woo's surprise clearly was.

"I- I didn't even think to," Wooyoung sighed, shaking his head.

"You should text her, we've still got a few days. And aren't your cousins leaving tomorrow morning? That'll free up some space on the couches," Ari said, smiling genuinely at Wooyoung.

"Fuck, I should," Woo smiled, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly. "I'm sorry guys, I hope I'm not making you feel rejected or anything, by saying no. I'd gladly fuck both of you, any day," he finished, making them both laugh.

"Don't apologize Woo, it's no big deal. Go, go text her," Ari responded, shooing Wooyoung out of the room. It was honestly so adorable how genuine Wooyoung was being, so careful with this woman's feelings, and it made Ari so happy to see her friend experiencing what all of you had wanted for him for so long.

***

The day pulled to an end, the sun starting to fall beyond the tree line, covering the sky in a beautiful subtle shade of orange. S'mores were on the menu tonight, the whole group of you gathered around the fire pit as Yunho and Mingi stoked the fire, their faces lit up with the brilliant light of the flames. You sat wrapped up in Yunho's hoodie again, yawning hard as you shivered in the cold air of the night. Earlier, when you'd finally made it back to the cabin, you'd realized your skin was burnt, and it only took a few hours for the exhaustion to start setting in. So much for trying to be careful, you thought. But it really was worth it today, getting to spend all that time alone with Yunho.

"How was everyone's day?" Ari asks from San's lap, a blanket wrapped around the two of them.

"So good," you smile at her, and she waggled her eyebrows at you, making you laugh. "I wish I could go to that waterfall, like, every weekend," you say, a murmur of agreement passing through the group.

"I'm sure Wooyoung wishes you could do that too," Yunho adds, looking over at Wooyoung with a smirk.

"Do tell," Ari prompts him, seeing clearly he has a story to share.

"Well, Woo came and interrupted me and y/n while we were, you know, in the middle of the things out by the lake. It was funny," he laughs, smiling at you.

"He did the same to us," Hongjoong responds, making both you and Yunho's eyebrows jump up.

"Woo I told you not to sneak up on anyone else," Yunho chastises him, laughing harder.

"Damn Woo, you really asked everyone today," Mingi laughs, smirking.

"You all are such cunts," Wooyoung responds, fighting back the laughter himself. "You just keep rubbing it in my damn face how you're having sex every goddamn day we're here."

"I haven't been," Mingi retorts, earning an eye roll form Wooyoung.

"Okay well you're rubbing it in my face how perfect your body is, so yeah, you still qualify as a cunt," Wooyoung responds.

"Did you text your girlfriend Woo?" Ari asks.

"Girlfriend?" you ask, looking at him expectantly.

"Yes, girlfriend. And yes I did; she said she has to check her schedule but she's probably coming tomorrow," Woo responds, looking almost nervous.

"Oh my god Woo, this is so exciting!" Ari responds.

"Wait, are you two like, together together? Officially?" you ask. Woo nods, that shy smile not leaving his lips.

"Look at him, he's growing up," Seonghwa sighs, making you all laugh. There is a palpable relief washing through the group, at seeing Wooyoung willing to explore a relationship again after swearing everything about love off so long ago. High school relationships can be so scarring, and a big part of you felt so thankful you never even considered dating at that age, despite at the time feeling like you were missing out on something to integral to growing up.

"And what's the deal with you two?" Ari eyes you and Yuho, smiling at the way your eyes can't even meet hers.

"We haven't talked about it yet, we'll tell you guys in our own time," Yunho responds, not angry by any means but firm enough to shut down the line of inquiry.

"Things are good," you add, seeing the curious looks of everyone.

"Your boyfriend is really cool, by the way," Jongho says to Ari, earning a small chorus of 'so true' and 'I agree' from the group.

"Thank you, that's so nice to hear," Ari responds, snuggling closer in San's lap. "You always worry what people will think of your boyfriend, especially your favorite people."

"He seems basically perfect," you say, Ari's face lighting up with a smile. San has finally lost the battle with himself, his own face curling into a shy smile that makes his dimples pop.

"Aw look, he's blushing!" Mingi calls, making you all break into giggles once again. "Here, who wants the first one?" he asks holding up a toasty marshmallow, Wooyoung holding out his plate of graham crackers and chocolate. "Be careful guys, they're gonna be really hot," he says as he pops another marshmallow on his stick, carefully holding it the perfect distance above the now-steady fire. Eventually you all have hot marshmallows on your plate, the chocolate melty inside the delicious sugary sandwich you all are enjoying. Well, everyone except you has melty chocolate, because of course chocolate was one of those pesky things you couldn't eat. Still you enjoyed the treat, resting your head against the back of your chair as you all chowed down, the group falling into near silence.

"She said she can come tomorrow morning," Wooyoung suddenly announces after checking his phone, the light from the sun nearly totally gone now. You all murmur in approval, genuinely excited to meet this woman who your dear friend so cares about. Soon everyone is done, wiping their faces as they finish the last of their s'mores, the fire slowly starting to die as Yunho and Mingi let it burn out. In the darkness of the night you can see so many starts, the sight always taking your breath away when you have the chance to see it. You lay staring up for a while, trying to find the constellations you know, your eyes eventually feeling too heavy to hold open. Soon you're woken from your slumber by Yunho, as he carries you inside to properly go to bed, your head resting against his shoulder as he carries you. You're out moments after snuggling into the soft sheets of your bed nook, your mind enveloped in a comforting darkness after the wonderful day you'd just had.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area ch 4 progress

(read other sections of this and more stories here)

Danny floated miserably through the stacks, pulling out books that looked remotely plausible. Maybe he needed help. Jazz would help him without laughing at him, right?

Sam and Tucker absolutely would not. They would think it was hilarious that he had so little game that the universe assigned him a boyfriend via Jeremy Waters. 

‘As if I could pull a guy who looks like that,’ Danny thought wryly, and then felt a little bad about himself in comparison. Jason was, uhhhh, physically blessed. He was tall and well proportioned and his hands- Danny fought down a shiver and resisted the urge to steal another look. Jason was out of sight anyway.

Well. He still hadn't seen Jason's face. Maybe he was ugly! You never know. Or maybe under the helmet it was totally smooth, no face. That would be neat. Danny paused mid motion to imagine that.

Haha. Sick, man.

That concept cheered him up a little as he grimly opened the first book and started skimming for likely words like marriage, spouse, and concubine. 

He didn’t bother reading anything in detail. He stuck a post it note on each page with a relevant term and then put the book in a pile to take back to his dorm. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day.

Ah, shit. Danny paused. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day. He bit his lip and looked off in the direction where Jason had disappeared to do his own research.

He truly didn’t have time to devote to this right now. He was not willing to drop his school life in order to solve a sudden problem. Jason was just going to have to cope with whatever timeline Danny could manage without setting his life on fire.

On the other hand, Jason was a human guy who probably had a life of his own at the biker bar/fight club. Whatever the hell required that kind of outfit probably kept him busy! So Danny couldn’t like, just leave him in the castle to chill.

“Not to mention the fact that he shouldn’t be able to live here very long anyways,” Danny muttered to himself.

That was troubling him. Frankly, Jason should have been intolerably uncomfortable in the ghost zone for this long without specialized protective equipment. It wasn’t meant for humans.

‘What did Jeremy do to this guy?’

Yikes. Did this mean… Did this mean Danny should have given that little cult thing more credit? But Jeremy was just such a doofus. He grimaced. Embarrassing. Why were his enemies so embarrassing? This shit didn’t happen to, like, Wonder Woman.

Danny buried himself back in the books to avoid the growing suspicion that Jason might have been uhhhh magically altered to make him an appropriate concubine to a dead king. That thought sucked! He didn’t like it. He really didn’t like the idea of bringing it up with Jason.

When he had what he thought was a good first round of research, Danny shelved the books he’d gotten out and went to find where his …

He whole-body flinched at the point where he needed to plug an appropriate noun into that sentence. 

“Jason?” Danny called, juggling books into a stack. “I think we should probably get you back to the re- the human world. Before something inexorable happens.”

A pause.

“I don’t think you know what that word means,” Jason said. A book shut. Danny headed towards the sound, phasing through shelves effortlessly. A spark of curiosity lit up at Jason’s voice. He sounded relaxed, even through the helmet’s filter. 

‘I want to hear his real voice. Bet it’s nice.’

Wait. What? Danny shook the thought away, discomforted. He plastered a wide grin on his face. “I don’t know any words,” he lied breezily. “I’m just ad libbing. Anyway!” He flopped dramatically down onto the big chair next to Jason’s, making sure to be extra physical to get a satisfying whumpf. “We really should go! I can get you to the human world, but, uh, I can’t promise to put you back where you came from.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I think this is going to be a more than one day affair.”

Jason was watching him. There was nothing visible through his helmet, but Danny got the sense that he was tense, waiting for a threat. 

Which, what? Why would Jason feel threatened by-

Oh. Danny felt a knot in his stomach. Right. That made a lot of sense. He felt kinda sick. 

He didn’t let the feeling show through and barreled on speaking. “I don’t exactly have an easy way for you to contact me, but we probably need to stay in touch to fix this. Do you have any ideas?” 

The lie felt kind of gross. But he could hardly tell the guy; “I’m an engineering student in Gotham, you can just call my cell or come to the dorms.”

Jason seemed to relax at the cessation of control. “If you can stick around, yeah. I’ll get you a burner phone, exchange numbers. You’re not going to…” He trailed off. Danny felt a frown somehow. “You won’t have any signal here, actually. That won’t work.”

“I can make it work,” Danny assured him, hands up. “I mean, I can’t make it work here, or I would have offered to help with your tech. But I can pop in and out of the human world and check my messages.”

“That’ll work.” Jason’s helmet turned ever so slightly. “About the books…”

“You found something good?” Danny asked, impressed. “Yeah, awesome. Just be really careful with them, the librarian is a scary guy.”

Jason’s hand flexed over the closed book on his thigh. “I can take- how many can I take out?”

Danny scoffed. “I’m not your dad,” he said. “Whatever you can carry, man. You ready to go or do you need a minute?” He flipped back to his feet with a grunt. 

[hina-hina]

Hi can i request a ghost x too pure for this world slash civillian reader . where reader is the total opposite of ghost like they too kind and soft and ghost met them whole reader was working in a local bookshop and they both just fall head over heels for each other 😭💗💗

Hiiii, this was such a cute request! I love the opposites attract relationships so much and imagining THE big, scary Ghost with this very sweet and kind reader is so fun!! Kinda got carried away with it, but I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting!! (❤ ω ❤)

|| Ghost with a Soft Partner ||

Warnings: soft and flustered Ghost (^///^)

It's not often when Ghost gets to take a break from his work, but when he does it's never for very long

So, when he does get a break, he spends it doing the few things he actually likes about civilian lives

And, surprisingly, one of those things is reading

So, whenever he's in town, he likes to pick up a few books to take back to base with him

So he pulls on the most discreet civvies he owns, a black hoodie, mask, and beanie. (Because you can't very well go about in town with a skull mask without getting unwanted stares)

He doesn't like how much his hulking form sticks out in the cozy bookstore but he goes anyway

However, he immediately regrets it after he sees the confusing way the store has the books organized

Apparently noticing his confusion, you would approach to help him

He is immediately taken aback by your soft-spoken voice and demeanor as you ask if he needs help

Would take a minute to respond and not notice he's just staring at you

When he notices you starting to get nervous under his intense gaze he would immediately look away and clear his throat

"I'm lookin' for your mystery books..."

"Oh! Yes, the sorting method can get a little confusing. Just follow me!"

He is once again taken aback by your helpful attitude

It's not often people are so nice to him

You bring him to the right section and are about to leave him alone when he suddenly asks;

"Any recommendations?"

He doesn't know why he asks but he knows that he's comforted by your presence

So, the two of you talk and he ends up buying more than one of your recommendations

But eventually you have to go back to work and he has to go back home

However you find yourself stuck thinking about the large, intimidating man with a love for mystery books and he finds himself in a similar position.

So he finds himself coming back to the bookstore again

and again

He finds talking with you to be like a fresh breath of air

It makes him forget about Ghost for a while and feel like Simon again

Eventually he gets up the courage to ask you out on a date against his better judgement

So, you end up going on a date to this cutesy cafe even though he feels totally out of place because he knows you would love it

He eventually opens up about his job but tells you the bare minimum, just that he's just a military soldier is the SAS

Your shocked and slightly worried because that work is dangerous but upon reflection you know he can handle himself

He walks you home and the end of the night and when you lean in to kiss him, he pulls back

When you look at him with a hurt expression, he continues;

"Listen... I don't understand how I feel about you but I do know you deserve a hell of a lot more than me. If we do this, I have to know your sure. My work is... Dangerous. I don't want to hurt you."

You smile, "Let me worry about what I think I deserve, Simon."

You place your hands on the sides of his mask and he pauses, large hands coming up to engulf your wrists as he nods

You pull his mask down and lean up as you kiss

Eventually, he has to return to base and is worried on how the distance will affect your relationship

You reassure him though with your soft smile and tell him you'll be waiting for him to get back

He feels his heart clench with a soft affection he hadn't felt in a long time

While he's going through his things, he opens one of the books you had recommended to him only to find you had tucked a few secretly taken polaroids inside

He keeps one tucked in his breast pocket and another pinned to the wall in his room on base

While he's gone, the two of you share video calls and you send him letters

He's always so touched by the time you put into the letters and he loves knowing your still doing fine without him there

He would be SUPER protective of you

When the other guys on the 141 task force find out he has a partner, they argue over what kind of person he would look for in a partner

When he finally shows them a picture, they are all shocked because just from the picture they can tell your complete opposites

You send him care packages with books you think he would like and homemade sweets

The other guys would always ask for some but he would refuse because you made them for him

He would be reluctant to tell you about his past because he doesn't want to "corrupt" you

You tell him he's being dumb and reassure him that, when he's ready to talk, you'll be there

Would still have feelings of inadacity because he's a cold-hearted killer and your so painfully good

You reassure him that his work helps tons of people and that your proud of him

He enjoys having you read to him while he rests his head in your lap

He's definitely touch starved so he gets very flustered when you get touchy with him

He loves it tho

I can also see him sending you books, trinkets, and rocks he finds while on deployment

You keep each one he sends and display them

Prefers to spend dates indoors quietly

Would 100% fantasize about marrying you

Would encourage you to be a little less kind when people at work are mean to you or too pushy because he doesn't like the idea of not being able to defend you himself

All and all, you would just be really fluffy and cute, a much needed softness to balance out his cold demeanor

[akutasoda]

I’m started to like requested things off songs- so here’s another one!!

reader who has an ability where she dies..but just comes back. It’s like the next day? Like she dies and then just shows back up not dead and perfectly fine? I’m thinking it’s a enemy to lover thing?

with chuuya, Dazai, atsushi, kunikida, akutagawa, and Verlaine?

-🌀Anon

i still feel alive

synopsis - you forgot to tell them about your ability, why should they know they were your enemy, but maybe you should've

includes - atsushi, dazai, kunikida, chuuya, akutagawa, verlaine

warnings - gn!reader, angst to some comfort, fluff, enemies to lovers, reader dies but not really, wc - 2.2k

a/n: apologies in advance but all sections are very varying lengths

atsushi nakajima ★↷

your relationship with the were-tiger was nothing short of more than a workplace rivalry. you hadn't been working there much longer than he had but upon his first few days, he saw you as quite the respectable colleague and in turn aspired to become more like you in the workplace.

you recognised this quite early and saw it as a friendly competition. and soon he caught on. and that's how the friendly workplace rivalry had begun. wether it was with paperwork or actual missions you both turned it into a competition. and the other members of the agency found it either entertaining, or rather childish but let it be either way.

however you both knew the limits of when to stop the rivalry and that was often during difficult missions. and now more than ever atsushi understood what had drawn him to you in the first place. but it seemed to late as he watched the life drain from your body with now one in the vicinity abke to help. now he had realised everything, but now you were dead.

this whole time he was so oblivious to yours and his feelings but now it was too late he understood them. and even now he couldn't help but still have you occupy his mind. he thought about you constantly, you and everything he wished had gone differently. and before he knew it a day had passed and he hadn't even returned to work after the mission, going straight home.

he didn't want to go back to work but he knew it would do him no good sitting around thinking of you, atleast maybe this would distract him. but as he walked into the office dazai walked up to him with a rather happy smile and asked him to follow. atsushi mindlessly followed until dazai opened a door they had stopped at, atsushi couldn't believe his eyes. there you stood, unharmed and perfectly fine.

he was inclined not to believe what he was seeing but you knew what he was going to think and quickly shut down any misconceptions. now he had the time to work out his feelings but for now he embraced you and sobbed into your shoulder, getting you to promise never to scare him like that again.

osamu dazai ★↷

from the minute you had first met dazai, you had quite honestly thought he was quite annoying. he often teased you about everything and would try and embarrass you constantly. so what better thing to do then reciprocate the feeling. starting a very long lasting rivalry that made him quite smug knowing that he started it.

wether you worked with him or not he would find a way to annoy you on the daily just for you to return the favour. to anyone else it looked like a very childlike rivalry but they never said anything. but one of the main reasons for the rivalry was for the fact that dazai wasn't that good with genuine feelings.

he never knew how to get across specific feelings to be more exact. from the moment he had met you he knew that he wanted to be someone to you but had no idea how to go about that as mostt relationships he had were most likely to get something out of it and were a one time thing. so he was ultimately lost and the only way he could think of keeping you close was to start a petty rivalry. he never wanted to lose you.

and even knowing that most things he cared for were lost, he let himself get slightly closer to you. close enough that to him it seemed as if fate cruelly ripped out any chance of him hoping to further the relationship with you. and that came in the form of having to witness your death. he was in disbelief, he had tried so hard to avoid this bit here it was and it hurt none the less.

it had completely destroyed his mask seeing you die. he felt more somber and returned home to let it out within the scarce comfort of his four walls. and before he knew it, it was morning. he had debated not going into work but then people would notice something up and ask questions and he didn't want that. so with a heavy-heart he went to work yet again, mind consumed with thoughts about you.

however as he arrived at the agency he walked into the room where his and other desk were held just to see you sat there at his desk with the most smug smile he had ever seen. he quickly caught on to what had happened and internally cursed himself for forgetting. you truly had the last laugh. but he was so relieved that nothing truly bad had happened to you, and so relieved he hadn't held you for fear his ability may of gotten in the way.

doppo kunikida ★↷

the last thing anyone expected form him was to have a childish rivalry with you. yet here he was and for reasons that no-one knows, he had a very childlike rivalry with you. you found it very entertaining and therefore only teased him or tried to one up him more which often lead to making it even worse.

throughout the whole time, he bad thought he just had a weird hatred for your insistent teasing. but for reasons that escaped him he felt something more for you but never really acknowledged them.

however he wishes maybe he could've accepted them, and maybe you two would've developed beyond the rivalry. but now he had watched you die. he was in disbelief initially, there was no way you had died. and all at once it had hit him, the realisation that he would never see you again and never hear your teasing remarks. it was rare for him to diverge from his schedule, but the lack of sleep he got that night was from the tears that flowed endlessly.

he truly didn't want to go into work, but that would further mess up his schedule and maybe he could distract himself from the thoughts of you that occupied his mind. as he entered the building he was faced with something he could only imagine was his mind playing a cruel trick on him. it was you, unharmed and perfectly fine.

you had to quickly explain yourself as you could tell how confused and upset he was. he cursed your ability for making him worry that much but he also thanked it, thanked it for keeping you alive until he finally understood his feelings.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

he was known for being quite the confident person. that was no doubt. so when you had shown up and started teasing him and just overall annoyed him he wasn't sure what to do. but of course his natural instinct was to just do it back, and hence your rivalry started. always trying to one up or embarrass the other. often getting into petty arguments or small childlike squabbles.

whatever the reason you had initially started teasing him may or may not compare to what he was currently feeling. somewhere along the way he started developing something that he didn't quite know what it was or why he had started feeling this way. and he didn't quite know what to do with these feelings so for now he stuck to continuing this rivalry.

but maybe he should've hurried up with trying to understand his feelings. because now he thought he eould have no other chances. he had experienced alot of deaths, some personal and others just part of his job but your death was one of the worst he had ever experienced. and all of a sudden, affter watching your death he became even more painfully aware of his feelings.

everything seemed a bit more dull to him. finishing the mission, deciding to leave early and eventually going to bed. every action felt meaningless and his mind wasn't focused on tasks, more so focused on you and what could've been. he went to bed with a clouded mind and a dull ache in the back of his mind.

even going into work felt wrong. knowing you wouldn't be there to tease or mock him. but to his very surprise there you stood. stood unharmed and rather smig standing next to koyo. he thought this couldn't be real and that this was a cruel trick. but you had noticed him and very aware of what he was thinking, explained everything to him.

you truly had one upped him again. he had yelled at you telling you never to scare him like that, but you couldn't help but laugh at how honest he had finally became with his feelings.

ryunosuke akutagawa ★↷

a very unlikely relationship to most but neither of you cared. you two had built a very much silent rivalry between you, always trying to be better than the other or just mocking the other whenever the chance presented itself. you found it fun from the very beginning, amd akutagawa at first found it annoying but too had found some entertainment in it.

none one knows quite why you both started the rivalry, not even you two. you just knew that this rivalry had gone on for a while and never ceased to be entertaining. and eventually you bith equally felt as if there was something more between you, not just the petty rivalry but something much deeper. sadly, neither of you had the courage to speak up about.

but now he wished he did. after all this time he wished you had stayed with him just a bit longer, to help him figure out these feelings that you had spurred in him. it seemed unfair. but here you were, presumed dead in the middle of battle with akutagawa as a witness. he couldn't believe it, he almost wanted to be angry at you for leaving him, for dying. but he knew that was selfish as this couldn't be helped. or maybe it could and he didn't try hard enough.

to a passerby he would seem unfased by the whole ordeal. but to people closer to him, for example gin, they would notice his slightly more vacant stare, the look of regret and maybe remorse in his eye. you occupied his mind still, and while he never could say things to you he wished to, he could say them to himself and think of you again and again.

only a day had passed to his surprise, it felt longer atleast. but it was yet another day of work for him made slightly less bearble by your lacking presence. but before he could even get near the building he noticed someone familiar on the steps. there stood you, unfazed and unharmed. he couldn't believe his eyes and demanded an explanation. one you gladly gave him.

he was thankful for your ability, not that he would say it out loud, but it had saved you. but he also wishes you never scare him like that ever again. and may of given you a stern scolding for making him worry.

paul verlaine ★↷

complicated was one way to describe your relationship with the blondette. complicated in more ways than one. you had met through a mutual friend years ago, rimbaud. despite his previous attitudes and personality he seemed act differently towards you and you the same. you both had started a simple sort of rivalry that made it very tempting to tease and make snarky comments toward the other.

but despite this unwavering rivalry, it did seem that you two did get along. if maybe you pushed aside your childlike rivalry you two would have quite the strong friendship. however there were a few reasons for this not happening - mainly to do with verlaine. he did not trust easily and it didn't help you both had similar jobs. hr could feel deep down that you were someone that was genuine, with little thanks to rimbaud being the one to introduce you. but he couldn't help but start these petty arguments as an attempt to push you away.

but as if it was a cruel fate, soon after he had started slowly letting his walls down. he cursed himself over and over again for letting himself let it get to this. a mission gone wrong and now he had watched you die. he felt as if it was a punishment and tried to move on from it but no matter what he could only remember you. he wanted nothing more than to forget that memory or atleast stop cursing himself that he could've done more.

the next morning he had not stopped thinking about you, no matter what he tried he just couldn't move on. that was until rimbaud had walked in and said he had something to show him. that was until you stepped through the doo, perfectly fine. he thought he was the victim of a very cruel trick but quickly realised after your explanation that it was your stupid ability. he was overjoyed of course but he wished you had told him first.

you however couldn't help but tease him about his worrysome state. the smug smile made him realise something. you were someone he probably could trust, someone he wouldn't lose for a very long time.

[tennessoui]

Number 8, please, for hold my heart more gently than you hold my throat

thank you for sending this one in!!! (throat fic verse is a/b/o)

[from this prompt list]

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

you KNOW throat fic obi-wan would rather die than admit to being sick because his master already thinks he's weak and not to be trusted in a fight. he'd be incredibly stubborn about the whole thing and block their bond and try to carry on even if he's got a burning fever and is probably actually a liability in a fight. master anakin is incensed that his padawan has the nerve to block their bond. if he hadn't already fallen years ago due to padawan related strife, he'd definitely fall rn

but then there's also this other side of throat fic obi-wan:

Obi-Wan's head is killing him. Like, physically, actually, really killing him this time. He rolls his head to the side to peer blearily at the chronometer by his bedside. 16:06. On one hand, that can't be right. On the other, it must be. He'd fallen into this bed, fresh from Quinlan's, at roughly 9 in the morning after being a state of perpetual wakefulness the entire night. A combination of death sticks, alcohol, and teenage rebellion does that to a person.

His eyes fall to half-mast as he rolls--carefully--onto his back and stares up at the ceiling of his room. He wonders if Anakin is back yet. He'd left shortly before Obi-Wan the previous night, something about a dinner with Padmé's family. He hadn't sounded excited, but then, how could he have not been? Usually when he leaves the Temple to visit with Padmé, he is gone until the morning.

Obi-Wan wonders bitterly how many nights his master spent with his wife while Obi-Wan was on Melida/Daan. It took him five weeks to track him down. Perhaps he didn't even notice for four.

The thought is more self-pitying than he usually allows, but his body is sore and his head is killing him and his master's probably out there cozying up to senators. Or, even worse, just the one senator.

He gives his bedding a careful sniff before he wrinkles his nose and forces himself to sit up. A change in location is what he needs. He should rot on the couch instead of his bed. It will surely help him feel better. And then, when his master returns from flaunting his lovely relationship with the senator, he can see his padawan's deceased and lifeless corpse on their sectional and feel terribly guilty that he was away as his poor padawan succumbed to his affliction.

Obi-Wan swaddles himself in a comfortable outer robe that he thinks may have once been Anakin's and makes the treacherous journey from his room to the couch. He collapses onto it and curls up around one of their throw pillows, cushioning his aching, poor, hungover head with the other one.

An undeterminable amount of time later, a rough, dry hand falls against his shoulder and then moves up to cup his neck. Without even opening his eyes, Obi-Wan recognizes the touch of his master.

"There you are," Master Skywalker says. He smells like sweat and the training salles. Like mechanical oil and something floral and soft and sweet. Obi-Wan fights against the urge to wrinkle his nose in distaste. "Have you been here all day, padawan?"

"No," Obi-Wan croaks, opening his eyes only enough to see the underside of his master's chin before he closes them again.

"Hm," Master Skywalker says.

"What did you do today, master?" Obi-Wan asks, tilting his head just enough that Anakin's fingers slip from his neck to slide through his hair. He sighs at the feeling. It is so nice. Master Skywalker is so nice when he is here, when he is Obi-Wan's.

Master Skywalker's voice carries a hint of amusement as he obliges and begins to stroke his head. "Hm, I had breakfast with Master Secura, led a class on meditation to the newest batch of younglings, and sparred with Master Fisto until supper." He punctuates his words with a tug of his hair. "Which you missed, by the way."

Obi-Wan turns his face away. He doesn't want Anakin's touch if Anakin is going to be mean about it.

"And now I'm needed at the opera for a performance," his master adds. "Padmé's idea, not mine."

Obi-Wan's frown increases tenfold. It isn't fair. She already had him for a night. He's Obi-Wan's master. How dare she think her claim extends further than the Temple's doorstep.

"Master," he says impulsively, turning back to look up at Anakin with pleading eyes, "I'm not feeling well, Master."

"I suspect that may be because of the amount you drank last night, padawan," Master Skywalker replies, tone strangely light as his fingers run down the length of Obi-Wan's face.

Obi-Wan frowns. "I think I really am very sick, master," he says. "I shouldn't be alone, I don't think."

Master Skywalker's eyes flash. His hand stills.

"But if you're going to be at the opera tonight, I suppose--I can manage," he adds. It's a delicate line to walk. If Anakin weren't planning to go see his--his--wife, then Obi-Wan would never admit to feeling unwell. But he is. So, Obi-Wan must. It is the natural order of things. Anakin is Obi-Wan's master. No matter the root cause of his sickness--his hangover--his master should stay with him when he feels so wretched.

"I can call Quin again," he mutters, even as he tilts his face into Anakin's featherlight touch. His master's face darkens like an approaching thunderstorm. "If I start to feel really poorly. He can take care of me."

Master Skywalker's lips turn down into a fierce scowl, and Obi-Wan holds his breath. "No," he snaps, and Obi-Wan has to bite his lip to hold back his automatic purr. "No, I'll stay in tonight. If my padawan is feeling unwell...I should stay."

Obi-Wan bites his lip. It's only been six weeks since they'd arrived back on Coruscant from Melida/Daan. He shouldn't push his luck. He's lucky to still have Anakin's attention at all. To still have a master. "But what about the opera?" he asks carefully, sitting up on his elbows to peer at his master. "The senator will want you."

Once more, Master Skywalker's eyes flash, and he slips onto the couch next to Obi-Wan, resting his thigh in the space where his head had been. His hand falls back to rest on his neck, using the grip to push him back down. Obi-Wan goes easily. This is perhaps everything he's ever wanted in the galaxy.

"Unfortunately, I will have to let her know that priorities have shifted," Master Skywalker murmurs as his hand falls back to that scent-gland beneath his ear. He thumbs at it. If Obi-Wan didn't feel quite so close to nausea due to his hangover, he thinks he'd be getting wet from the sensation. "Mine have at least."

They're strange words, yet Obi-Wan welcomes them because they mean that Anakin will stay. It is everything he wants; it is far more than he deserves.

[avatar-anna]

New Boot Scootin'

"Okay, so it's right right, left left, then right, left, right and kick your butt."

"Right right, left left..." Harry murmured to himself, slowly walking through the steps as he spoke.

You watched him go through the first few steps from your spot onstage. Even though tonight was the night of the last show, everything was surprisingly normal, business as usual. Harry woke up practically on top of you—according to him it was better than one of you stealing all the blankets—you both shared croissants and cappuccinos at a little cafe by the hotel you were staying at, then walked hand in hand to the venue, stopping at any little shops that caught your eye. Rehearsals were longer than usual, seeing as the final show for Love on Tour was set to have extra songs, but you sat and watched the whole thing, offering praise and opinions when Harry asked.

Everyone had dispersed after rehearsals, and you and Harry were in his dressing room, practicing some dance moves so he could perform them later that night. Some fans had taught you the "boot scoot" the other night while you were standing on the outskirts of the pit. You'd always admired the atmosphere in that particular section of the pit and clapped along whenever fans began to do their signature dance during Treat People With Kindness. When they asked you to join in, you felt kind of honored, and fell in with a small group of fans excitedly.

Of course, Harry saw you dancing, though he hadn't mentioned it much outside of a little teasing—all playful, of course. When rehearsals ended today, though, he asked if you would walk him through the dance.

"That's it. You're getting it!" you said, watching as your boyfriend raised his arm above his head and swung it around. He looked cute, and a little silly in his Love on Tour tracksuit, but he wasn't half bad. Harry was always self-deprecating about his ability to dance, or lack thereof, but he wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be.

When he finally stopped, he turned to look at you. "That's it?"

"That's it, bub. Easy, right?" you said, opening your arms up to him. He came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You gonna be there in case I miss a step?"

You reached up on your tiptoes to kiss his chin. Harry was a good few inches taller than you and usually had no problem reminding you. Sometimes he came up behind you and used your head as an armrest, or a headrest if he was feeling particularly cheeky. Sometimes, if he thought you weren't paying enough attention to him, he'd take your phone or book or whatever was keeping you busy and hold it high above his head. Harry could tease all he liked, but you knew he loved the size difference between the two of you, though cuddling did pose a problem seeing as he often demanded to be the little spoon.

"I don't know," you said. "I promised a couple fans from the last show that I would be in the same spot as last time."

"Did you really?"

You shrugged. "It's not a big deal. They asked if I would be there for the last show and I said sure, but if you want me backstage, I can—"

"No, no it's okay. It's cool that you're making friends with fans," he said, a small grin spreading across his face. "Just be backstage before it's all over. I want you to be the first person I see when I get off."

"You got it," you said, giving him a mock-salute.

Harry's face softened. "Promise?"

Reaching up, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and gave him a kiss. His arms tightened around your waist, especially when your hands slipped into his hair. You pulled away from him before things got too heated, but Harry was content to stay close, leaning down so his forehead was resting against yours.

"Promise."

[summer-princess]

Part of the Game (Alessia Russo x Leah Williamson)

Summary: Alessia's return to Manchester doesn't quite go to plan. In the aftermath, Leah takes her mind off of things.

Originally posted on my ao3 in October after *that * match, but I decided (for reasons unknown) to start posting some of my stuff here!

Disclaimer: obviously fiction

🔞 minors dni

Alessia was trying not to take it too personally.

It was just part of the game, she told herself. Just part of the game.

But that didn't make it any easier to hear the jeers and the insults from the same fans who were, this time last year, cheering her on.

Her former teammates had been beyond kind, and some of them had even approached her at halftime with frantic apologies on behalf of their fans. Ella had glared daggers at the section of the stands where the loudest jeers were coming from, and the sight of her best friend poised on the edge of violence on her behalf had, admittedly, cheered Alessia a bit. But now that she was back at the team hotel, the blonde forward couldn't stop hearing the fans' cruel chants echoing in her ears, over and over again.

With nothing to distract her from it, the roaring of the crowd brought an unwelcome moisture to Alessia's eyes and, wiping angrily at any stray tear that dared to attempt an escape, she resolved to settle in for the night. She would return to London in the morning and put this behind her.

Just as she was about to pull the covers over herself and start trying to get to sleep, a gentle knock at her door forced the Arsenal forward to rise from her bed. One hand still tucked in the front pocket of her sweatshirt, Alessia swung the door open to reveal her guest.

Leah hadn't traveled with the team, but she had made her way to Manchester to attend the match. While Beth was on the brink of her return, the same couldn't be said for her national teammate- Leah was still a good way off stepping back on the pitch for a competitive match, but just having the England captain around the squad brought a significant boost in morale.

Alessia wished that she didn't know why Leah was here, though, at her door. The older woman took one look at the former United player's red-rimmed eyes and, suspicions confirmed, gently nudged her way past her teammate and into Alessia's room, laying a hand on the younger's shoulder and rubbing it gently.

"Hi, Leah," whispered Alessia, immediately cursing herself for how small her voice sounded and hoping that Leah hadn't noticed the little tremble of her lower lip.

That proved to be a futile hope as Leah sat down on Alessia's bed, opening her arms for her national teammate. Joining England's captain on the mattress, Alessia allowed herself to be pulled into Leah's side. The little kiss pressed to the side of her head didn't surprise her as much as it once might have- since signing for Arsenal, the blonde forward had quickly become acquainted with the vast amount of physical affection shown between teammates, with random hugs from behind and lingering touches relatively constant. Besides, even though she was somewhat reluctant to admit it to herself, the merest brush of Leah's lips against her skin was enough to send a warm shiver through her whole body.

"I'm so sorry they treated you like that, Alessia. You didn't deserve any of that."

Alessia shrugged, shuffling closer to the older woman. Leah's words didn't erase the ache, but they did plaster over the worst of the cracks. Even though Leah was only two years older than she was, the defender somehow seemed far beyond her years, her soft comfort exactly what Alessia needed.

"Thanks, Leah," whispered Alessia, leaning into the feeling of Leah's hand gently rubbing her back.

Leah's back was pressed against the pillows of Alessia's bed, the younger woman tucked into her side, half-seated but just one motion away from being flat on her back. The older woman's lithe hand came up to brush a stray tear away and, as she did, her eyes locked on Alessia's watery ones. Something flashed across Leah's face, something that Alessia couldn't quite read. Whatever it was made Leah take her own bottom lip between her teeth and bite at it gently, gaze raking up and down the teammate in her arms.

Slowly, she leaned down, closer, and Alessia's breath froze in her lungs. If she didn't know any better, she would say that the way Leah's mouth opened indicated something like desire. But that was impossible- here she was, jumping to ridiculous and fantastical conclusions as her teammate was only trying to comfort.

Right?

The blonde defender's thin fingers traced up her cheeks, stroking the bones there, searching for something in Alessia's face as the younger woman stared back, wide-eyed.

Leah's face was less than an inch from her own, gazing into Alessia's astonished eyes as the younger woman's cheeks flushed, quite unable to believe that this was actually happening, that what she instinctively knew that Leah was thinking was what was truly running through the older woman's mind. There was no way, no way this was real.

But it was- once a little nod from Alessia at the older woman's raised eyebrow established her consent, Leah was leaning down and pressing her lips to Alessia's. The kiss was gentle at first, the blonde defender's mouth taking control of the embrace as she explored Alessia's mouth with her own.

The coil in Alessia's stomach, the muted desire she always felt whenever Leah was this close, tightened, causing her to press her thighs together without a thought. Leah spotted the movement with ease, even through the kiss, and Alessia could feel how the older woman's lips parted in an eager grin. Hands wandering as she continued to kiss Alessia, Leah sought out the waistband of the younger woman's shorts.

“Oh, sweetheart,” said Leah, cradling the younger blonde against her chest as her fingers slipped down the front of Alessia’s bottoms, splaying against her lower tummy as she awaited permission to take things further.

“Let me take your mind off everything?”

Alessia let out a low whine, nodding and melting into her captain's touch. She could feel Leah's confident smirk as the defender tilted her younger teammate's head up, pressing another kiss to her lips, still slightly parted from where Leah's mouth first made contact. Still gentle, Leah's lips were nevertheless insistent, leaving no question as to who was controlling the kiss.

Not that Alessia minded, of course.

Especially when Leah's fingers breached the barrier of her panties, a single finger sliding through the gathered desire at her entrance. A second finger brushed against Alessia's clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves responding immediately to her touch.

"Oh, Lessi," cooed Leah, trying and failing to conceal the way her voice dropped, breath catching in her throat, suddenly very dry.

"Is this all for me?

Alessia nodded, and the older blonde leaned down to give her another kiss, even as she wetted the tips of her fingers with the forward's own arousal, bringing them up to stroke firmly at her swollen clit. The bundle of nerves sang under her touch, the pads of Leah's fingers rubbing firmly at the sensitive spot and forcing Alessia's eyes closed for a moment as she acclimated to the pleasure of fingers that weren't her own.

“Leah,” whined Alessia, rocking her hips into the defender’s touch. Leah's fingers were long and slender, pressed together as they drew circles around her teammate's swollen clit. Alessia's teeth came down to bite her lower lip, trying to disguise the moans that Leah was extracting from her with borderline humiliating ease. Her cunt clenched around nothing, pleading for more in a way that her voice couldn't.

The fabric of Alessia's bottoms hampering her fingers, Leah lifted them momentarily away from the forward's clit and, ignoring the younger woman's whine of protest at the loss of contact, yanked down her shorts and panties in one fluid motion.

Flushing scarlet, Alessia dared a glance up at her captain, a fresh wave of arousal gathering at her core when she saw how dark Leah's eyes had gotten, the older woman's intense gaze locked on the spot between her thighs. When she saw Alessia looking at her, Leah leaned down to give her another bruising kiss, using her own lips to pry Alessia's mouth open, devouring the younger woman.

"Fuck," Leah moaned into Alessia's mouth.

"Fuck, Lessi, baby, you're so beautiful."

The blush coating Alessia's cheeks deepened from pink to red, the forward feeling suddenly shy under Leah's scrutiny. Sure, this wasn't the first time that Leah had seen her body- they had been national teammates for years. But to have Leah see her like this, tank top askew and revealing the muscles of her strong stomach, bottoms discarded on the floor and no way to hide the pool of arousal that was growing bigger with every passing second, and find her beautiful... Alessia was fairly certain that she was going to die.

Leah's fingers quickly found a new pattern, the fingers which had just been stroking her clit gripping the nub gently and beginning to tug at it. With every fresh wave of sensation she provided to Alessia, Leah was rewarded with the forward's sinful noises in her ears. Alessia sounded like an absolute dream- the younger woman was so responsive, so wound up for her, and Leah's heart swelled unexpectedly at how right it felt to be the one inflicting this pleasure on her.

"Can I use my fingers on you, baby? Can I put them in?"

Alessia moaned her agreement at Leah's sudden request and was rewarded with a kiss to her neck, the older woman's lips crossing the sensitive skin, letting just the barest hint of teeth scrape across the forward's pulse point. Permission granted, Leah didn't need a second invitation as she stroked Alessia's soaking hole with one finger, the others continuing to work against the younger woman's clit. The younger blonde's copious arousal coated Leah's digit, tracing the warm and wet entrance of Alessia's perfect body.

Alessia whimpered as Leah let the single finger slip inside her soaking cunt. The digit, thoroughly coated, moistened by Alessia's own juices, slipped easily in, and the forward's eyes slammed shut as Leah pressed deeper inside her. It was only one finger, and not a very thick one, but the sensation of having her national team captain sliding inside of her, claiming her pussy with her gentle touch, was enough to make Alessia clench down around Leah as the older woman's thumb continued tracing unidentifiable patterns on her throbbing clit.

Leah waited a moment before giving into the instinct to move her finger, giving Alessia time to adjust to the welcome intrusion. Then, she began to thrust, curling her fingers to try and reach the places that would bring the forward the most pleasure.

"Such a good girl," cooed Leah as she fucked her younger teammate. "Doin' so good for me."

As soon as she was sure that she could take it without pain, Leah slipped a second finger into Alessia's soaking pussy, holding back a low moan of her own as the younger woman's velvety walls pulled her in. The forward was tight, tighter than she'd expected her to be even after the first finger, and so Leah waited until the younger woman shifted her hips, trying to get more friction, before she started moving her fingers gently in and out again. The gentle scrape of Leah's long digits against Alessia's walls made the forward whine loudly.

"Mmm," chuckled Leah. "You like my fingers inside of you, honey?"

Leah's voice was smooth and sinful as the younger woman's eyes slammed closed, head shaking rapidly up and down in confirmation of the rhetorical question. The nod wasn't enough for Leah, though, as she whispered into Alessia's ear.

"Words, gorgeous," she cooed, and the prolonged moan that the demand drew from Alessia's mouth was almost enough to make Leah abandon any plans she had to be gentle with the younger woman and throw Alessia's legs over her shoulders and fuck her, hard, until she passed out from the pleasure.

"Fuck, Lee," whined the blonde forward. "Please, it feels so good!"

"What feels so good, baby girl?"

"Your fingers," sobbed Alessia, shifting her hips to try and get Leah deeper inside of her. Her answer, barely coherent, drew a satisfied smile from the older woman as she increased her pace.

"That's it, honey. Opening up so perfectly for me.

"Eyes open, doll," said Leah, dripping confidence as she worked her two fingers in and out of Alessia's soaked pussy. She was almost tempted, based on how well Alessia's walls were stretching to accommodate the more than welcome intrusion, to try and add a third finger before shaking her head at the idea- the moment she did that, the poor girl wouldn't be able to hold back, if the way her cunt was clenching was any indication.

God, the way Alessia made her want to leave her better angels by the wayside...

"I want to see your face. Want to watch how well you take my fingers."

The effort seemed Herculean to Alessia as she forced her eyes back open, gaze quickly locking on Leah as the older woman concentrated wholly on her pleasure, on driving anything cruel or sad from Alessia's mind and replacing it with the ecstasy of her touch.

Meeting Leah's eyes with the older woman's fingers buried deep inside of her, taking her apart, brought Alessia to another level entirely. Seeing the refreshed tears at the corners of the forward's eyes, Leah had to bite back her own noises of arousal, muffling them with Alessia's lips.

"Don't care what anyone says," hummed Leah into Alessia's neck as her lips moved up and down, leaving little marks on the sensitive skin that Alessia hoped would remain in the morning, talented fingers continuing their welcome assault on the younger woman's soaking core.

"You're so good. So talented. So pretty and sensitive and perfect. My good girl."

As Leah spoke, her fingers curling into the sensitive spot that made the forward see stars, Alessia's mind was sinking deeper into a haze of pleasure, Leah's hands on her rendering any other concerns vacant. Nothing mattered but Leah, England's captain methodically taking her to pieces.

The way Leah's low voice strung her phrases together made her want to cry again. My good girl, Leah was calling her. She hadn't expected to love the sound of those three words as much as she did, hadn't expected the thought of being Leah's to draw a high-pitched breath from her throat, a noise that was quickly swallowed by Leah's mouth returning to claim her lips once again.

She could feel the coil tightening impossibly further, begging to snap. Before she even knew what was happening, Alessia found herself teetering on the edge of orgasm, Leah's expert fingers and sinful voice working her higher and higher, clouding her brain, mouth wide open as she moaned.

“Do you need to come, baby? Hm?”

Alessia nodded desperately into Leah’s neck, the thought of her upcoming orgasm at her captain's hands sending a fresh wave of pleasure through the younger Arsenal player's body.

"Please, Leah," she whined, too out of her mind with desire to care who might be able to hear her desperate begging through the walls. "Please, I need it!"

At the younger blonde's pleading request, Leah sped up her thrusts, curling her fingers into the sensitive muscle and massaging it mercilessly while her strong thumb pressed hard on Alessia's swollen bundle of nerves. The forward was senseless with pleasure, the need to come consuming her every thought.

"Oh, sweetheart," cooed Leah, voice saccharine and coaxing and straight out of Alessia's most private fantasies. "Come for me, Lessi. Let go. Come for me, be a good girl for me."

The older woman's long fingers continued their movement while her thumb rubbed steadily across her swollen clit. Hearing Alessia's desperate moans, Leah dragged her teeth across the sensitive skin of the forward's lower jaw, and that was the last little bit of contact that Alessia needed to crash over the edge of the cliff, every muscle contracting and releasing as her orgasm overtook her.

“There we go,” cooed Leah softly as Alessia flooded her fingers with her orgasm. Capturing her cries of pleasure with another kiss, Leah continued fucking her gently. The younger woman's nails dug into Leah's shoulder as she clung to the other blonde, small half-moon indents pressed into the silken skin grounding the former United player to the bed beneath them. Alessia's sweaty head fell back onto the pillow as she gasped, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure still wracking her body.

She wasn't quite sure how long her orgasm lasted, only that Leah's fingers never paused their movements, wringing every ounce of Alessia's climax from her tired muscles.

"So perfect," soothed Leah as the waves ebbed, catching a gasp with her lips.

It took Alessia a moment to come back to herself, certain that if she tried to stand on her wobbling legs, it would send her tumbling to the floor. Seeing the younger woman shudder, Leah couldn't help but smile, a hint of smugness coating her lips, swollen from Alessia's kisses. The blonde forward looked so beautiful, so wrecked and perfect, and it was all Leah's own doing. Even though she was certain there would be a dark spot on her bottoms, Leah's own arousal was barely an afterthought for the defender.

For the younger Englishwoman, however, it was anything but.

As she slowly regained control of her muscles, the first thing Alessia did was reach tiredly towards Leah's waistband- even from her position, cradled between the pillow and the older woman's arms, she could tell that the defender was wet. That making Alessia come as hard as she ever had in her entire life, clearing her brain of any negative emotion and replacing it with pure pleasure, had certainly affected England's captain. Even as her hands connected with fabric, that realization sent a surging satisfaction through Alessia's prone form.

“Oh, no, no, sweetest,” whispered the defender into her younger teammate’s hair, taking Alessia's wandering hand in her own and giving the forward's knuckles a kiss. “Don’t you worry about me. You’re almost asleep already, you can show me what that pretty mouth can do another day.”

Alessia’s tired pussy spasmed in interest, sending a little shudder through her exhausted body, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Leah. The defender chuckled gently, brushing a lock of hair out of Alessia's eyes.

"You like the sound of that, don't you, darling? Like the sound of putting your tongue to good use and making me feel so good?"

Alessia nodded sleepily, puckering up her lips. Leah acquiesced to the silent request with a soft smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the younger woman's mouth.

"Wanna make you feel good," whined Alessia into Leah's mouth, drawing another fond chuckle from her national team captain's perfect lips.

"Don't worry, pretty girl," cooed Leah. "I'll let you show me how good you can be for me another day."

The younger woman was drifting, too close to sleep to properly express just how perfect that sounded, but the way she nuzzled closer to Leah conveyed the message well enough. Pulling the covers up over both of them, Leah dropped a gentle kiss to the top of Alessia's head, the younger woman practically cradled in her embrace.

Leah's hands stroking through her blonde hair, the echo of the older woman's praises repeating in her hears, drowning out the noise of the unfriendly crowd, guided Alessia to sleep.

[denaliwrites]

Road to Hell

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Of all the subjects Crowley thought he might walk in on you researching in the bookshop, demonology was probably at the bottom of the list.

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Crowley is a dick (affectionate).

"What're you reading today?" Crowley asked, towering over you with a contemplative look. You lifted the book for him to see and in return he offered a shocked choking sound in the back of his throat. "Demonology, huh? What... inspired you to read that?"

He hadn't told you anything about him and Aziraphale being a demon and an angel, respectively. As far as he knew, Aziraphale hadn't broached the topic with you, either. To him, there was absolutely no reason for you to be reading about anything even remotely connected to his or Aziraphale's status as supernatural beings.

Yet here you were.

Reading a book on demonology.

You shrugged in response to his question, bringing the book back down to your lap to read comfortably. "I'd never checked out the occult section before, so I decided to read something from there and this was the most interesting looking book on the whole shelf."

"Ah, right." That did, to Crowley's immense relief, make sense. You'd read at least one book from nearly every section in the bookshop -- why wouldn't you, at some point, venture into the occult?

"Can't help but wonder how accurate it is, though," you mused aloud. "Pretty sure we've all collectively decided that demonic possessions are all just mentally ill people being misunderstood and abused by the church, right? Or I guess sometimes maybe people seeking attention? So how much of this is, like... considered true, I guess?"

"Do you... believe in demons?" Crowley asked carefully.

"Not really. I mean, I feel like if they were real, we'd have more evidence than just... the church saying so? Like, surely atheists and Satanists would've met a ton of demons by now, but I don't see any atheists or Satanists ever talking about meeting demons."

Crowley had to admit that was a fair cop. Maybe a little... small-minded, at least cosmically speaking, but you were but a human. That could be excused.

"What if they were real?" he asked, coming to sit on the arm of the chair you occupied. "What if you met a demon? Knew a demon, even?"

You made a sound at the back of your throat that sounded an awful lot like the one he made. "I'd have a lot of things I needed to reconsider, for starters."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well," you started, closing the book and turning so that you were facing him. "If demons were real, then I think the next logical step would be that angels were real, and if angels were real then the next step from that point would be that God's real."

He rocked back slightly to better look at you, clicking his tongue curiously. "Is that so bad, really?"

You sighed dramatically. It was a sound he loved -- it usually came before something remarkably human. Something remarkably You. "Anthony Janthony Cranthony," you lamented, "I cannot ever, under any circumstances, let my parents know that I regret not going to church more."

Anthony Janthony Cranthony? Why had you called him that? Of all things, to go with Anthony Janthony Cranthony...

He supposed that wasn't really the point to what you were saying. Something about your parents and church, though, that was the point.

"Not sure why they'd have to know," he said casually with a shrug.

Your eyes widened in shocked realization. "Oh, fuck, you're right! They'd never have to know. You're brilliant," you said, to him -- you'd called him brilliant! He beamed at that. "Going to Hell anyway, if all that were real, may as well add 'disrespecting my parents' to my list of sins."

Oh.

"Why do you think you'd go to Hell, darling?"

"It's not like I've been living a pious life, y'know?" you said, blinking up at him. "I curse, I've fucked out of wedlock, I'm reading all about demons and witchcraft and shit. I don't believe in God? I'm pretty sure that's one of the big no-nos."

It was his turn to blink, but his was followed up with a laugh. "Oh, love, God does not care about any of those things. Trust me."

"Oh, God, are you a Christian? Have you been this whole time? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend--"

"No, no, nothing like that. I..."

How did he tell you? Should he even tell you? He was sure Aziraphale might have something to say on the matter, but right now he couldn't be fucked, because you were here, looking up at him so innocently, so adoringly.

"What is it, Crowley?" And you sounded so concerned, so ready to take him into your arms and comfort him and apologize for a crime you hadn't even committed.

"I'm a demon."

The words tumbled forth from his lips before he could stop himself, and they hovered in the air for several silent and tense moments after, where all you did was stare at him.

And then you laughed -- and he wished he could laugh too. Hell, he wished he could hear even a trace of joy in your laugh. But it was all nerves and fear, like you weren't sure if this was some sick joke or if he was delusional.

When his expression didn't change, when he didn't yell out "sike!" or "gotcha!," your laugh died and then you just looked scared of him.

It nearly broke him, because if this was how you reacted before proof, how would you react when he showed you the truth?

But you didn't run away, so he carefully removed his glasses and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Yours were locked onto the yellow irises, the slitted pupils that contracted and dilated at will.

He could tell you wanted to deny the reality of them -- that you wanted to write them off as contacts, but they wouldn't let you, because contacts couldn't dilate.

The only other things he could do -- well, within the confines of the bookshop, were show you his wings or turn into a snake. He wasn't huge on the latter option, at least not right now -- it definitely put him at a disadvantage, made him easier to discorporate.

So, instead, he moved to a stand. And his wings fanned out as you watched, and then, he figured, you'd run out the door screaming, never to be seen again. He hoped you lived well. He closed his eyes so that he didn't have to watch you walk away.

You got up -- he could hear the rustling of fabric, the relieved groan of the chair, the book falling onto the cushion. He expected the little bell above the door to signal your departure at any moment.

Instead, he felt your hands on his face, pulling him nearer to you. His eyes opened, stared into yours. The fear had gone, replaced by unabashed curiosity and deep, untamed love.

He expected many things to come out of that lovely mouth of yours. So God is real? Am I going to Hell? I don't want to go to Hell! What did I do to deserve going to Hell???

(You weren't going to Hell -- but after the initial question, people tended to panic and vomit the others out uncontrollably.)

He expected those questions. A handful of a select few others. He did not anticipate what you actually asked --

"Do you have a cool demon name?"

"A... Sorry, a what?"

"You know... Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Belial. What's your demon name?"

"O-oh... No... no 'cool' demon name, I'm afraid. Just... Just Crowley..."

He hadn't expected to be embarrassed and doubly hadn't expected to see a beaming smile on your face.

"I think Crowley's the coolest demon name, personally."

He could see in your eyes that you meant it -- and that made him smile.

"Isn't it just?" he asked with a relieved laugh.

"Now I gotta know what all you've done as a demon. I mean -- how old are you?"

"Old as the universe, darling."

He could see the moment your brain started trying to process that unfathomable information, and he could also see the moment it gave up. You moved on as if nothing happened, but Crowley took a moment to appreciate he wouldn't have to miracle your memories away before your brain went into nuclear meltdown.

"Why aren't you in Hell?"

"It's dreadfully boring."

"Why are you here?"

"I just think humans are neat... and your lot is very good at making booze."

"Have you done anything cool as a demon?"

"I met Shakespeare, I stopped some Nazi spies, I tempted Eve, I stopped Armageddon..."

"You what!?"

"Oh, yeah..." He made that sound in his throat. You copied it, seemingly from instinct. He wasn't even sure you noticed that you did it. "Long story, but Aziraphale and I convinced the Antichrist to just... not do the whole ending the world thing."

"Who's Aziraphale?"

"Oh. Right. Mr. Fell."

"... Mr. Fell? This Mr. Fell?" You motioned to the bookshop at large and Crowley nodded. "Is he a demon too?"

Crowley laughed -- an uproarious, barking laugh, that lasted much longer than was strictly necessary.

"Oh, you better not let him hear that," he said once he'd calmed down.

"... So he's not a demon?" you mumbled, and Crowley realized he'd accidentally made you feel bad.

He took one of your hands in his and guided it away from his face so that he could kiss the palm. "No, darling, he's not." He kissed your palm again. "He's an angel."

"I'm sorry -- he's a what?"

"An angel, of course. Really, like he could be anything else."

Nothing against him, of course, but he very much was what he was.

"So why are an ageless angel and demon wasting their time with me, a human who'll wither and die? Why go through that for me?"

"Well, it's not exactly our fault you weaseled your way into our lives," he said with an indignant hgk. "But now that you're here, we can't really imagine the place without you."

"I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, and I can't believe it came from a demon."

"Don't let the angel know I let you get away with calling me sweet. He'd never let me live it down."

[thecowinblack]

Broken promises pt.4

Moodboard Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Reader x Eris

Summary: New inhabitants in the Autumn Court and some real explanation to the last parts ending...

Warnings: Fluff

A/n: Hi everyone! I'm soooo sorry this took so freaking long to make. I've literally had no inspiration for this universe but I decided to write a short part and see if it comes back! I love you all /Thecowinblack💕💕💕

A/n 2.0: Oh and imagine that Nesta hasn't yet been forced to live at the house of wind, for the sake of my story line.

The realization hit you hard.Your whole childhood had been a lie. Everything from your moment's with your mother, no adopted mother to the moments with your brothers back in the war camps. Nothing had been real, because you weren't his sister. You didn't have a brother. You didn't even have real parents, The Mother obviously didn't count. Not more than the King of Hybern counted as Elain or Nestas father. Everything was like a long forgotten memory, a memory that always existed in your brain, just blurry. And now it was totally clear.

You'd been created by the Mother. As a tool on earth. You could see things, like a seer but instead of seeing the future you could see your creator's wishes. But still. There was something that still was blurry, something about your powers. The one's that even frightened Armen.

You realized that you'd arrived at your door. The door to the room that you and Eris shared. You opened the door. Wondering how the hell you were supposed to tell Eris this. Walking in you could see him spread out on the couch, reading something.

“Eris, I need to talk to you about something.”

__________________________________

You and Eris had arrived back at your estate a couple days ago. Everything that you'd learned you'd told him. From the fact that you weren't Rhysands sister to your powers. All of it. And somehow he hadn't been confused, he had understood.

“Y/N come on, I'm dying of hunger!” Eris called out from the staircase.

“I'm on my way!” You shouted back.

Running down to the dining room you saw Lucien and… Nesta. You quickly pulled her in for a hug.

“What are you two doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in the Night court?” You asked them.

“Fayre and Rhysand made an ultimatum, stay in the House of wind with no alcohol and train and work in the library, bla bla bla or move out of the court. I thought of what you said at the meeting so I decided to come here.” Nesta said to you.

“I couldn't deal with Elain and Azriel anymore so I just decided to leave. You guys are okay with us staying here right?” Lucien told you and Eris.

“Of course, let's eat and then I can show you around Nes!”

Dinner was amazing and you later pulled Nesta with you, leaving your husband and his brother to talk alone.

“Do you want to see the library?” You asked her. Nesta nodded and you opened the large oak doors behind you. The walls were covered in bookshelves with books in all colors. You could see Nestas eyes lit up. You knew this library was bigger than any in the Night court, and filled with romance. You guided her over to that section and she quickly grabbed a couple books.

“Can the rest of the tour wait until tomorrow?” She asked you and you started to laugh and to your surprise did too. A big smile painted your lips as you grabbed your own book and the two of you sat down on the closet couch, just reading.

__________________________________

A/n: I know that this one was really short but I'll probably write another really soon! Bye byeee!

Taglist: @queerqueenlynn @se7enteen--black-blog @mybestfriendmademe @cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @st4r-girl-official

[aloboguara]

The Kiss

Note: It would be only a couple of sentences to frame my illustrations, but uh... *awkward staring at the whole thing*

"Instead, he moved his thumb away from her mouth, completing the stroke on the side of her face.  Galadriel opened her eyes, tears gathering and overflowing, confused.  Inquisitive.  Pleading.  The seconds seemed to drag by, but none had really passed.  The grip on his chest seemed to loosen a fraction, his inner beast of gold and silver hair coiling in unblinking expectation.  Elrond lowered his lips to hers. "

If you want to read the whole thing, it's on the read more section :D

.

.

Fury

Hatred was too strong a word, too vile and dark for a heart as pure and free of corruption as Elrond's.  

But fury?  

Fury was an emotion very pertaining to both Elves and Men and each of his feet was firmly planted on the boundary between the two races, even if he had chosen immortality.  

The suffocating thorns of this emotion sharpened outwards, towards Adar, sitting at the table as if on a throne, as if he were already twirling victory between his fingers, a fortune-deciding coin. He spoke of names sacred to Elrond, and profaned memories that should not be disturbed. Adar undervalued him for favouring diplomacy over brutality, as if the Half-Elven hadn't been through centuries of trials and feuds, acquiring the wisdom to understand that no war was worth spilling such a precious thing as the blood of his own kind, as long as there was hope. Even the slightest bit of it.  

Meanwhile, inside him, the piercing branches also curled into vines that held his heart captive, climbed up his throat and formed a knot, forcing tears to form in his eyes every time they betrayed him and sought out Galadriel, shackled to a log, feigning a trust impossible - or foolish - to feel at that moment.  

Elrond was furious that his weakness for the elf was so obvious that even a Moriondor who had never met him before could take advantage of it. Fury for feeling as vulnerable seeing her now as he did when he first met her as a young orphan. She, an elf so fierce and unwavering by day - unable to be stopped by seen or unseen forces. By starlight and hidden from onlookers so gentle that a flower uprooted from the earth would refuse to die in her presence, lest it cause her to weep.  

He kept his unchanging reminiscences of Galadriel in a pouch encrusted with gems and sealed with seven mithril bolts, hidden so deeply within his soul that not even Sauron would be able to coax them out into the open - Elrond's single act of selfishness.  

The fond memories of turning into someone who could trust her and be trusted by her. Her best friend, who held her while she mourned for her husband. Who became an equal in battle. Who could duel with her using words, spending time finding and poking at vulnerable points in her persona to see the wrinkles of indignation forming on her fair face - exchanging barbs and childish laughter. 

She filled the gaping hole that the people who left him had dug in his chest, the shape of her somewhat awkward, slightly different from that of a family member, whose presence nonetheless closed the gaps that loneliness and longing for a lost home threatened to tear apart. She tucked herself tightly between his lungs, writing her name again and again on the inside of his ribs, signing him like an object belonging to her, the pain of the quill scraping him and erasing all other kinds of suffering as she scribbled:  

Galadriel Galadriel Galadriel Gal- 

She always noticed when he would hide himself away, lost in thought for hours under The Great Tree, staring up at the evening star and hoping to see his father's proud smile through the beams of light to the point where his eyes would water. They would sit together on the tree roots by the waterfall until Elrond felt his frustration fade with the breeze on his cheeks. As she stroked his hair, her long and slender fingers - not calloused by the repeated use of the sword - would weave tiny braids that he would find the next day when he woke up to the sun kissing his face, his head resting on her lap as she hummed songs from Valinor, her hand never ceasing its caresses. 

Songs he knew had been taught by Finrod and belonged only to the listening ears of Elrond and no other being before or since. 

He was so proud to be the haven to which she returned. She, who also didn't have that many friends as she carried too heavy a load on her shoulders. He was the gate through which she entered, shedding all the violence, all the bitterness, all the grief outside. 

But as soon as he thought he had caught up with her and completely deciphered her thoughts; as soon as this emotional and physical closeness reached a cliff from which the only way out was to jump over the edge, she escaped. She would run before he realized the hidden peril. The notion had not even crossed his mind that their friendship could be threatened, especially by themselves. 

Galadriel would vanish on her quests, gathering skills and expertise he could only dream of under the young blades that shaded Lindon. And when decades and a more composed heart later she returned - covered in mud and blood and with a tired, victorious smile adorning her face - his soul, accustomed to chanting soft melodies like the swaying of the leaves, faltered as it tried to keep up with the violent rhythm that coursed through his veins at the sight of her. 

One more chance.  

She would share tales of a world he wanted to explore at her side and write down in books, their foreheads pressed together so their exclamations of surprise would be hidden by the sounds of Glanduin's currents; Gil-galad would spot them and chase them away, claiming they were too empty-headed to be walking around causing mischief together. 

“She leads you down paths that are too meandering,” the High King would say - half mockingly, half in despair. “And it doesn't suit your disposition, Elrond, to soak up that wild nature. She's valorous, no question about it, but not every word flows from her mouth like the gold and silver from her hair. Soon you too will be chasing reflections in the water in search of stars, and it's not suitable for me to have to pen my own speeches.” 

At that time, Elrond had attributed these warning as the king's concern for a future Elven Lord. The passing of time has shown him it was fear Elrond would realise the power contained in the resolve to defy what he thought was wrong, even if his opponent wore a crown of leaves upon his brow. 

He learned to armour himself with that resolve, to hide the blades that Galadriel's sharp tongue offered as training in his pockets. In return, he taught her that to run with an open chest towards a sword might work for her in combat, but in times of peace, when the spoken word would cut deeper than the blade, she would always have to walk cautiously and watch out for holes in front of her feet.   

The both of them would dance following the tides as they came and went, sometimes clashing and sometimes covering each other in affection. Nightfall, dark as Elrond's hair, glimpsed the warm waters splashing on the sandy beach. Sunrise, clear as Galadriel's complexion, witnessed the waves crashing relentlessly on the shore. 

Then she would stare at him and all his confidence would crumble. She made him as steadfast as he made her sensible, yes. Two complementary personalities, like flame and oil. But Elrond's oil didn't seem to be enough for Galadriel's ardour, for she still commanded him with those huge blue eyes, deceptively shallow as the most dangerous of still waters.   

She would turn to him and he had the urge to go in the opposite direction, leave her presence and run for weeks to Khazad-dûm without water or a breather for fear she would beg him for something; for if she really used the power of the sapphires upon her face, if she truly put her will behind her request without giving him the chance to look away... who could refuse? And he also felt like running back to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and begging her to demand something of him, anything, so that he could show that he was worthy of the faith those same eyes placed upon him.   

With those very eyes, Galadriel could see into his heart like no one else. Perhaps she didn't recognise it - unlike Elrond, she cared little about the impression she made on others and their response to her - but she could play his thoughts on any scale she wanted, choose the notes that his heart would beat to. If it would beat.   

Ah, the fury once again. The ice-cold rage that ran down his veins to his fingertips when he realised, of all the beings who could also fall prey to Galadriel's spell, one Man - not a Man, but the Deceiver himself - had within months managed to conquer what the Half-Elven's determination had dared not. To know everything behind that mind and shape her thoughts like clay. To harness her soul as an instrument as she had harnessed Elrond's for centuries before. 

Sauron embraced the trust placed upon him as a shield against Elrond and, just as Fëanor's sons did with his family, the Deceiver took Galadriel and then Lord Celebrimbor with him beyond a shore the commander could not follow and risk drowning all his values and beliefs in the dark sea. No longer be the person his friends had learnt to rely on. 

And a much less blazing but equally thorny rage at being forced to promise he would prioritise the Enemy's demise above Galadriel's own life when the time arose. 

Elrond swore, not by the Ring - the discord-causing entity which separated his duties from hers - but by himself, he would do it. That promise was his and his alone. And he only made it with the belief that if Galadriel's life became a bargaining chip, his would already be forfeit. 

Galadriel offered her life for the Ring, or so Elrond assumed, and he had to return with two fewer soldiers - one sorrowfully returned to the ground, the other with an unsure fate - and the ill-fated object in a pocket on his chest. He sprinted like never before, shedding his cloak and his subordinates, in order both to be able to return with an army as soon as possible and to get away from the influence of that which was a physical representation of Sauron's conquest. The symbol of Galadriel placing her fate on him instead of on her closest friend. 

Then the moriondor used her as a white and gold banner hoisted at the forefront of his army as Elrond charged towards a costly but certain victory; and as the first bead of blood was invoked by the uruk's blade - at the first nick the spear made against Galadriel's neck - the commander of the Elves broke his oath. 

It was no wonder that Adar invited him to his camp like he was a vulnerable prey, the way a cat pretends to invite a mouse to play before breaking its body. Elrond had to call on all his centuries of dealing with politicians - and worse, soldiers! - to keep his face fixed and his voice neutral so that Adar wouldn't smell the blood in the water like a sea monster. But the Father of the Orcs surely had realised there was something about Elrond that he could use against Galadriel. Elrond knew that his name had somehow been brought up between the two of them when he saw the gleam of recognition in the moriondor's eyes outside the tent. 

He was waiting for him. And Adar knew that he would return as the commander of an army. Fury once again - but also horror - flared under the skin of his neck.  

“If she speaks again, cut out her tongue.” - Adar purred. 

The sounds of laughter and blades being drawn was all it took for Elrond to almost launch himself over the table and his false composure to be unmasked as an official took a curved dagger to her neck again.  

But he had a plan, and if Galadriel managed to collaborate and stay alive for all those weeks, he wouldn't go back to Lindon alone. He just needed to do what he had regretfully been avoiding ever since Nenya, the ring, began to crowd the Elf-lady's mind: get as near her as possible. As close as it had once felt only natural.   Just close enough to touch her hand. It was all he had to do. 

“...You can save Galadriel.”   

The offer wasn't the opportunity Elrond wanted, but hearing Adar pronounce Galadriel's name with such intimacy made his eyes act on their own and briefly seek her out. Even restrained, he could see she was itching to raise havoc and end it all, only his presence forcing her to act nice. 

She knew how to keep herself in check when she thought it was necessary. She just didn't think it was necessary very often.   

Elrond was pained to imagine what she might have gone through all those days at the hands of the moriondor with her usual petulance. He quickly checked for any detail or sign of torture he might have missed in his first assessment of her, but apart from the first incision she had received in the wagon, which the grotesque official was now forcing with his dagger, no other evidence stood out. She looked a little frail, perhaps, her robes sagging in some places compared to the last time he had seen her, but that could be dealt with. There was no reason to believe that further physical wounds might lurk beneath the fabric, for Adar wouldn't bother marking her without the pleasure of displaying it, and Elrond forced his body to obey and calm down, his mind spinning with possibilities. 

So intent was he on his plan, and so trained in following movements that did not surround Galadriel, that Elrond had to hold himself back when he realised how close Adar had approached, trying to allure him with appeals to his family tree and the terror caused by the imminent mortal risk. 

Two chords struck at once, Elrond took the opportunity to stand up and ask the officer holding the dagger if he was really willing to lay down his life for Adar. The creature's hesitant expression and the whispering that spread among the troops made him rejoice internally at this first little victory and he used this movement to calculate his next steps. 

The second blessing was that his call distracted the officer enough so that the blade no longer blemished Galadriel's neck and it opened Elrond's view of the rest of the tent. 

Uruks stood up in every corner of the structure and only the presence of an anxious, but firm in resolve, Vorohil to cover his back. Neither he nor Galadriel had any means of communicating with Elrond or guess his next course of action. 

"The Ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be?"

Lord Celebrimbor's words rang unbidden in his mind. "True creation requires sacrifice." he said. 

But that creation, Nenya, wasn't worth a single century of Galadriel's existence, let alone her spirit.  

Adar had no need to know that. Elrond would have him believe he was so noble as to protect the future of the Elves in Middle-Earth above a single life. Daemor's silhouette materialized in his peripheral vision, taunting him, and he had to use some of his meager strength to concentrate on not trying to dispel the illusion his mind conjured. “If it was Daemor standing there, would I be risking everything like I am now? Ah Valar, would I have been willing to stop the charge?” 

Elrond couldn't quite remember at that moment whether pure-blood Elves were capable of feeling the shivers or whether it was a trait inherited from Men, but he was sure that he felt snow trickling down the back of his neck and into his armor as he unraveled the threads of that thought. 

The commander stilled his ethical dilemmas and walked past Adar. His hand went up to his shoulder as if he were trying to dispel a strain in his muscles and when it came down, the brooch holding his cloak was no longer there. Even though she was looking straight at him - those huge eyes again, ask me for something, ask me to change places with you, ask me and I'll go - Elrond didn't believe that Galadriel understood his intentions. He hoped, however, that the Uruk's senses were much more geared towards smell than sight, and that the soldier who was still holding her was too dispersed reflecting on his allegiance. As long as Adar – who still retained his Elf-like senses - wasn't looking at him, Elrond hoped that this particular action wouldn't be noticed. 

The metal hidden between his fingers seared and bruised his palm when Elrond had to turn his back on Galadriel and suggest the greatest of all dishonesties: that he would leave her join the other warriors who opposed Sauron in the Halls of Mandos. 

"Very well. I'll meet you there... with her head on a pike." Adar warned, and every word oozed venom and intent. He would do it; Elrond had no doubt. 

The vision that this threat evoked was so disturbing and so unnatural that Elrond had little trouble dispelling it. It would not be brought to the seen realm; he was sure of that. He had come armed with hope and, to ruefully recite Gil-galad, hope is never mere, however meager. 

“If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell.” 

It was time. Now that faith should be worth its weight in Valinor gold. The chance to set the script in motion had finally arrived. All that remained was for the actors to deliver their lines. He needed to hand over Galadriel's before the curtains opened. 

Adar quizzed the first officer with his gaze and, after confirming that Elrond carried no weapons, silently allowed him to approach. 

The soldier carelessly released Galadriel, the knife threatening to draw blood again. Elrond cast one last warning glance at him, an unknown instinct imploring him to drop everything and finish the uruk, but he pulled on the leash of his impulsiveness and turned, at last, to the recipient of all his effort. 

Weeks should be mere droplets in the endless timeline of the Elves, yet he felt as if there was an eternity between the last discussion between Elrond and Galadriel and the moment their eyes finally met. Every word would be heard by a hard-to-please audience and the Peredhel couldn't let any trace of suspicion hang over her. He'd have to convince everyone - including her - that this would be the final parting. 

Galadriel, who was usually prideful and fierce, raised her face without any sign of accusation marring it, only bewilderment at seeing Elrond's face closed off in secrets. Her open expression signaled that she had accepted her fate and would spend her last moments forgiving Elrond for all his wrongdoings up to that point. For doubting her time and time again, for needing to be coerced into helping her after making pledges that he wouldn't hesitate if she asked. She seemed to mean that none of that mattered anymore, the affection reached him like an almost tangible force and he felt the relief of still being able to read a sliver of her heart without her having to utter the words: “Don't harbor any regrets, for I forced you into that promise, old friend. Thank you for keeping it.... Carry out your mission for me, my dear Elrond." 

"Goheno nin." For the theatre audience, the whispered request of forgiveness was for leaving her to die. 

For him, it was in anticipation of what he would do. 

He needed the act to be convincing. In plain terms, he needed a distraction striking enough for him to pass the brooch - a makeshift lockpick- into Galadriel's hands. Her chance to escape the cruel fate Adar hoped to inflict. 

For the Uruk, any sign of intimacy would be of great interest, especially shared between Elves. Brought up in war, mud and toxic gases, unable to feel the sun on their skins, having Galadriel among their troops during these days was the closest these creatures had ever come to the light. 

The physical display of affection by two of their kind was so rare that it would undoubtedly draw everyone's attention to their faces and away from their hands. All Elrond had to do was touch her forehead with his, perhaps a single peck on his friend's cheek, and the climax of the plan would be realized. He would slip the lifesaving object into her grasp and go off to battle, assured that Galadriel would be able to escape like an avenging spirit. He could already imagine the chaos she would leave in her wake, could see her audacious smile. 

But what really happened - what he would never have the courage to utter aloud or even write down on one of his parchments to burn later - was that his heart didn't have half the steadfastness he was trying to replicate. And that behind the breastplate of his armor, locked in the cage of his ribs, was another Galadriel, a small beast with fair hair and bony elbows, forcing open a non-existent gap and knocking the wind out of him. After a long time in a deep, deliberate sleep she now awoke, stretching languidly, and picked up her old quill. With one hand she squeezed his lungs, preventing him from breathing. 

With the other she scribbled, over and over again, the only word she knew: Galadriel Galadriel Galadriel Gal- 

Elrond stretched out his hand, fingers brushing lightly against the face of the real Galadriel still chained to the log; she closed her eyes, sighing, trying to increase the pressure on the meeting point between the two of them. His thumb reached for her mouth, halting just before he did so. 

As soon as he touched her, it would be enough. Galadriel's naked eagerness, which he hadn't expected - the eagerness for skin on skin that secretly mirrored itself in him - had already commanded the attention needed for the second act. They were far too convincing. 

Any contact would be enough. One swipe of his fingertip across her lips would guarantee the exchange of idle chatter amongst the Uruk trenches for weeks to come - if he wasn't planning to exile them at the very first light. 

That alone would be enough. He would bring the action his left hand had begun to a close and slip the brooch into her shackled hands with his right. 

Nothing too daring. 

Or scandalous. 

There would be nothing that could tip the balance of the friendship they had been building for centuries, tipping the weights to a side they could never level again. 

Instead, he moved his thumb away from her mouth, completing the stroke on the side of her face. 

Galadriel opened her eyes, tears gathering and overflowing, confused. 

Inquisitive. 

Pleading. 

The seconds seemed to drag by, but none had really passed. 

The grip on his chest seemed to loosen a fraction, his inner beast of gold and silver hair coiling in unblinking expectation. 

.

Elrond lowered his lips to hers. 

. 

. 

The kiss tasted of iron and salt. It was reminiscent of Círdan's sea and Celebrimbor's forge, but neither sea nor forge could produce the sound that Elrond's blood made when it rushed into his ears, drowning out everything but the being standing in front of him. 

It also tasted like an unknown and terrifying feeling. 

It was both satiety and thirst, as if he'd fought his way to exhaustion, his mouth dry, and he'd turned over a pitcher of fresh water on his lips without the liquid reaching his throat; and he wanted - no - needed more and more and more and... 

It had to be the anticipation of the upcoming battle that was stirring his emotions. The waters of the Glanduin were always more violent wherever there were stones on its course. It was only right that amidst all this turmoil, his thoughts should also be tossed about and confused. 

He was kissing - properly so - Galadriel. 

She had yet to string him up with her own shackles. Rather, her face had mirrored his when he lowered himself to her, her eyes closing before his own in anticipation. 

She was returning the pressure on his kiss, for the first time letting him make all the decisions. One last token of her trust in him. 

Should he leave after that? Draw his sword, take lives and seek a victory when he was already wearing the laurels of the reward? Would he be able to free himself from the magnet trapping his lips? Could he open the saddlebag of his memories and put this one in the deepest place, live as if he had never known his most sacred desire? His immortal spirit barely seemed capable of remaining attached to his physical body at that moment. 

The entire plan was supposed to be just an enactment, and he forgot to put on his character's mask before going on to the stage, bringing his true heart to the play. 

“Valar, give me time to think. Give me time to feel.” he thought.

Five seconds or millennia, he wasn't sure. 

He'd forgotten about the brooch. 

Elrond - sluggishly, with his heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, pounding loudly and uncoordinatedly - tried to take in every detail of the texture on his lips before releasing the moment into the stash of memories, and gradually detached himself from the invisible vines that Galadriel had thrown over him.  

With their foreheads pressed together his eyes remained closed, for he wasn't yet ready, wasn't sure he would be immune to temptation once more abandoning the reason that had brought him here in the first place. 

Praying the uruk's attention was on their faces still, he sought out her hand and brushed his fingers over hers - holding out the hope that they would see the sun rise again, even if on different battlefields. 

Only then did he allow himself to look at her. 

Baffled was the closest adjective to describe Galadriel's expression, a little sceptical perhaps. He would have smiled if the moment hadn't been so pressing, as she began to throw darts with her eyes. "What was that supposed to mean, Elrond? Was that a joke with me? Not very amusing, I suppose..." 

Ah, Galadriel, the time it would take him to understand what his body had decided on its own would make the leaves on the trees fall, grow and fall again. The words required, if they were written down, would use up all the rolls of parchment he had left in his room. 

The sound of the uruks moving around in awkwardness filled the room again as his blood ceased to flood his head and his heart slowed to a walk. 

None of the soldiers, not even Adar, seemed to notice that something odd had happened and Elrond used the power of his relief as momentum to end the performance. 

He took one last glance at Galadriel before letting his fingers drift away from the warmth of her cheek, begging her to understand that this wasn't a genuine farewell. That no, he wasn't engaging in a tasteless prank in such a precious situation. 

If he didn't break free now, he would never leave. 

He filled his lungs with the stale air of the tent, almost hearing the wild Galadriel inside him grumble as she lost a little space. Then he turned the other and called Vorohil. 

He didn't say Namárië , for he would see her soon. 

He would meet her again, alive - with a tired, triumphant smile. 

One more chance. 

Elrond donned the fury he had stripped off when he climbed onto the stage and left the war room. He would have plenty of use for it henceforth. 

Inside the door, he left hope. 

[lillysdreaminnn]

Labyrinth.

Labyrinth; introduction.

Pairing; aaron hotchner x fem!oc

Words; 2.2k

Summary; Ivy got accepted to fill the empty place in the behavioural analysis unit - what she's been after her whole life - and meets her boss and colleagues for the first time.

Warnings; swearing, Derek being Derek, JJ being a little shit here and there (but we love her 🫶🏻), not proofread, i suck at warnings that's all ive got :)

A/n; hi! I decided to post my fic on here too! You can also find it on wattpad under the name Oceanbringerr (my dad picked it out 💀). It's my first fic 🫢 comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated and I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻🫶🏻

"So, do you think I'm hired?" Ivy muttered, fixing her blazer for what seemed to be the fifteenth time. April just shot her a glare, basically scolding her.

 "Okay babe; relax. You've been after this your whole life. You got this, I promise you honey." April tried to reassure her sister once again, watching her mess with her outfit more - messing it up even more.

 "Ivy, I swear to fucking God if you mess with your blazer one more time I will murder you." Violet, the eldest of the family, yelled as she shot up from her spot on Ivy's bed. She stormed over to her sister, forcefully fixing the blazer and top.

 "You're beautiful, honey." She said, a lot calmer this time. "I don't want him to employ me just because I'm beautiful." Ivy scoffed at her two sisters, putting her hair up in a slick ponytail, wanting to seem as serious as she felt about all this.

"So you haven't even met your boss yet?" Violet asked, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth after she sat back down on Ivy's - once - perfectly made bed.

 "No, not yet. I only met section chief Erin Strauss... She seemed... Fine?" Ivy said with a soft laugh, turning back to her sisters who shot her a thumbs up. "Anyway, I have to go. Don't eat all of these, your date will go perfectly fine, plus you have seven more hours to stress about it." The girl snatched the chocolate away from her sister, smiling as Violet whined like a child.

 "Fine. Have fun!" The oldest sister called out after the youngling - in Violet's very words - as she ran out the door.

 Blasting some music in her car, Ivy was quick to arrive at the bureau. She took a moment to herself, staring at the building in complete and utter awe, telling herself that she finally made it. After all those years of pure blood, sweat and tears - maybe even literally - she was finally there.

 Taking a deep breath, she put her name-tag on and walked inside the huge building with a box of her stuff. She was greeted by the usual lovely agents she always passed as she made her way to the elevators, pressing the number eight.

 "Hold the doors!" A voice called out, making Ivy put her hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. Once the sensor got her hand, the doors re-opened, revealing a tall, strong man.

 He's handsome. Ivy thought to herself, smiling politely at him.

 "Thank you." He smiled at her, holding a cup of coffee in his left hand. "You're new here?" He asked Ivy, making her look up at him. "Uh, not exactly. I've just been promoted to the behavioural analysis unit." She said with a smile.

 She thought she was bragging, but she had every right to; she had been chasing after this her entire life.

 The man smiled, making Ivy smile a little wider too. "So you're the new recruit, huh? Nice to meet you, I'm Derek Morgan." He introduced himself, making Ivy almost drop her stuff. Of course she had heard of Derek Morgan. Who hadn't?

 The specialist on obsessional crimes.

 "It's very nice to meet you, Derek." Ivy offered him another friendly smile, since she was holding a pretty heavy box in her arms. "I take it you're meeting Hotch today." He laughed a little at Ivy's worried expression.

 "Yup." She nodded, her polite smile never faltering. "He's not as scary as he seems. He likes to play it tough, but he's very nice." Derek said as the two walked out of the elevators and into the bullpen.

"Good luck and welcome to the team, agent." Derek said with a small smile as he walked to his desk, leaving Ivy lost.

 "Staircase, first door to your right." A girly voice called from next to her, making her head snap towards the blonde woman next to her. Finally a familiar face.

 "Hi JJ." Ivy smiled, wrapping her free arm around the girls waist, as she hugged Ivy back with a similar smile. "Hi honey. Let me take you to Hotch, he's been quite stressed as well." JJ said with a laugh, leading Ivy to their boss's office.

 She knocked on the door and waited for the green light, so they could walk inside. When they did get the green light, JJ opened the door, Ivy standing behind her like a lost child.

 "Hey, Hotch. Look who's here." JJ said, making the man look up from his papers, a subtle scowl on his face. The scowl disappeared when his eyes landed on the terrified girl behind JJ.

 Jesus Christ, man up Ivy. You're a full blown FBI agent, for fuck's sake.

 "You must be agent Monroe." Said Hotch, as he got up from his chair, stretching his hand out to Ivy, who gladly gave him a handshake with a smile.

 "It's very nice to meet you, sir." She said, using both hands to hold her box again. JJ had left the two be, shutting the door behind her as well. Hotch motioned for Ivy to sit, which she did after putting her box next to her feet.

 "Strauss told me all about you and your achievements and I have to admit; I'm surprised. In the best way, of course." Hotch said looking down at some files and then back up at Ivy.

 He's stressed.

 The files on his desk had nothing to do with Ivy and she knew it. He looked down because of the awkwardness in the room, which didn't take a profiler to notice.

 "Thank you, sir. I'm very honoured to be here." She said, a small smile on her face as well. Derek told her Hotch looked - and she quotes - 'scary' but to her he seemed just fine. Maybe a little intimidating, but that's about it.

 After a very in depth talk about the job and some of Ivy's accomplishments, Ivy was cleared to go set up. With a polite handshake, she picked up her box and started heading out, when Hotch's voice stopped her.

 "Oh and please; call me Hotch. We're collegues now."

 Ivy smiled and nodded, mumbling a soft 'bye' as she shut the door behind herself. She made her way down to the bullpen and found the desk Hotch had told her about, placing her box on it and sighing. She took a moment to look around, smiling to herself.

 "Meeting with the boss went well?" Derek's voice rang out of nowhere, making Ivy slightly jump. "You're jumpy for an FBI agent." He joked, making Ivy laugh. "I'm not gonna fight that." She chuckled, staring to set up on her desk.

 "Need any help?" Derek offered and before a woman scoffed with a laugh, "Let the poor girl set up her stuff before you start flirting." A woman with raven black hair said, laughing a little.

 Damn, why's everyone so fine in here?

 "Hey, I wasn't flirting! I was just... offering a helping hand to the newbie." Derek defended himself, making the woman laugh again as she shook her head. "Don't mind him, he's a flirt but a really nice guy. Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss." Emily stretched a hand out to Ivy.

 Ivy gladly shook her hand while politely smiling at her. "Nice to meet you, Emily, I'm Ivy." She said, making Emily smile as well.

 "Very pretty name." Emily chuckled, making Ivy's cheeks turn a dusty pink. "Thank you." Ivy said with a smile, staring to set up her stuff on her desk.

 Derek was sat in his spinny chair while Emily was standing, both watching the younger agent set up her office. "Do you need anything?" Ivy laughed awkwardly, as the two agents basically ogled at her. "Sorry, you just look so much like JJ..." Derek said, sounding as confused as he looked.

 "We're second cousins." Ivy laughed, stopping her movements so she could look at the two with an amused smile. "Oh my God! You're the Ivy she talks about!" Emily realised, pointing a finger at Ivy, who was horribly trying to hold back her laughter.

 "That's me" She said, motioning to herself.

 "I pictured you a redhead." Emily mumbled, mainly to herself, but Ivy heard and chuckled.

 "It's the name."

 "It's the DC villain."

 "Maybe both."

 "Both." Both women nodded, a similar grin on their faces.

 Derek just sat confused, watching the two women talk as if they had known each other for ages. "I'm very confused." He commented, mumbling to himself, "You look confused." Emily pointed out as Derek scoffed jokingly.

 "I do not." He defended himself.

 "Why's Derek confused?" A tall, scrawny boy asked as he walked by, sitting across Ivy's desk. God damnit, he's cute too.

 "Oh fuck you."

 Ivy could only laugh at the sibling-like interaction between Emily, Derek and the boy - who seemed awfully young to be witnessing such horrors the BAU saw daily. "Because; Spencer, this is Ivy. The cousin JJ always talks about." Emily introduced, making Spencer nod with a side smile.

 "JJ talks about you very often. I always pictured you a redhead, though." Spencer said with a chuckle, making Ivy smile. He was indeed very cute.

 "Well, I'm obviously a blonde. But I've been thinking about changing it up a li-"

 "Don't even finish that sentence missy." JJ's voice called out suddenly, making Ivy groan. "Why do you always spawn so randomly? Does the universe put money in the slot or something?" Ivy mumbled, making Derek laugh subtly.

 "Ivy, you remember how it went last time you tried to dye your hair." JJ laughed, sitting on her cousin's desk with a smile eerily identical to Ivy's, who just smiled softly and looked down to her feet.

 "How'd it go?" Emily asked with a curious smile.

 "Miss Monroe here had greenish hair for like a month." Ivy shot her cousin a glare, trying to hold back her own laughter. Eventually she gave in and started laughing as well, shaking her head a little.

 "Yeah okay, it was a disaster. Something went wrong with the dye and I ended up with green hair." Ivy explained, everyone laughing at the mental picture of their new friend with green hair.

 Ivy continued setting up her desk while chatting with the rest of the team, getting to know them better. Ny the end of their shifts, they had done their work and even tried to help Ivy but she wouldn't let them.

 "Go home, Emily." Ivy said with a laugh as Emily sighed in defeat. "Fine. But text me when you get home." The raven haired woman said, patting Ivy's shoulder as a goodbye gesture.

 It was nine when Emily left, leaving Hotch and Ivy alone.

 Two hours later, Hotch exited his office, seeking some caffeine to keep him up for the ridiculous amount of paperwork he had for some reason, when he spotted his new agent. "She's still here?" He mumbled to himself, surprised that Ivy was there.

 He shrugged it off and made his way to the coffee machiene, deciding to leave the girl be for now. That was all out the window when he saw the exhaustion in her face when she lifted her head from her paperwork to sip her own coffee.

 So he decided to be a good boos and check on her.

 "Hey, Monroe. You alright?" He asked, reaching her desk.

 Ivy looked up from her files and smiled at Hotch, nodding her head. "Yeah, I just want to get these out of the way so I have less for tomorrow." She said with a soft smile, making Hotch smile too.

 She's interesting.

 "What are you still doing here?" Ivy asked back, as Hotch sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Chief duties." He said with a faint smile, making Ivy giggle. "It's eleven at night." Ivy pointed out, a soft smile on her face.

 "Your point?"

 "It's too late to work."

 "You're working too."

 "Not for long." Ivy smirked, tapping her pen shut and putting her hair up, "I'm officially done with these, plus if I stay an other minute awake I actually think I'll go crazy." She chuckled, taking the thick stack of files in her arms.

 "I'll take them to my office, don't worry about it; go home." Hotch said, putting the full coffee mug down on Ivy's desk as he reached for the papers. "It's fine, Hotch, honestly." Ivy tried to stop him, but he insisted.

 "You look exhausted, Monroe. Leave those to me and go rest." Ivy gave up and sighed with a smile, "Fine." She passed the files over to Hotch, who easily held them up with one hand while Ivy needed both.

 Damn.

 Ivy sighed and put her coat on, placing her bag over her shoulder. She finished off her coffee and threw away the papercup, while making sure she got everything she needed. Once she gathered the last of her things, she walked to the doors about to leave when a voice called out to her.

 "Goodnight Monroe." Hotch's voice called out, not even looking at her as he opened the door to his office.

 "Goodnight Hotch." Ivy chuckled, shaking her head as she walked to the elevators, calling it a day finally.

[lunarmoves]

after watching hw2 and seeing that one game where you have to train the endos, it got me thinking Thoughts...

like, okay. imagine you were hired in the early early days of the pizzaplex. when sections of it were still in the final stages of being completed and polished up for the grand opening to the public. and your task was to help train the endoskeletons so that they were "people-friendly"—fazco's exact words. a bit strange, but whatever.

a simple enough job, relatively speaking. you weren't the only one assigned to the task, so that helped matters more. your first endoskeleton was to be the theatre bot.

now, you'd dealt with AI models before. but fazco's AI? it was on a whole other level... and not in the way you'd expected.

you nearly die on your first day.

you wanted to quit immediately after—their method of training was unorthodox at best and their endoskeletons were fucking insane. but you were contractually bound. so you had to keep going—fazco could ruin your life if you didn't. and if they were offering you some extra hush money... well, who were you to deny?

that didn't mean you had to like it, though. you were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

the theatre bot was strange in that it was three AIs combined into one endo. that meant you had thrice the amount of work to do. you spent many nights trapped in that odd room that looked like some kind of playroom, trying to teach the model how to label certain items without getting egregiously injured in the process.

but it was rewarding, seeing its progress. you couldn't help the pride you felt once you were finally able to insert its personality chip and train that as well. you'd gotten so used to the silence of the endo that the sudden loud boisterousness with which the bot surprised you with was quite the shock. at least its counterparts were quieter.

they still had quite a bit to learn in terms of their duties and how to interact with humans. you taught them, patiently and meticulously. they were… fun, honestly. eager and willing to be their best and make shows entertaining for the kids.

before you knew it, you were green-lighting the three so they could finally leave the dingy training room and take up residence in the newly finished theatre. your next task was to train the endo that would become monty gator. you thought that was the last you would see of the theatre bot.

you were wrong.

there was something you had not accounted for while you were training them. something that hadn't even crossed your mind, really: their wild attachment to you.

and well… they weren’t exactly willing to let you leave.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

So, the Miraculous Ladybug TV Tropes page recently added this under the Broken Aesop section on the YMMV page:

Adrien/Cat Noir had many instances where he could have discovered the identity of Ladybug/Marinette, but always respected the private life of his beloved, despite knowing that learning it would bring them closer (The only time when he learned it accidentally, Adrien was punished with the apocalypse, no less, and a Retcon.) His attitude was presented as the right thing to do. In the meantime, Alya has been akumatized on the fact she wanted to know Ladybug/Marinette's secrets. Both times, she tried to violently force the issue with her powers and the second time was after she tried pressuring her into revealing them. But, as a reward for her pushy behavior, Alya has been entrusted with Ladybug's identity and the secrets of the Miracle Box. And Adrien's reward for respecting her privacy? He's still (and more and more) left in the dark, and will very likely be the last one to know.

Any thoughts?

I don't fully agree, but it's also not exactly wrong.

I love Alya, but I've never been a fan of the fact that she learned Marinette's secret identity, especially because the episode where it happens - Gang of Secrets - really failed to make the confession feel like a wise move. It's one of the many episodes with a wacky moral.

For those who don't remember, the episode has most of Marinette's female friends worrying about her. They know that she's keeping secrets because, for some reason, Marinette didn't tell anyone about her breakup with Luka:

Rose: They were so cute together! Alya: Yeah, except they broke up. Juleka: He was like super sad when they did. Alya: But the real problem here is that Marinette never told us anything. If Luka hadn't told Juleka, who told Rose, who told Mylène, who then told Alix, who finally told me. Then I, her BF in the whole world would still be in the dark! Yesterday I was in the restroom and I heard her crying.

This is... really weird. Why didn't Marinette tell them? The episode never explains and I can't figure out her logic because they'd obviously learn the truth. There's no way that Juleka wouldn't know!

My best guess is that the writers wanted a conflict over secrets, but they didn't want to have Marinette's girl friends pick up on her Ladybug-based lies as that would invite a level of complexity that they really can't resolve. But that's a meta reason. As far as the actual text goes, there's nothing to explain this baffling choice.

What's even more weird is that making it about the Ladybug secrets would have worked if Alya was the only one worried because the episode ends with Alya learning the truth. Having the episode only be about Marinette and Alya would make a lot of sense. Instead, it's about the whole, rarely-seen girl group so we're stuck with the Luka conflict. Yay.

Either way, I'm not wild about the actions Alya and Co take. Their first choice is to call Marinette. When she doesn't pick up, they leave a very sweet message. If things ended there, then we'd be fine, but right after that, we get this:

Alya: Maybe we should go to her house. What do you think? Mylène: We'll give her an eternal friendship bracelet so she never forgets that friends can tell each other anything and that we'll always be there for her.

This isn't a terrible idea. Checking on a friend when you're worried about them is a reasonable thing. The problem is the way that check up goes down. The girls basically invade Marinette's room and start messing with her stuff like this is some fun little hangout session, almost discovering the miracle box in the process:

Marinette: What are you doing here? Alya: We're just checkin' in on you, girl. Rose: Aw, it looks just like a real house, look how the roof comes off to show the inside! Marinette:(frantically) No! No, don't touch that! Move away! (As Rose opens the roof, Marinette gets down, pushing past through her friends and Rose as she hides what is inside of the dollhouse, while Rose accidentally drops the roof, which cracks. The girls gasp in shock.) Rose:(kneels to pick up the cracks) Sorry, Marinette! Marinette:(angrily) Will you please leave my room?! Alya: Chill out Marinette, it's just a doll house. We'll totally help. Marinette: No you won't, please go! Alya: Okay Marinette, there's clearly something wrong and we're not leaving you like this till you tell us what it is.

The scene goes on like this until Marinette lashes out and tells them to get out even if it means ending her friendship with them, which is a response that I find totally justified. Marinette is quite obviously very distressed by her friends' presence and they are refusing to listen to her pleas to leave. They're also giving that refusal in a highly confrontational manner, which is the completely wrong tone for conveying concern. They do not come across as caring. They come across as demanding.

Marinette has every right to be upset by that. It's okay to not want people to invade your room, touch your stuff, and demand to know you're secrets. It's also okay to get upset when people keep ignoring your clearly stated and perfectly reasonable boundaries.

While I fully support wellness checks, this is not how you do them. It's like a variation on the scenes where people confront Gabriel in Adrien's name. They're all impressively terrible examples of how you handle a very complex situation. Worst possible way you could go about it. Children, do not try this at home!

Of course, Marinette's justified reaction leads to the girls getting akumatized, leading to a fight, leading to Ladybug saving the day, leading to everyone being friends again even though the girls never apologize for how they went about their wellness check. Rose's quick sorry for breaking Marinette's doll house is the only one we get in the entire episode. Then we get this:

Alya: You go ahead girls, I just have one last thing to say to Marinette. (closes the door to Marinette's room) You didn't tell us everything, did you? A journalist and a BFF can tell these things. I won't try to figure it out or force it out of you. (sits beside Marinette) If you can't tell me what's in your heart, it's your right. Marinette: Will we still be friends? Alya: Marinette. I'm your best friend, and I'll always be. That's why it kills me that I can't help you with whatever's making you feel so alone. (Alya sighs, and is about to leave Marinette's room when Marinette grabs her hand.) Marinette: Alya, wait! Stay. You're right, I am alone. (grows increasingly emotional) More than ever before. I can barely take it anymore! You know why I broke up with Luka? Not because I don't like him, he's amazing! It's 'cause there's something that I can't tell him. You know why I have to forget Adrien? For the exact same reason! You're right, I keep secrets, I lie all the time! I lie to my friends, to my parents, to everyone and the worst thing is, I can't do it any other way! Alya: There's always another way. Marinette: No, not this time. I have no choice. All this is bigger than us, Alya. Way too big. Alya: If it's too big, two of us can handle it better than one. Marinette: If I tell you, things will never be the same between us again. (shakes her head) It'll mess up everything, maybe even destroy it. Alya:(voice breaking) Marinette, I'm your very best friend. Marinette: And I… I'm Ladybug.

Maybe this is just me, but this doesn't feel like Alya respecting Marinette's boundaries. It's certainly not as bad as the earlier scene. In fact, I like a lot of this in a vacuum, but because of that earlier scene, this one feels uncomfortable. Once again, Alya is so sure that she knows what she's talking about even though she really doesn't.

In the first scene, Marinette was right that they all needed to get out so that she could protect the Kwamis and in this scene she was right that the Ladybug reveal wasn't the kind of thing where sharing was the clear right choice. This would all play so much better if Alya said her first few lines and then actually left, only to be called back by Marinette several hours later. Then we'd really feel like Marinette was making an informed choice instead of revealing her identity in a panic.

Another option would be to have Alya offer comfort without needing to know what is upsetting Marinette, maintaining the secret identities while also giving Marinette some much needed support. Saying she'll support Marinette no matter what and then getting up to leave just doesn't feel super supportive to me. It feels like Alya is (unintentionally) making Marinette panic by saying one thing while technically doing another.

Remember, Marinette just had a really stressful day where she almost lost all of her friends, making this an incredibly charged moment that ends with Alya leaving while clearly disappointed. Of course Marinette would try to salvage that! Her brain isn't focusing on Alya's genuine words. It just sees Alya leaving and panics. It doesn't help that this opening line would put a lot of people on edge:

You didn't tell us everything, did you? A journalist and a BFF can tell these things.

"I know you're still keeping secrets, but I respect that" is not the best way to start a conversation with someone who is clearly struggling.

Because of these issues, I don't feel like Marinette truly decided to make this serious choice. I feel like she blurted it out in the middle of a panic attack, so this scene never gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. This is especially true because we never get to truly see the fallout of Alya processing the reveal and comforting Marinette. The scene just ends and the next episode has them back to their usual dynamic, just with the bonus element of Alya knowing the whole Ladybug thing.

To be fair to Alya, a lot of this comes back to our oft-discussed issue of Miraculous trying to speed run major story lines in 20 minutes because it's a formula show so it can't let things play out properly. That doesn't change the fact that this feels rushed and unsatisfying. It's not the natural conclusion to an episode where Alya learns to respect Marinette's boundaries, but I don't think that's actually the lesson here. The lesson seems to be that Marinette should share her secrets with her friends to lessen her mental burden.

Once again, that's a lovely lesson in a vacuum, but a really weird one for the show that gave us Chat Blanc and Miracle Queen in the previous season and that will include Sentibubbler, Ephemeral, and Nino accidentally outing Alya to Gabriel in the exact same season. Season five will even see Luka leave the country because he knows the secret identities!

Writers, when it comes to secret identities, you really need to pick a lane. Are they good or bad? Is sharing them a No Good Very Bad Thing, an act of trust, or no big deal? The inconsistency around this topic is a major issue for the show as the Alya reveal really undermines everything going on with Ladynoir. While there's solid logic for Ladynoir not sharing, similar logic applies to Alya at this point because Gabriel literally knows her secret identity! Through no fault of her own, Alya is not a safe person and that makes it really hard to watch Alya get the reveal while Adrien stays in the dark. I can justify him not knowing. I can't justify Alya knowing.

I'll wrap this up by saying that I don't agree that Adrien has respected Ladybug's boundaries to the point where it feels like he should have been rewarded (narratively speaking, of course. This is a story after all). He may not be all that pushy about an identity reveal, but he's pretty freaking pushy about Ladynoir becoming a thing, so Ladybug not being ready to trust him does feel earned. Plus, as I said above, it's not like there's no logic behind them keeping their identities a secret. We know that they're dating on the civilian side, but as far as they know, they're total strangers.

If you look at it from that perspective and ask, "what are the benefits of a reveal," you'll find that they're not overwhelming, especially when compared to the risks that come with a mind-controlling super villain on the loose. I totally get why Marinette isn't telling him a thing, I'm just not really sure why she needed to tell Alya. The more logical route here is for Marinette to keep her secrets and look for support on the Ladybug side of things. Ideally that support should be Chat Noir or Su-Han, but it could be Alya, too. I still think that's a bad call since Alya's identity is in the villain's hands, but it would still make more sense than Marinette telling Alya all of her secrets. Another route would be for Alya to learn by accident. She walks in at the wrong time and, ooops, no taking that back. That's the only way I'd personally write Alya learning at this point in the story.

Sorry if this one was a bit of a ramble, the writing around the topic of secret identities is one of the elements I truly don't understand. I have no idea what the writers are doing here. It's not even a "you didn't think this through" thing like the sentimonster stuff. It's a "you spent all of last season telling us that identity reveals are bad and you're about to spend all of this season also telling us that, so why do we randomly get an identity reveal that's magically okay? Rena Furtive doesn't even do anything useful for the plot, why make her a thing?? Are you even trying to tell a coherent story???"